After the meeting with her family, Elizabeth had gone to her room. From her bag of keepsakes, she removed the blanket and toy cat. As she settled on the bed, she covered herself up with the blanket. It only covered from her shoulders to her waist. She curled onto her side, snugging a blanket covered hand under her cheek. She tucked the cat in the crook of her arm.
This was a familiar posture. She slept this way countless times when she was younger. Now it brought her comfort. A comfort that finally having the answers she always sought did not bring. Her father told her once that some people thought she was abandoned by her family. When they received no answers to their notices and nobody used the direction left behind, it was as easy to believe as it was difficult to accept. Intellectually, she knew there were any number of reasons a child might discarded.
But never once had thought she was left behind because she was not loved. The items found with her were all imbued with warmth and affection. Now that she knew the truth it was almost unbearable to think about. The parallel lines that were the lives of Hursts and the Bennets taunted her. The key difference, a child - lost to one family, found by the other. Unspeakable grief for one, joy and contentment for the other.
It pained her to think she was the cause of the agony the Hursts endured. She feared she would only cause them more harm. Part of her wanted to go back to yesterday when she did not know. She could not imagine supplanting the Bennets for this new…old family. She did not now how to go about receiving them. They would see her reticence. She was grateful to Mr. Darcy for convincing Mr. Hurst that she be allowed to plot the course of their introduction and subsequent engagement. She would not be able to delay too long, though.
The first thing to do was accept the fact that Mr. Hurst was her brother. She could acknowledge that, at least, by calling him David. Perhaps, once that first step was taken, it would become easier still to think of him as family.
She did not remember much of her integration into the Bennet family. She remembered curling up on the bed much as she was now. She remembered the ache of missing the parents and home she knew, but she remembered the actual people and place less. The Bennets had accepted her, and she became one of them. And she, in turn, loved them with her whole heart. They became her home.
Once they returned to Longbourn, Mr. Bennet had taken her into his study every day. He listened to all her ramblings, asked gently probing questions, hoping to discern a clue as to her identity. He concluded each session with a story. Mr. Bennet loved books. He wanted his girls to love books too. He wanted to them to love learning and knowledge. To that end, when they were infants, before they could understand, he read to them from whatever he was studying at that time. As the girls got older, he had shifted to modified selections from the Bible, Shakespeare, Swift, Dafoe, the great epic poems, even the classics. They were all given free rein of his library, of which Elizabeth had taken full advantage.
Mrs. Bennet was already a doting mother to Jane, and she was expecting the child that would be Mary. She was touched by little Elizabeth and held her as she cried for her mother, her own heart crying with her. Mrs. Bennet was determined the child would always know she was wanted as a beloved daughter and sister to those named Bennet. She never made Elizabeth feel less for not being blood relation.
Her younger sisters only remembered a Longbourn with Elizabeth. She was simply their elder sister who was, by turns, protective, loving, scolding, and humorous. They bickered and laughed and teased. For them there was no distinction between her and the other sisters.
One of Elizabeth's earliest memories was of Jane, laughing and beautiful. Jane was outside in the snow, playing with other children. She was wearing a dark green coat and a white hood. Her cheeks were pink with cold and amusement, her bright blue eyes, clear and friendly. Elizabeth was drawn to her. In her young mind she thought Jane was an angel. And that angel became her salvation. If Elizabeth had not wanted to get closer to the angelic vision, the Bennets would never have found her.
But this was getting her nowhere. She could not order her thoughts. She had dreamed of finding her family but never thought beyond that initial euphoria. Now she had so many questions. Was she now to be known as Elizabeth Hurst? What should she call the Hursts? And the Bennets? Where will she live? How far away was Longbourn from Raber Hill? When did she have to leave? Could she still see the Gardiners? How would she tolerate the superior sisters? Would her grandparents spoil her? Did she have to be nice to Caroline Bingley? Would she have to have a season? Would she see Mr. Darcy more?
Her questions mingled with her tears until she eventually fell asleep. She woke to an early morning rain striking the window. She was very warm and unable to move.
Opening her eyes, she saw Mary asleep on her side, very close, facing her. Craning her neck to look behind her, she saw it was Kitty was snuggled up against her back. Beyond Kitty she saw Jane's blonde head. Turning forward again, she looked to see Lydia clinging to Mary in her sleep, right on the edge of the bed. Someone had spread a quilt over them.
She and Jane had often shared a bed as they shared confidences late into the night. Her bed was comfortably large for two people. Yet, with five sisters, somehow the comfort was greater. Whether her sisters were seeking solace for themselves or to provide it for her, she cared not. It was perfect. Just as she began to drift back to sleep, she was fully awakened by a soft cry. Mary shifting in her sleep had upset Lydia's precariously balance. "Mary, scoot in or I shall fall."
"She cannot scoot in, that will make Lizzy scoot back and that will push me back and then Jane will fall off." Kitty tucked safely between her older sisters, tried to keep Jane from toppling off the bed.
Lydia clung tighter to Mary. "Well, just know, if I go off, you go off, Mary."
Her weigh was distributed in such a way there was nowhere to go but down. They all watched as Lydia wobbled at the edge and fell. She landed on her backside with Mary on top of her in a tangle of limbs. Lydia erupted in laughter.
"Quick, Lizzy, spread out. Do not let them back in." Jane giggled once she knew her sisters were not hurt.
Elizabeth crawled to peer over the side of the bed. "I am afraid they took the quilt with them. We must decide, shall we be crowded and cozy or cold and comfortable."
"Crowded and cozy." They said in unison. Their efforts caused more mirth as they could not seem to achieve the positioning they had before. There appeared no way to get Lydia on the bed so Jane would not fall off.
"How did we do this last night? And in the dark?" Mary was perplexed, considering the best placements for them all.
"And so quietly. I had no idea you all had joined me until I woke this morning."
"When you did not come down for dinner, Papa said you needed time alone. But I wanted to check on you." Kitty admitted. "I saw you sleeping with your Zibby things, and I just could not leave you. I needed to be sure you were well. I am sorry, Lizzy. I did not mean to intrude upon you."
"I think we all had the same idea, Kitty. I hope you do not mind, Lizzy. We just wanted to be able to show how much we care about you. Do you want to be alone now?" Jane did not want to leave her sister, but she was willing to if that is what Elizabeth wanted.
"I thought I needed time alone, but I really do not desire it. I also thought I needed a long walk and a cup of chocolate too, and that I do desire. But only if I have you all with me."
"A walk?" Lydia groaned but then looked at the window. "Well, at least it is raining so we do not have to walk this early. But I will agree to chocolate in bed. I do not want this morning to end."