A/N: And we're back to the Bennets! I want to thank you guys for your patience regarding last chapter's focus on the Ephrussis. I hadn't entirely meant for that chapter focusing on the Ephrussis to be chapter three, it was originally planned much further down the line. However, a very trustworthy beta reader told me it was needed to ground you all for the Ephrussis place later in the story. Fear not, the Bennets are still the main focus of this tale, and they always will be. This chapter picks up a couple of years following the first meeting of the Ephrussis and the death of Henry.

This also might be a good time to address the education of the Bennet girls. There have been concerns raised about the girls being 'too smart' for their ages. All I can say is this: they are not geniuses or savants, nor even especially good with their particular fields of 'unladylike' study at those young ages. These fields of study just happen to be things that interest them. I come from a large family that all had children around the same five year span, and of the almost two dozen cousins I grew up around, and the age groups I've taught in my years as a teacher, I know that sometimes children just become interested in unexpected things. My sister spent most of her seven/eight-year-old life reading about geology, but it wasn't like she had a doctorate. She didn't really understand what she was reading, it was just fun for her, haha. That's all that a lot of the Bennet's early interests are until around ten/eleven years old; it's just fun for them. These interests will stick with them, much like how her childhood interest stuck with my now Geologist older sister, but while the Bennets are still young, they just think what they're reading is 'neat' and 'grown up', despite not really understanding it. At ten/eleven, though, which is around fourth, fifth, or even sixth grade for some kids I've taught, I know that children are capable of more intellectually than one might expect, even if those children are not considered to be 'geniuses' or 'savants'. And sometimes, aptitudes can show themselves from a young age as well.

Chapter 4: Quattuor

08 October, 1802
Netherfield

The sounds of Mary's pianoforte lesson with Signore Mancini were still gently floating through Netherfield's wide, white hallways. Lydia and Kitty were sitting on the other side of the parlor from Lizzy, working on their reading and writing lessons under the fond, watchful eye of Mrs. Byrne. The midwife, who had delivered all of Lizzy and her sisters (except for Jane), had acted as their governess for years now. Or, at least, had been as much of a governess as one could when Mama despised the woman and refused to acknowledge her efforts to teach and care for them.

Smiling to herself as she watched Lydia clap for Kitty when she successfully read through a difficult word, Lizzy turned back to her embroidery. After months of struggling with the basic stitch, she seemed to finally be getting the hang of it. Still, she missed Jane's guidance with the finicky task, as Jane was working with Master Contino in the ballroom, attempting to learn the very first of the repertoire Dowager Pembroke had decreed that 'every genteel lady needed to know' while Mary's efforts to master her first piece by Haydn kept their middle sister occupied.

Great Aunt Phoebe breezed into the room, her cool green eyes softening as she looked over at Kitty and Lydia. Upon seeing the tall, silver-haired dowager, little Lydia jumped up from her seat next to Mrs. Byrne.

"Aunt Bee-bee!" Lydia called, running as fast as her six-year-old legs could carry her. Lydia had had trouble pronouncing Great Aunt Phoebe's name when she was younger, so the modified version of 'Bee-bee' had been accepted amongst their group and was still occasionally used, especially when Lyddie was excited.

Great Aunt Phoebe's face warmed with a big smile, and she bent down to gracefully swing Lydia up into her arms. "Hello, little bird. Have you been behaving for Mrs. Byrne?"

Lydia immediately began chattering to the older woman in her usual excited way, telling Great Aunt Phoebe all about how she'd performed in the day's lessons with her letters, how Kitty had read a word with five whole syllables, and Jane and Mary had been gone the whole day; busy with the music, painting, and now dancing masters.

With that same warm smile on her face, Great Aunt Phoebe sat down next to Lizzy as she listened, beckoning Kitty and Mrs. Byrne over from their lesson, and the other two joined them while Lizzy eagerly put her embroidery aside.

When the Bennet household had fallen to fever two years before, Kitty and Little Henry had been hit the worst, but Lizzy had contracted it too after trying to nurse her sister. The hallucinations and exhaustion that had swamped Lizzy had kept her confined to the nursery with Henry. She did not remember the day that Henry died, much less any of the things that Mama had said to her least favorite child. Jane was very grateful for this, as she knew she would never be able to properly explain why Mama would ever accuse Lizzy of 'killing' their brother.

It was, unfortunately, the first time of many that Jane Bennet would be forced to realize that not everyone was innocent of ill intent.

To this day, all Lizzy knew was that she had awoken from some terrible dream where her family was screaming and crying over some unknown cause to find that young Henry was gone. Papa and Mama, who had little to do with their children even before Henry's death, fell into mutual but separate isolation and spent even less time with their family, or with each other. Mama had also been intolerant of Kitty's new, delicate health, as well as the cough that had stuck with her, though it only flared up occasionally now.

Because of this, the Bennet girls had found it prudent to spend more and more time outside of Longbourn. Lizzy had noticed her mother's colder attitude towards her, the sometimes waspish words, and while it hurt and confused her, she comforted herself with the idea that her mother was still suffering from Henry's death.

As Lizzy and her sisters spent most of their days at Netherfield, Great Aunt Phoebe spent a great deal of time with them all, making time for individual conversation with each child that played and learned in her halls. A good portion of her day though, Lizzy knew, was spent attending to the running of Netherfield Park and the surrounding farmland. When she returned from her duties as the Mistress and unspoken Master of the estate, she sat down with all of the Bennet sisters and Mrs. Byrne for tea, to hear what they had learned in their lessons, or how they had spent their morning if the masters were not engaged.

Lizzy had once overheard Mama say something very bitter to Charlotte's mother about the masters Lizzy and her sisters learned from, but the sharp and reproachful way Lady Lucas had replied seemed strange to her at the time. It was only much later when she remembered to ask Great Aunt Phoebe about it that she learned it was not her parents who paid for Mrs. Byrne or the other master's time and boarding at all. It was Great Aunt Phoebe.

Eleven-year-old Elizabeth, who was often said to be impertinent, had asked Lady Pembroke 'Why?' with all of the assurance that she was correct to question her. Thankfully, Great Aunt Phoebe was not offended at all and instead said kindly but firmly that she had nothing better to do with her money than to spend it on the education of genteel young ladies.

Then, she'd hugged Lizzy close and whispered, "And besides, I find that I look upon you and your sisters with the same fondness I see my son Noah."

All of this made sense to Lizzy, so she had not questioned further. Of late though, Lizzy had found herself watching the way Great Aunt Phoebe treated Noah, and silently cataloging the differences in how Mama treated her and her sisters.

Noah Archer was the only other family occupant at Netherfield, because the only other living Archer, the current Earl, was a cruel and despicable man whom Phoebe Archer would rather see dead than residing near Noah or the children of her heart, the Bennets. Of course, very few in Meryton or elsewhere knew about this side of Vincent Archer, and certainly not young Lizzy. In fact, Phoebe had only told Mrs. Byrne as a manner of precaution when Vincent had begun making threats about obtaining Netherfield a few years before.

Phoebe's cousin Maggie and her husband, thankfully, had been such great help to quickly engage her with staff they assured her would be able to both do their jobs admirably as well as protect her and the children from Vincent if need be. There were many things Phoebe could have asked about such assurances, but Phoebe had quelled her curiosity and refused to look any further into it. There were some things, she had learned, one did not question. The world of politics was a dark one, and Phoebe wanted nothing to do with it.

Thus far none, not even inquisitive Lizzy or observant Mary had asked why the older brother was never mentioned by Great Aunt Phoebe or by Noah, or why the Earl had never visited his only living relatives, his own mother and brother. The children of Meryton had little interest in the current Earl, because Noah had been born less than a week before Jane, and was much more equal to their age. The older inhabitants of Meryton had long ago assumed the elder Archer brother was simply busy with the duties of running an Earldom and contented themselves with complaining that he had married the daughter of a wealthy London tradesman and not one of their daughters as had been the hope since the dowager Lady Pembroke took up residence in Netherfield. In doing so, they completely forgot about asking the dowager when her eldest son and his new wife would visit. For this grace of never being questioned on her elder son, save by Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Long as the two women were the very worst of gossiping matrons, Phoebe was eternally grateful.

Since the Bennet sisters were over at Netherfield so often, they had never thought to talk about someone Noah never mentioned, and in turn, saw Noah more like a brother than a neighbor. The Bennet, Archer, Ephrussi, and even the Lucas children were so close that not even Mrs. Byrne corrected them when they called one another by their Christian names instead of the proper 'Mr.' and 'Miss' designations. Or rather, at least, Mrs. Byrne didn't correct them when they used such intimacies in private, only in public.

Lizzy was momentarily distracted from the conversation as she looked over at a small painting hanging on the wall, a somewhat clumsy but altogether endearing (for she knew the artist) portrait of a hunting dog. She knew that the painting's artist, Nikolai, had initially only painted it as a hurried replacement for a larger portrait he'd accidentally destroyed when he, Noah, and John Lucas had been roughhousing in that very parlor during Noah's birthday last April just before the Ephrussis had to leave to go back to Russia, but it had been hung in pride of place regardless. Frequently, Bennets and Archers would look over to the portrait, as Lizzy was currently doing, and count the days until they saw their beloved friends again.

Now thoroughly not paying any amount of attention to the conversation, Lizzy's thoughts wandered to Noah, who dearly missed Nikolai when the older boy was not in Meryton. Noah was good friends with John Lucas, the eldest Lucas and older than his twin Charlotte by only an hour, but Lizzy knew he looked up to Nikolai who was older than both other boys.

Whenever Noah wasn't busy with his own education or playing with the Lucas boys at Lucas Lodge, he was with the Bennets. Out of all five of her sisters, Lizzy had noticed that he seemed drawn to Mary the most, which worked out grand in Lizzy's eyes. The Lucases were often along with them on their youthful romps across the countryside, or otherwise spent in their company, but like the Ephrussis they were not always around. When it was just the Bennets, she and Jane often paired off as the two eldest, and Kitty and Lydia often paired off as the two youngest. Mary was never excluded from either of those sisterly conferences, but Mary had once confided in Lizzy that she longed for a particular friend as well sometimes.

Why not Noah Archer, Lizzy thought. He was kind and polite, and he was good at both listening and talking. Mary was quiet and intelligent in a way that neither Lizzy nor even her dearest sister Jane was. Lizzy thought that Mary, who always seemed to have an answer to any question asked, and Noah, who loved nothing more than asking questions, fit very well together.

Despite her Mama's less than subtle attempts to have Jane 'catch' Noah, or even the beautiful and rich Prince Nikolai, Lizzy thought it was only right for Jane to have kept her head and ignored her shrill and conflicting instructions. Marriage was not something that any of her sisters would have to worry about, Lizzy was entirely confident, at least not yet. She had recently decided, even at her young age of eleven, that she was determined only to marry for the deepest love, and therefore was prepared to die an old maid.

Love her Mama though she did, Lizzy certainly had no plans to ever 'capture' a man the way Mama kept trying to teach them all to do. Great Aunt Phoebe had said they were all certainly too young for it, and besides. Maybe Noah or Nikolai wouldn't want to marry any of them anyway.

Noah's potential interest or disinterest in marriage was not immediately apparent to Lizzy, who did not see the odd, confused, and questioning glances he sometimes sent Mary when the younger girl's back was turned to him. Noah Archer had discovered that quiet dignity, observant insight, and soft-spoken kindness in Mary that Mrs. Byrne had recognized so long ago. Being so young and often considered 'annoying' due to his high spirits and never-ending questions, Noah was fascinated with Mary's patience and eagerness to indulge his questions; a fascination that had not escaped the notice of his mother. As Noah was still young, Phoebe knew he certainly was not thinking much beyond his fascination, but that was alright. Mary was still young, as well. There was time.

Lizzy, of course, knew nothing of any of that. She only knew that when Noah was freed from lessons, he spent most of his time with them playing in the fields of his mother's estate, or talking excitedly about what he and Lizzy had learned from his mother and the Netherfield steward, Mr. Morris, about how an estate was properly run.

Running an estate was entirely too interesting to Lizzy's ever-curious mind. She didn't care what Mama said about Great Aunt Phoebe and Mr. Morris taking her alongside Noah on their lessons when Lizzy's other lessons could be forgone. Lizzy had fallen into the subject with ravenous hunger, even after Jane's basic lessons in estate management had been completed and her focus had turned towards learning to run a household. Lizzy was grateful and altogether eager for the chance to exercise her intelligence in this manner, to gain this almost forbidden kind of knowledge. More to the fact, as she had gotten older, she'd discovered that not only did she enjoy the subject, she was good at it.

Unfortunately, the more Lizzy understood about estate management, the more she looked at her beloved Papa with new, more critical eyes. Papa was the most brilliant man she'd ever known, the most brilliant one she would ever know, she was certain. But the tenant farms on Longbourn land weren't nearly as well cared for as the ones at Netherfield. The sheep herds were more sickly, the croplands were near farmed out and rocky, and many fields lay dormant and wild and had been so ever since she could remember.

Things had gotten even worse since Henry had died. Papa ventured out of his study less and less every year, and he only ventured beyond Longbourn to complete estate tasks once a week.

None of that aligned with the lessons she'd so painstakingly learned from Great Aunt Phoebe, but whenever she tried to ask Papa about it, he only laughed and then turned the conversation away from what she had asked him.

Eventually, the soft beginnings of a plan had started to form in the back of Lizzy's mind. What would she do, to bring Longbourn up to the standard of Netherfield? Originally, it had begun as an intellectual exercise. Completely theoretical, of course. It wasn't as if eleven-year-old Elizabeth Bennet could begin singlehandedly running an estate. She hadn't told anyone, not even Jane, about these daydreams. Not even as they had changed and evolved, become a firm and solid plan held tight in the private safety of her mind.

She had even gone as far as looking into the financial books for Longbourn, late at night when everyone else was asleep and wouldn't notice or question Lizzy's presence in Papa's study. Papa didn't keep them locked, so Lizzy comforted herself with the opinion that she wasn't necessarily spying. And Mrs. Byrne always said that she had a good head for numbers, so she knew that with what she'd learned from Great Aunt Phoebe and her steward Mr. Morris, the formerly fragile plan in the back of her mind would at least work.

The problem came when, as such intense and important ideas often do, the plan could no longer remain just in Lizzy's mind. She had never been one to stand idly by when she was certain there was something, anything, that could be done. She could help Papa with the estate. She had made suggestions to Great Aunt Phoebe before, and she always looked pleasantly surprised when Lizzy made them. Regardless of the suggestion made, Great Aunt Phoebe always explained why Lizzy's suggestion might or might not work for the problem at hand, and had even implemented a few of the suggestions she'd made. Surely her Papa would do no less.

And yet there was a part of her that, though she would never dare admit it, was worried. Mama had made no secret of the fact that she detested Great Aunt Phoebe's, and therefore Lizzy's, interest in 'unladylike' pursuits, and while Papa had encouraged her interests in Cicero and Plato, he had never admonished her interest in estate management and agriculture, but he had also never explicitly encouraged them either.

Resigned to her need to do something about the declining state of Longbourn, Lizzy was hoping to pull Great Aunt Phoebe aside to ask for her advice on whether or not she should even attempt to help Papa, but for now, she was happy to sit beside her and, upon a friendly tease from Lydia about Lizzy's habit of doing more scowling at her sampler than actual embroidery, rejoin the conversation.

"Lyddie, that's not fair!" she scowled playfully. "I did not attempt to throw my embroidery into the fire even once today, I would say that's an improvement."

Great Aunt Phoebe chuckled warmly while Lydia and Kitty giggled. "I'm pleased that you all seem to be progressing so well in your studies."

Kitty and Lydia both perked up with pride, and Lizzy couldn't help but smile at them. Her sisters sometimes annoyed her greatly, but they were sweet girls, and she dearly hoped that their Mama's ambition for them to become just like her would go unrealized. In her eyes, Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia were perfect just as they were, as themselves.

The clock in the corner of the room chimed and Mrs. Byrne stood. "That's tea, little misses, and then a rest for you. Come along."

Lydia, still somewhat unnerved by the grand halls and echoing floors of Netherfield due to her age and being less familiar with them still, held tight onto Mrs. Byrne's hand while the two of them and Kitty strode ahead of Lizzy and Great Aunt Phoebe towards where tea would be served.

This was the routine they were in, and it was one Lizzy was greatly fond of. After breaking fast at Longbourn, Mrs. Byrne would gather all five sisters and set off for Netherfield the moment Mama left to go to town. They would have lessons until tea, where they would be joined by Great Aunt Phoebe and Noah, and the Ephrussis if they were in town, and then Jane, Noah, and Lizzy would continue on with a few more lessons while the others played. They were always back home in time for supper, where they would amuse themselves until they went to bed, whereupon rising they would do it all again the next day.

The sounds of Mary's distant playing halted, and Lizzy knew that Signori Mancini had released her for the day and that she and Jane would not be long to the table. If she was to bring her problem before Great Aunt Phoebe, she did not have much time alone with the lady, so it was now or never.

As she turned towards the dowager, Great Aunt Phoebe instead came to a halt in the hallway. Looking down at Lizzy, eyes twinkling, she said, "You've been quiet today, Elizabeth. You have that wrinkle between your brows that you only get when you're worrying at something, and I don't think it's the embroidery."

Despite the fact that Lizzy should have been used to such examples of Great Aunt Phoebe's keen, observational eye, the comment still surprised her, and it took her a moment to allow the surprise to pass.

"No, Aunt Phoebe," she sighed, frowning. "It's not my embroidery."

Great Aunt Phoebe made a small noise, one that meant she was listening and ready to hear what someone had to say, but Lizzy knew her well enough to not feel rushed into speaking her tangled thoughts before they could be arranged properly.

Haltingly, she tried to explain, "There are many things you've taught me, and I'm very grateful for each and every one of them. Even, or perhaps especially the things that might not be considered...proper studies and lessons for young ladies."

The stately woman nodded but remained silent.

Gathering her courage, Lizzy said, "Those lessons of estate management have been much on my mind as of late. I've been studying the way that Netherfield and Longbourn are run, and I have noticed areas of...potential improvement in Longbourn. I know that it is not a ladylike choice of study or interest, but I-" Forcing herself to look up and meet Great Aunt Phoebe's gaze, she finished, "I want to help my father run Longbourn."

For a moment, she did not speak or move. The dowager stood still, her sharp green eyes assessing the little girl before her. Though Phoebe herself longed for the day her beloved 'adopted' daughters were grown, simply for the sake of seeing them happy and well as adults and not just happy children, in that moment she had her first true glimpse of the woman Elizabeth Bennet would become, and struggled to hold back the sudden wave of motherly emotion.

Then, finally, she said, "Elizabeth, I need you to listen very closely, my dear. A woman may choose for herself what interests and studies she dedicates her time to. Ladylike studies are important, and I will not say they are not, but they are important because they protect you."

Confused, Lizzy could only listen as Great Aunt Phoebe continued, "Becoming an accomplished lady is about protecting yourself from a bad marriage, from poor social acceptance, from compromise attempts, even from destitution. A lady must take up dancing, art, and languages to protect herself in society. The studies she chooses for her heart and for the well-being of her mind and soul, those need not be considered ladylike."

The words seemed to linger in Lizzy's head, before sinking in deep to touch her mind and her heart, some internal tension releasing inside of her forever. Lizzy knew she would remember these words for a long time.

She considered her own words very carefully before responding. "So…" she began slowly, "you do not think it unwise for me to offer my help to Papa?"

"Not at all," Great Aunt Phoebe said firmly, in that way that brooked no argument. "I think your father would be the fool should he not accept your help, clever girl," Reaching out to Lizzy, she clasped one of the younger girl's delicate hands in her own before resuming the walk towards where the tea was being served. "And if you ever have any questions, myself and Mr. Morris would be happy to assist you."

A slight blush bloomed on Lizzy's face. She was not used to praise, however indirect it might be. The two of them walked in silence the rest of the way towards the parlor where bright conversation was muffled behind the door.

Before they went inside, Lizzy stopped to face Great Aunt Phoebe again. "Thank you."

Her answering smile was bright and warm. "Anything for you, darling."

09 October, 1802
Longbourn

Despite Great Aunt Phoebe's approval and encouragement, Lizzy did not talk to Papa when the girls went home that evening. Kitty, still proudly flitting around after Mrs. Bryne had praised her perfectly completed (at long last) written Latin alphabet, had taken the carefully written letters into Papa's study to show them off to their father.

Mr. Bennet tolerated few, honestly only Elizabeth, entering his study in the first place. He tolerated no one, not even Elizabeth, interrupting his reading. When Kitty had bounced into the study, cheerfully asking for her father's attention, Mr. Bennet's response to being dragged so unceremoniously from Plato's The Republic was instant and sharp.

Lizzy had not been privy to the scolding that Kitty received, but her second youngest sister had left the study in tears, and nigh inconsolable. Lizzy and Mary had spent the rest of the evening comforting her, while Jane and Lydia distracted Mama.

The next morning brought new determination for Lizzy. If the estate did poorly, there was no reason to expect that she, or more importantly her sisters, would be given much of a dowry, and certainly not enough to secure their futures when Papa died. She knew that with Henry dead, then the heir presumptive would inherit when Papa died due to the entail that Mama so often mentioned in such strident tones, and the heir presumptive had no requirement by law or affection of familial ties to allow the Bennets to continue living at Longbourn.

There was a problem presented in front of Lizzy, one that she was sure she could solve. And Elizabeth Bennet was not one to suffer problems without doing whatever she could to fix them. That morning, after breakfast and after Mama had left to go to town but before Mrs. Byrne arrived to take them to Netherfield for their daily lessons, Lizzy made her move.

Knocking softly on Papa's door, she waited for the soft call of "Come in, Lizzy," before she entered. As she had expected, Papa appeared to have just then settled at the desk with a copy of a weathered, likely valuable volume, but had not yet begun to read.

He smiled at her, blue eyes twinkling like fresh snow over the rim of his glasses. "What do I owe this pleasure, seeing my favorite daughter this early in the day?"

Gathering her courage, Lizzy approached Papa's desk. "I have a proposal for you, Papa."

"Oh?" Papa chuckled softly, lifting one wiry gray brow. "How diverting."

Ignoring her father's teasing, Lizzy laid out her plan. "Mr. Carter on the western-most tenant field has had an early harvest. Ever since his two eldest sons have been helping him in the field he's said that things have never been easier for him. There's not much else for them to do at the moment, and he worries about his sons getting into trouble."

Papa made a noncommittal hum, though Lizzy knew he was still paying attention.

"One of the tenant farms on the Lucases property had a plowing accident last week," Lizzy continued, "And if they don't have help bringing in the harvest, they will likely not get it completed. Meanwhile, the Lucases had over double the number of sheep born this year, and now that it is weaning time, they are finding they do not have the land or feed to support such a herd. As I am sure you are aware, our own herd here at Longbourn did rather poorly this birthing season. So, I came up with a solution to solve these problems."

"You have, have you?" Papa asked, eyes twinkling. "Do tell."

"If we ask Mr. Carter to 'loan' the Carter sons to the Lucases until the end of the month to help them bring in their harvest, Mr. Lucas has said he will give us a dozen of their lambs. That will replenish our herd in the north field near Oakham mount, and ensure the Lucases' harvest does not suffer. The Carter boys will stay out of trouble, and Mr. Carter has said he can handle the next three weeks of tasks on his own with the younger son."

For a long moment, Papa remained silent, his shrewd blue eyes studying Lizzy over the thin wire rims over his glasses. His silence neither surprised nor worried Lizzy, who had often waited out her father's opinion and verdict in such a manner before.

But then, after more than a fair share of silent minutes passed between them, Papa did something entirely unexpected. He began to laugh. Papa laughed, long and merrily, putting a hand to his chest as he continued to do so for far longer than Lizzy was comfortable.

Of all of the things Lizzy imagined that her father might say or do when she managed to finally lay out her ideas and plans for Longbourn, laughter was not one of those things. She was not sure how to react as she stood there, in silence, and listened.

Finally, the laughter wound down. Papa adjusted his glasses, reaching for the slim leather-bound book he had put down when Lizzy had come into the room. "You truly are an unexpected thing, Lizzy," Papa smirked. Lifting the book up, he hid his still smirking face behind the pages, chuckling. "Truly, Lizzy, I do enjoy your company."

Again, Lizzy did not know how to react. Was that a yes? Was that a no? She opened her mouth to ask, but Papa interrupted her.

"Close the door on your way out, won't you, Lizzy?" he asked distractedly, already consumed in the pages before him.

Lizzy moved automatically, actions quick and practiced, but silent. She followed her father's request, exiting the room and gently closing the door behind her. In a daze, she went through the rest of her morning routine, gathering books to return to the Netherfield library, helping Mary to unearth the music Signore Mancini had given her, and holding Jane's pelisse while Jane soothed a squabble that had erupted between Kitty and Lyddie. Lizzy was halfway to Netherfield with her sisters and Mrs. Byrne before the full weight of what had just occurred hit her. Papa had laughed at her. She had done all of that studying, all of that worry, all of that concern over this, the subject dearest to her heart, and Papa had laughed at her.

For the first time, Lizzy could no longer come up with an excuse for her father's behavior, even one that sounded plausible in the privacy of her own mind. She had always been so entertained by his sharp wit that was used almost exclusively at the expense of others, but now she wondered if she had only enjoyed it because she herself had been spared its sharp sting. She had faced her first real rebuke from her beloved father, however gentle in comparison it was to the rebuke poor Kitty had received the night before. Still, Lizzy had recognized something in her father at that moment.

She had recognized a...a distance from her and her sisters, from all other people in the house really. One that might as well have been a chasm for all its breadth and the barrier it represented between mutual understanding.

The girls, bundled up for the chill in the October morning air, walked briskly past Mr. Carter's tenant house, where the two eldest sons were already roughhousing by their chicken coop while Mr. Carter looked on helplessly. And then, Lizzy realized something. Yes, Papa had laughed, but he hadn't actually told her 'no'.

Stopping in the middle of the lane, Lizzy turned to Mrs. Byrne, who had been waiting from the moment they set out for Netherfield for the most independent Bennet to finally address the dark cloud that hung around her.

"Mrs. Byrne," Lizzy said, "Please excuse me for a moment. I have a message to relay on behalf of my father to Mr. Carter."

Bobbing slightly, Lizzy broke away from her sisters and the somewhat puzzled Mrs. Byrne to go talk to Mr. Carter, who was now watching her approach with a hopeful sort of curiosity. Even his sons had stopped tussling in the yard. Yes, Lizzy assured herself, feeling more confident with each step. This was the right decision. Perhaps the only decision. There was a problem that Lizzy could fix, and she was not about to let it simply go ignored.

Because while Papa had laughed at her suggestion, Great Aunt Phoebe and Mr. Morris had not when she had first asked them their opinion of her plan just yesterday. Lizzy knew what she was capable of, knew that her idea was sound. She could do this. She should do this. Longbourn and Meryton were her home, and there was a problem that she knew she could solve. She decided, in that unassuming moment that would define her character forever, that she was going to solve this problem and any others that she might notice along the way. After all, Papa hadn't said no.

A/N: While a certain view of Mr. Bennet could certainly be called 'villainous', I want to be clear that he's not really a villain. He's just...uninterested in anyone's thoughts or opinions or desires save his own. Pretty much all he cares about are his books, and he's just not good at being a father, or at being a landowner. And if he wasn't a parent or landowner, I'm sure he'd be a perfectly nice, respectable, and good person! But even in the original book, I've never been impressed with his disinterest and apathy towards his daughter's lives and education, towards his own livelihood, towards Mrs. Bennet's annoying behavior but entirely well-founded concerns. I find it hard to swallow that a man who prides himself on his education and intelligence would be at ease, even encourage all but one of his immediate family to act so 'silly'. So this is a reflection of that. He's not a cruel man, he's not a villainous father, he's just...not all that great at things that aren't chess and philosophy. He loves them as best as he knows how, but his best still isn't all that good.

OH! Edit: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to the guest reviewer who suggested Libi Astaire. I love her and I'm only a fourth of the way through Tempest in the Tea Room. I've ordered three more of her books and I just can't recommend her enough!