A/N: I would like to include a trigger warning for a rash act of violence against a child by her mother, though there is no graphic description. If this bothers you, please save yourself the hurt and skip the rest of the entry for 10 September after Lydia leaves Lizzy and Jane's room.
I am so sorry that this is late, I've had problems publishing it for some reason. But the technical difficulties are over now, so here you go! An extra-long chapter as a treat.
Chapter 5: Quinque
10 September, 1803
Longbourn
Lydia Bennet was a contrary little girl of seven. As the youngest daughter and the youngest surviving child, Lydia was easily Mama's favorite. Of all of the Bennet daughters, Lydia was the one who took after Mama's features the most, with her silvery corkscrew curls, rounded bone structure, and deep sapphire eyes that came from the Gardiner side of the family. The cutting comments and troubling bemoaning of the other Bennet sister's faults that usually flowed from Mama's mouth like water from a river was never directed at the youngest Bennet; unless, of course, Mama caught Lydia doing the sort of things that Mrs. Byrne and Great Aunt Phoebe encouraged Lydia and her sisters to do.
Nothing was quicker to throw Mama into a rage or a 'fit of nerves' than whenever she saw Lydia reading Gauss's Disquisitiones Arithmeticae textbook on modular arithmetic.
Just thinking about it caused Lydia to look up from her illicit manuscript to check around her hiding place in Jane and Lizzy's room (Mama would never think to look for her here), listening for Mama's approaching footsteps. When she was sure that no one was approaching, she eagerly turned back to her precious mathematics treatise.
When Lizzy had first suggested that Lydia do her reading in Jane and Lizzy's room, Lydia's heart had swelled with pride. She'd always known, in the way that little sisters do, that her elder sisters were without a doubt the most beautiful, brilliant, talented, and kind young ladies in Meryton. Likely in all of England, possibly even the whole world.
In another life, Lydia might feel threatened by this, might have turned to other means to try and etch her own mark on the world, to stand out from such exceptional sisters.
As it was though, Lydia had grown up idolizing her sisters. Jane's kindness, Lizzy's leadership, Mary's understanding, Kitty's eager kinship. Even Lizzy's sometimes acerbic tongue was something amusing for her sisters to enjoy and playfully chide the second oldest over, and it was never cruelly directed at them the way Papa's often was. Lydia was aware, though she was still small, that she was often 'silly', but though Papa and sometimes even Mama told her time and again they did not have time for their 'silliest daughter', none of her sisters ever had. Especially not even quiet Mary.
Lydia loved Mama, she really did, but it was just so difficult to make Mama happy sometimes. Though she had thought and thought about it, Lydia could not fathom why Mama disliked Mrs. Byrne and Great Aunt Phoebe. Those worthy ladies were two of the most elegant and fashionable women Lydia had ever seen! Mrs. Byrne seemed to always know just what to say or how to behave; Great Aunt Phoebe was ever so smart and mannerly, almost regally so.
Even Lizzy, who was exceptionally hard to impress, loved and adored their Aunt Bee-bee.
For as long as she could remember, Lydia had tried very hard to keep everyone in her family happy with her, usually by doing what others wanted of her. But what Mama wanted, what Papa wanted, and what Great Aunt Phoebe or her sisters wanted were all very different things. She had long known that she was the only sister able to keep Mama's nerves from suffocating them all, and so doing what Mama wanted had become the most important thing to her by default.
In her own heart, Lydia longed to be like her sisters, following in Great Aunt Phoebe's footsteps. The path there, though, seemed endless. Lessons, lessons, lessons. It seemed to her as if she would never know the end of them. And they were so tiring and confusing, and Mama never agreed with anything she learned from them.
Sometimes she wondered if she would ever be like her sisters or Great Aunt Phoebe. She did so wish to be like them all, but it was so difficult for her to be ladylike, especially with Mama constantly scoffing at what Lydia told her they learned, and never failing to tell her to behave in a manner entirely counter to how Great Aunt Phoebe and Mrs. Byrne explained proper gentlewomen should behave.
Lydia's troubled thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Kitty's voice, slightly raised in distress, coming from the hallway. Carefully tucking her books away in their spot under a loose floorboard that Lizzy had shown her, Lydia silently ducked out of Jane and Lizzy's room.
Weaving silently down through the servant's passages, Lydia positioned herself at the base of the stairs up to the second floor, listening with shock at the words she could now hear perfectly.
"...selfish girl! Whatever has gotten into your head, Catherine Bennet, you get rid of it this moment!"
"But, Mama, Great Aunt Phoebe lent me those books from her personal library to study with-"
"Study?! Study! What a foolish thought. You're a pretty girl, Kitty, though not as pretty as my Jane or Lydia, but you're not some plain offense to femininity like Mary or that Lizzy, you don't need these stupid books! You need to get married! Lord, why won't anyone listen to me, oh my poor dear nerves, no one truly cares for me, do they?"
"Mama, please, may I have the books back? I must take them back to Great Aunt Phoebe-"
"Absolutely not! If that horrid woman has been forcing my beautiful girls to read these awful books, then that will be the end of you going to see that wretched woman. Do you hear me? The end of it!"
"But we love Great Aunt Phoebe, she-!"
There was a sharp, cracking sound, that seemed to echo in the ensuing silence for far too long, followed by a quiet cry of pain and soft sobbing.
Lydia's small frame positively boiled with rage. Thundering up the stairs as fast as her little feet could take her, she rounded the top of the stairs to find that Mama had cornered Kitty against the balustrades and that the two agricultural novels that Kitty had begged to read after Lizzy were now in Mama's clawed hand.
Kitty was crying, holding her cheek and shaking and trying to stifle the rough coughs that always bubbled up when she was distressed like this as she pressed up against the railing, as far away from the looming, enraged figure of their mother as possible. At any other moment Lydia might have shied away from entering into such a scene, might have balked at the sight of her mother's features twisted into an expression almost like hate.
At that moment though, with fury pounding in every beat of her heart, Lydia did not even hesitate. Shoving past her mother, Lydia came to a sudden stop in front of Kitty, arms spread protectively, feet firmly planted.
"Stop being mean to Kitty!" Lydia snarled fiercely. "You're being mean and that's not nice! You're just...you're just jealous! 'Cause Kitty's smarter than you are, she's better than you are!"
Mama's expression was livid, slowly coloring a bright shade of furious red. Then, suddenly, when Lydia finished speaking, Mama's face drained of blood. Her eyes lost that fever-bright fire and instead turned frigidly cold.
Lydia wasn't exactly sure what happened. All she knew was that at one moment, she was standing at the top of the stairs between Kitty and Mama. The next, she was blearily looking up from the bottom of the stairs, pain radiating through her body, particularly her left leg.
At the top of the stairs, Kitty was clutching her cheek but was now sprawled over the railing staring at Lydia in horrified shock, her face streaked with tears. Mama was standing squarely at the top of the stairs, peering down her nose at Lydia.
In a rush, Mama's face twisted into her familiar nervous expression, and she carelessly dropped the books to begin wringing her hands. "Never," Mama cried, "have I been treated like this. A mother, so betrayed by her own daughters! Hill! Hill! My salts, oh my poor nerves!"
Mama disappeared from the stairs towards her bedroom in a flurry of fluttering hands and moaning of her spasms. Lydia's head was spinning, spinning, the world around her narrowing and fuzzing, pain radiating through her entire body and blotting out everything else. The last thing she remembered was Mary and Jane's calm voices soothing a hysterical Kitty, while Lizzy's worried face hovered above her before the pain finally pulled her into darkness.
11 September, 1803
Longbourn
Someone was knitting, she could hear the soft click-clack of the needles. The warm autumn sunlight coming in from the open windows brushed over Lydia's arms and face, and she sighed contentedly, not even bothering to open her eyes yet, her head still in that fuzzy place of sleep.
"I cannot thank you enough for coming, Great Aunt Phoebe," a familiar voice said, tight with worry and exhaustion. "I know it is not altogether proper, what with having to sneak you up here through the servant's passages, and I am so-"
"Dearest Jane," the soothing maternal voice of Great Aunt Phoebe answered, "I will not hear another word of apology. We must do what we must do, and Heaven knows that the only way to keep peace at Longbourn is if neither of your parents knows of my visit. I was determined to assure myself of Lyddie's well-being, and sneaking through the servant's passages was almost...fun."
Great Aunt Phoebe's voice was teasing by the end, but Jane still sighed, the sound strained. "I know, you have always been so good to us. With everything that has happened here, I just...I do not..." Jane's voice quivered, and there was a small, choked sound of tears.
Wood creaked, and Great Aunt Phoebe's voice had moved with the rustle of fabric. "Oh, Janie, dear sweet Janie. Come here, dearest."
For a while, all that could be heard was the soft sounds of sobs and soothing, comforting assurances. Lydia wanted to speak, but she was still so tired...
She dozed, for how long she did not know, but when she came back aware of the room at large, Jane was once again calm, talking softly with Great Aunt Phoebe.
"...but I just feel awful about it. I feel as if I am lying to Mama and Papa, though I know their reactions if they knew you had been here would be -" Jane cut herself off, seeming to remember she was speaking of her parents, and said very quietly, "Please forgive my insolence, Aunt. I know I should respect my parents better."
No reply immediately came from Great Aunt Phoebe, and Lydia, even in her drugged and pained state, could well imagine the assessing, thoughtful look on the dowager's face. Eventually, she heard the great lady say, "You do not have anything to apologize for, Jane. I admire your loyalty to your parents, and your goodness in trying to respect them, but the point of concern is moot. Mrs. Bennet is out in Meryton and is busy, forgive me, making a fool of herself in her loud performance of despair over Lydia's injury, though she has yet to admit to her own actions being the cause. Mr. Bennet never leaves his study now that Lizzy is running the entire estate, God watch over her, and as I snuck in through the servant's entrance and up the servant's passages, he will never know of my visit and therefore will not use that knowledge to antagonize Mrs. Bennet."
"Yes, I know," Jane agreed, not even protesting over the harsh descriptions of her parents. "Though what if Mama returns suddenly? She was supposed to visit Aunt Phillips, and Uncle Phillips ends their visits early so often these days."
A brief moment passed, a chair creaking and fabric rustling. When Great Aunt Phoebe spoke, her voice had shifted also, as if she had moved closer to Jane. "Your uncle is trying to protect your aunt's fragile feelings. She and I have shared the grief of losing children, and while I have Noah to dote on, and you girls to love as well, your aunt has no children of her own, and she has long been your mother's favorite target to torment." Jane tried to protest, but Great Aunt Phoebe only continued, "Should your mother return sooner than expected, I will sneak back down through the servant's hallways as planned. Lord knows Mrs. Bennet does everything in her power to remind the servants that she is 'above' them by staying as far away from their areas as possible."
There was another creak of wood and rustle of fabric.
Great Aunt Phoebe sighed. "I know it is not kind of me to speak so critically of your parents, but when I look at Lyddie..." Great Aunt Phoebe's voice became tight. "I find it very difficult to be charitable."
"Yes," Jane murmured, so softly that Lydia almost could not hear her. "So do I."
Silence reigned then, the only sound the faraway tick-tocking of the clock in the hall, the faint sounds of breathing, and the jittery clack of knitting needles.
Lydia had once again begun to be swayed into sleep's warm embrace when the knitting needles suddenly ceased.
With the words spilling out over one another in a rush, Jane admitted, miserably, "Oh, Aunt, I can hardly stand sitting here. I know the Bible says that children should love and respect their parents, but I cannot...look at what our parents have done! Were it not for you, all five of us daughters would be totally uneducated, completely without connections or friends due to Mama and her vulgar behavior. We would behave as utter harridans, I am sure of it. She would have nothing less. Papa has thrust the responsibility and burden of running an entire estate, one that was in decline prior to her interference, even, upon Lizzy! She is brilliant and capable, of course, but she's only twelve. That is to say nothing of the unequal favor Mama and Papa spread between us daughters, their unfeeling words to Mary, Mama's horrible treatment of Lizzy and Papa using Lizzy like a pawn in a chess game he's playing against Mama, and the manner in which they both dismiss Kitty and her often delicate health. And now, this!"
Jane's voice was not loud enough to be understood by anyone outside the room, but Lydia could hear it clearly, and her heart clenched at the despair in her sister's voice.
Her usually demure eldest sister was trying so hard to maintain her usual calm, she could hear tears in her voice as Jane continued, "Kitty is distraught with guilt, Lizzy is absolutely enraged and will not even speak to Mama or Papa, Mary is frightened, and I have been trying to play peacemaker between my sisters and our parents when all I want to do is shake Mama and ask her how she could bear to strike Kitty or Lyddie, how she can live with who she has become, ask Papa the same question. He treated this whole incident as if it was a clever joke. He called it a diversion!" There was the soft clatter as knitting needles fell to the floor, and Jane's voice became somewhat muffled like she was covering her face with her hands. "I know I should love and respect them, but I...I...oh, Aunt, I fear I hate them!"
Sobs once again came forth, and this time Lydia tried to rise to reassure Jane that she was alright, really, everything would be ok. It would just be the five sisters and Aunt Bee-bee again, and Jane had nothing to cry over. She wanted to tell Jane that she was sorry to have upset her like this. But the laudanum likely still in her body kept her from doing more than twitching her eyes open in time to see Great Aunt Phoebe hugging Jane close, gently rocking her through her sobs.
"There, there, dearest," Great Aunt Phoebe hushed, "I understand, far more than you know. Oh, I have always worried about you, Janie. You have always been far too good for the rest of the world. I had hoped that your rose-colored glasses would never need to be removed, but it seems that my wishes have been thwarted."
Lydia watched Great Aunt Phoebe lean back to look sweet Jane in the eye.
"Janie," Great Aunt Phoebe said firmly but kindly, "It is noble and just of you to look for goodness in all others that you know. More than one of your sisters has admitted admiration of this trait in you. But there is a danger, dearest, in looking for goodness to the exclusion of all else. It is unfortunately likely that you might miss a sign of lesser qualities. As your coming out has approached, we have often talked about how gentlewomen need to protect themselves from some men, and this is a skill I am afraid you must learn to use with all others, not just suitors, but other friends and acquaintances and even with your family. Do not stop looking for goodness in others, pray do not. Instead, learn to look for the good as well as the potential bad."
Jane nodded, but Lydia's heavy eyelids finally could not remain open any longer and they fell closed.
"What about Mama and Papa?" Jane asked miserably. "I do not know what to do, what to think or how to behave."
Great Aunt Phoebe sighed. "It is a difficult thing, to realize that your parents have faults, and, forgive me for saying this, your parent's faults are grave indeed. However, their faults are not yours to atone for. Their actions and words are not your own. I advise you to speak with Meryton's pastor, Mr. Drummond, but I am sure he will tell you the same thing I am saying. Yes, the Bible tells us to respect and love our parents. However, our parents are human and therefore fallible. It is not a sin to sometimes go against your parent's wishes or instructions in order to do the right thing or to protect yourself or others from harm. You must learn to lead your own path, Janie."
Again there was silence, the only sound the very faint tick-tock of the wall clock outside in the upstairs hallway.
Then, Jane took a deep breath. "Yes," she said, a faint breath of a new strength Lydia did not recognize in her voice. "I understand, Great Aunt Phoebe. I think I will speak to Mr. Drummond, but you have given me much to think about today. Thank you."
"Anytime, Janie," Great Aunt Phoebe replied, her voice light and fond.
Lydia fell asleep again soon after. She did not know how long it had been until she felt the pull of laudanum ebbing, but she was still so very tired.
Again she could hear the click-clack of knitting needles, as well as someone softly singing. She tried to settle down to sleep some more, but in her movements, her left leg twinged in pain, and she couldn't stop the small sound that escaped her. The singing stopped just as Lydia opened her eyes, blinking owlishly and childishly rubbing her fists over her eyes in an attempt to properly wake up to figure out what was going on, and more specifically why her leg hurt.
"Easy," the singer said, and Lydia turned to look at her eldest sister. Jane's smile was slightly forced, but no less loving for it. "Doctor White says the break was clean, but it will pain you for a time."
"Hm?" Lydia asked slowly, her voice still thick with sleep. "What do you mean?" Hadn't Great Aunt Phoebe said something about Lydia's well-being? Didn't that mean she was well?
Great Aunt Phoebe sat on the corner of the bed, taking Lydia's hand and smiling sadly. "I'm afraid you took a tumble down the stairs, Lyddie. I sent for my physician from London after I heard. You have broken your leg, though as Jane said Doctor White assured us it was a clean break, and there are some other bruises, but otherwise, you are well. Doctor White says it is likely you will be fully healed in two months' time."
Memories assaulted Lydia as she listened to Great Aunt Phoebe. Reading Gauss in secret in Lizzy and Jane's room, hearing Kitty's distress, her anger at her mother for striking Kitty, getting between Mama and Kitty and then-
"I didn't 'tumble' down the stairs," Lydia said sharply, angry tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Mama pushed me. She slapped Kitty and she pushed me."
Jane's smile vanished, and Great Aunt Phoebe's did as well. "Yes," Great Aunt Phoebe said gravely. "She did."
Lydia thought for a moment, trying to blink away her tears. She hurt, not just her leg, but her chest too. Like something had ahold of her heart and was squeezing. Mama has always claimed to love Lydia best, even above Jane sometimes, and though Lydia had often been uncomfortable by this favor, she had always been assured of it. She knew that Mama was not the most understanding or attentive mother, but to strike Kitty and berate her just for reading a few books, and then to push Lydia down the stairs...
Taking a deep breath, Lydia tried to gather herself. She could so easily have fallen into the hysterics that wanted to burst free from her, but she would not let herself. Mama had encouraged loud and brash and disruptive behavior from Lydia, much liked Mama's own, but no more, Lydia decided viciously. Be like Lizzy, she thought. Strong. Be like Mary, calm. She tilted her chin up into what Kitty fondly called her 'Sophie chin' for its similarity to Sophie's habit of angling her chin a certain way when she was feeling particularly stubborn about something. "I do not want to stay here while I am recovering," Lydia said softly, firmly.
Both Jane and Great Aunt Phoebe blinked in surprise. "Oh?" Great Aunt Phoebe asked, lifting a curious brow. "I cannot say I disagree with you. What do you suggest?"
Immediately Lydia slumped, for she had no answer.
There was a knock at the door, and all three of them hushed. Before any of them could move or speak, a quiet voice said, "Jane, it's me, I wanted to check on Lyddie. Lizzy and Kitty are painting in the front garden to watch for Mama."
They all relaxed and Jane let Mary in. Mary was relieved to see her sister awake, and wrapped her in a careful hug.
"I am so glad to see you," Mary sighed, hugging Lydia just a little bit tighter before reluctantly letting go, the middle Bennet sister's gray eyes bright with tumultuous emotion. Mary was frowning faintly as she sat beside Jane, pulling one of the sitting room chairs close to the bedside. "Kitty is sick with worry, and Lizzy has been trying to temper her guilt, but even though Charlotte was kind enough to visit and try to lift her spirits, Lizzy is not feeling quite herself. None of us sisters are, I'm afraid."
Lydia grasped Mary's hand and squeezed. "You are all so dear to me. I'm so sorry to have worried everyone. Kitty is not to feel guilty for anything, I won't allow it, and you may tell her so." Her chin tilted even higher than before, a determined glint in her eyes. "I would do exactly the same thing again to keep Mama from striking Kitty or any of my other sisters even once, no matter how many broken bones or bruises it costs."
Jane's eyes watered with tears, and Mary smiled a pained but proud thing, while Great Aunt Phoebe chuckled roughly, her own eyes wet. "You are such a gallant little thing, little Lyddie."
Blushing softly, Lydia tried to brush off the praise, but quietly, she held the words close to her heart, easing some of that bitter pain inside as she did. "I did what was needed, nothing more."
Mary kissed Lydia's forehead, smiling softly. "You cannot shrug off such praise from us, but we will let you be for now." Then Mary sobered, a searching gaze turning to Lydia. "I do not think it is wise for you to remain at Longbourn while you heal."
"I agree," Lydia sighed, "But I do not know what to do about it."
Great Aunt Phoebe squeezed her hand and Lydia turned to the dowager to listen as the countess said, "Lyddie, you know you are always welcome at Netherfield."
For a moment, Lydia's heart soared. What a perfect place to be while she recovered! She could read her books in peace and maybe even catch up on some of the lessons she had missed when Mama had insisted Lydia accompany her to Meryton and therefore abandon time at the educational heaven that was Netherfield. But just as quickly as the hope had grown, it died out. "That would be ideal, but we will never convince Papa to allow it, and Mama..."
There was an uncharacteristic mischief in Mary's eyes as she shook her head. "Not so, Lyddie. I have a plan, and as long as everyone agrees, it should work splendidly. Will you hear me out?"
The other gathered ladies readily agreed, and Mary straightened to explain her scheme. "The doctor who is tending you is Great Aunt Phoebe's own, and therefore is staying at Netherfield. We would begin by suggesting to Mama that it is an awfully far journey for a doctor to take, should something suddenly become amiss. Then, you would tell Mama in 'confidence' that you wished to be at Netherfield to be closer to, forgive me Aunt, 'dear Noah' while you healed."
By now all the ladies were smiling, and Great Aunt Phoebe was taking great effort to swallow her laughter. "By all means, Mary darling, continue."
Mary was quick to oblige. "Now I know that perhaps this last part will be difficult to ask of you and more difficult to perform, but I truly believe that if Lyddie can make a loud enough fuss about her pain and the concern the doctor might not get to Longbourn in time if something should go wrong, Mama will feed off of that and make a fuss of her own, by which point Papa would likely carry her to Netherfield himself so the house would know peace again."
A small chitter of laughter floated between the ladies. Great Aunt Phoebe reached out to tuck a curl that had fallen loose behind Mary's ear. "Dear Mary, how clever. I think it would certainly work."
The middle Bennet daughter smiled and blushed prettily. "Of course, we sisters would be remiss if we did not attend you daily while you heal. And then, after you have healed, it would be most ungrateful if you, Lyddie, were to ever again skip attending lessons at Netherfield in order to accompany Mama. She would not be able to bear the questioning and sniping of her friends. You would be free to join us every day!"
It was only then, as the full brilliance of the plan and its assurances for the future were laid out, that Lydia allowed herself to cry. She would have a painful trip and long recovery in front of her, but she had finally, finally been given something more precious.
Freedom.
13 October, 1803
Ephrussi Place, St. Petersburg
The Ephrussi house was alive with activity.
Nikolai's fencing instructor was finishing up a lesson with his prize student in the training rooms below the opulent, palatial rooms of Ephrussi Place. Sophie was practicing a new aria with her singing instructor in the music room, on the brand new pianoforte that the fifteen-year-old princess had been given for her birthday three months prior.
Sergei and Ivan were working with Kira and some of her 'sisters' (those among the maids who had been assaulted by the nobility, then brought by Maggie's, Ivan's, or Sergei's own hand to one of their properties to recover and strengthen, who had then chosen to learn how to defend themselves and others to become ladies maids who doubled as bodyguards against their charges person and reputation, some 'sisters' even worked as assassins) in the study, planning an extraction of a maid in Kiev who was suffering the unwelcome attentions of a visiting duke. The maid had reached out through the usual method, all of those who worked below stairs knew of a 'friend of a friend', passing along information into the right ears when someone in service was in trouble. None of them knew it was Sergei's hand directing the flow of information, or ultimately saving them, but that wasn't necessarily something that they needed to know.
Maggie, descending the stairs from where she had taken tea in her private office upstairs, smiled and accepted the packet of letters their head butler held out to her. "Is my husband still working?" she asked.
The man nodded. "Since breakfast, your radiance."
With a soft sigh, Maggie nodded at the butler. "Thank you, Lev. If my husband or the children ask, I will be in the solarium catching up on correspondence."
All of the more...sensitive portions of her correspondence had been attended to over tea in her office. Now, all that was left was to bask in the weak fall sunlight and read the latest news from her dear Phoebe.
Lev bowed, smiling faintly at the much-loved matriarch before he went to attend his duties.
Maggie took her time walking to the solarium, sitting in her favorite seat by the wide glass windows, and leisurely opening Phoebe's letter while she hummed along to the aria her daughter was practicing.
Fifteen minutes later, Maggie strode from the solarium, the open letter clutched in her hand, her face solemn. Quick as she could, she went to her husband's office door and knocked the pre-approved pattern that signaled she needed to talk to him - immediately.
The door swung open, Sergei's concerned face on the other side as he reached for her, one hand gently cupping her face while the other pulled her into the office by the grasp on her waist. "My soul-light, are you alright? The children? What's wrong?"
Her husband's loving concern brought a warm smile to her face, and Maggie leaned in to press her forehead to his. "I am alright, my love, and so are the children. None of ours are in immediate danger, though there has been an...incident."
Kira and her sisters, who had been watching them all very carefully, tense and ready to follow any sudden orders, relaxed.
Sergei let out a long breath, murmuring a quiet prayer in Hebrew, and then kissed her, slow and sweet. When he pulled away, he turned to Kira and her sisters. "Go forward with the plan. Reach out if you need help. I trust your instincts."
The smile on Kira's face was proud and slightly frightening, but she bowed slightly to them both, and she and her sisters left the room, off to complete their individual parts of their mission. The door shut behind them with a soft click.
Here, Sophie's smile faltered as she looked once again at the letter in her hand, anger creasing her face as she spoke to her husband and Ivan. "I need to speak with you both about a report of a most alarming nature that Phoebe has given me. I fear we will need to send the children with Kira and a few of her sisters, and perhaps Boris and Andrei as well."
His wife's suggestion that they send Kira and her sisters, as well as Boris and Andrei, two of Ivan's most prized students in spycraft and combat, gave Sergei great pause.
"Maggie, what is it?" He asked cautiously.
Ivan was standing at attention, ready to spring into action at his Mistress' lightest command.
Maggie handed Sergei the note, her mouth tight with anger, her voice low. "Phoebe wrote this last month, but there is a lengthy postscript after the usual updates, the request for Kolya and Sophie to visit, and her closing. You remember the children and Phoebe telling us about the Bennets at Longbourn?"
Both men nodded, frowning. They were protective men, so Phoebe's report of Mrs. Bennet's mercenary and even occasionally cruel nature had concerned them, only being offset by the fact that the daughters, at least, were everything lovely, well-behaved, educated, and kind. Not to mention that the second eldest, Elizabeth Bennet, had saved Sophie's life her first day in London. Phoebe's own approval and adoration of the sisters she treated like daughters was another point in their favor, so neither man had objected at the friendship, merely remained suspicious of the mother.
Sergei looked down at the letter but did not try to take it from her. "I will not read your private correspondence unless it is too upsetting for you to impart."
The smile Maggie gave him was somewhat strained, but sincere and loving, and it warmed Sergei's heart.
"Just so," Maggie said, then her smile vanished. "Phoebe has told me often that Mrs. Bennet can be thoughtlessly hurtful to her daughters, and outright cruel to Miss Elizabeth. The things she has heard that woman tell that child...I cannot repeat them. But this? I cannot understand this woman." Anger glittered in Maggie's pale blue eyes, and she forced herself to take a calming breath before telling both men a little more background into the Longbourn situation, starting with the birth and death of the would-be heir, Henry Bennet, Mrs. Bennet's unjust blame of Miss Elizabeth, and how little Mrs. Bennet approved of Phoebe and especially of Phoebe's determination to educate the Bennet sisters. Finally, she told them of Miss Lydia's attempt to protect her next eldest sister Miss Kitty from Mrs. Bennet's wrath, only to be shoved down the stairs by her own mother.
Ivan cursed bitterly, and Sergei had to fight back his own angry words, finally asking, "How old is the child? Is she well?"
"Miss Lydia is only seven, and while she thankfully sustained no injury that will not heal in her fall, her right leg was broken," Maggie waited for the men's bitter curses to die out before continuing, "The middle sister, Miss Mary, has devised a way to arrange for Miss Lydia to heal at Netherfield away from Mrs. Bennet, but Phoebe is terrified that the woman will strike out against one of the children again."
Determination hardened Sergei's face like stone. "That must not be allowed to happen." If there was one sacred thing left in the world, it was the safety of children.
Frowning, Sergei turned to the table taking up the middle of the study, where an assortment of maps were spread over the surface, dotted with neat, coded markings. Staring at the maps, Sergei tried to fight against the dawning realization coming over him. There was no denying it was time now. He just hadn't expected it to come so soon.
Hanging his head, Sergei let out a long sigh, closing his eyes tight as memories danced through his head. Maggie's soft hands rubbed soothingly over his back in slow, smooth circles.
Looking up, Sergei met Ivan's knowing gaze. "Bring her in, please. It's time."
Ivan nodded and immediately left the room.
Maggie and Sergei waited in silence until the door opened and Ivan ushered in a confused Sophie. "Mama, Papa, is everything alright?"
In the years since Ivan and Sergei had begun teaching the two Ephrussi children hand-to-hand combat, as well as other assorted weapons training, Sophie had followed Ivan's prediction of her blossoming skill. Strategy and secrecy seemed to come naturally to the princess, and for years now there had been no question that it would be Sophie who took up her father's mantle, protecting those who needed it. Nikolai was more than capable, this was true, but Sophie was a leader in a way that her brother was not, she was comfortable dealing with things her brother had no desire to, and so in a private conversation the previous year on the prince's sixteenth birthday, Nikolai had gladly given up any claim to his father's spy cabal.
The only question, then, became how to begin Sophie's ascension. Maggie had told Sergei that he'd just know when the time was right, and like always, his lovely wife had been correct.
What better way to start Sophie on her journey than with this, Sergei thought to himself as he kissed his dear daughter's cheek. "I am afraid we have some unpleasant news about your friends in Meryton, starlight."
The unpleasant story was told quickly, with a few additional details from Maggie about the manner in which Mary Bennet had managed to arrange Lydia's recuperation at Netherfield meant to alleviate some of the anger-born tension in the room.
Listening carefully, Sophie's eyes flashed in anger, her mouth a grim line. When the story was completed, her brow furrowed. "Why is Kolya not here, the girls are his friends too."
Sergei met Sophie's intense gaze head-on. "Your brother will be told, of course, but we asked for you alone for a...specific reason."
Those night-sky eyes of Sophie's darted between her parents and Ivan, who stood silent guard by the door. Raising her chin raising stubbornly, she asked, "What can I do to help?"
Reaching out to tuck a dark curl behind her daughter's ear, Maggie smiled proudly. "That is precisely why we have asked you to be here."
Looking at his daughter, only fifteen but so grown up and capable compared with the laughing little girl of six who he'd played tag with in these very halls, Sergei had to swallow the knot of pride in his throat. "Sophronia, it is time for you to begin your training to take over as head of my work. Of our family's work."
Sophie's eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in shock. "But...I thought..."
"Before you ask," Sergei lifted a hand to forestall the words, "Your brother is eager to see you rise to my place. You have his full support. We did not tell you when he and I discussed it last year because we were not sure when you would be ready to begin training for this position."
Maggie nodded. "And now..."
"Now you are ready," Sergei's voice was thick, and he very gracefully pretended not to see Ivan dash away tears on his sleeve. "And more than that, your friends will need your help to set up a way to protect them from Mrs. Bennet."
For a moment, Sophie only stood there, blinking at the two of them in shocked silence. Then, she turned to the table covered in maps, and unconsciously mirrored her father's position from a few minutes before. She took a few deep breaths, thinking.
Without turning back to them, Sophie said quietly, "Mr. Bennet cannot know either. He will only use whatever protective measures we might install to further antagonize his wife. The way to protect them is through the servants. I know from previous visits to Longbourn that Mrs. Bennet rules her staff with an iron fist, usually through blackmail, intimidation, and abuse."
Now it was her parent's turn to blink in shock.
Looking over her shoulder, Sophie smirked. "You did teach me to see things no one else did. Find out the things others try to hide."
Ivan chuckled quietly into his shoulder, and Maggie hid her own laughter behind her hand while a slow smile spread over Sergei's face. "What a kingdom you will raise, my little lion made of starlight."
Sophie smiled broadly and motioned all of them to join her around the table. "If we can do for the Bennets what we did for Aunt Phoebe, and help the current Longbourn staff find new work outside of Mrs. Bennet's poisonous reach, we can then slowly start phasing in people of our own who will protect the girls, maybe we can even do a little blackmail of our own."
She looked to Sergei, lower lip caught between her teeth, gingerly awaiting his approval.
"Just so, as your mother would say," Sergei said quietly, not keeping her in suspense for a moment. "It will take time. Months, possibly a year depending on how many of the staff you plan to replace."
It had been difficult, almost impossible at times for them to arrange protection for Phoebe across the distance that separated them. Sergei had made two trips to England to arrange things himself, the only way that things had seemed to get done.
"At least as many of them that want to leave Longbourn," Sophie shrugged. "And I do not want to strain resources here by taking too many of our local operators out of commission. I'll start with just taking a few of our own, anyone who wants to leave Russia, likely not to return. If Kira's willing to come with me, she can help me find some people in England, train them accordingly, and then integrate them with the Longbourn staff. We should tell Jane and Lizzy and Mary, of course, but I'll leave it up to them on whether they tell Kitty or Lyddie."
Looking at her father, Sophie assured him, "I will not tell them anything that could threaten what we do, and I trust that they will not ask."
Even though he had known that this letter's arrival likely meant that Sophie would be bound for England long term, even longer than the usual time she and her brother spent in England, Sergei still faced this news with a sinking heart. And where Sophie went, Nikolai would always follow. Swallowing, Sergei discreetly reached down to thread his fingers through Maggie's and squeezed reassuringly. "Well then, starlight," he said, "we had better begin planning."
Maybe they could even get Nikolai into Eton for the rest of their school year, Sergei thought quietly. They'd stay with Phoebe, of course, as they normally did when they went to England.
But...they would no longer always be at home. This was only the beginning of it. Their children, his and Maggie's wonderful, brilliant, incredible children, were growing up.
Maggie squeezed his fingers where they were still interlaced with his, and he looked up into her brilliant blue eyes. He still had Maggie, and his children would be safe and happy. Taking another deep breath to steady himself, Sergei turned back to listen to Sophie, ready to guide her and offer advice on how to proceed.
A/N: This is probably a good place to address Mrs. Bennet. There is no question that she is an abusive parent, emotionally and sometimes physically. Part of this is because of her selfish personality that's evident in the original book, but here it's compounded infinitely with the undiagnosed Postpartum Depression that she suffers from. Mental health care and understanding being what it was (very very poor, especially for women) during this time, she didn't receive any treatment or help for this condition, and it eventually turned her into a very angry, bitter, cruel, and selfish woman when her only son Henry died. While this is an explanation of her psyche, it is in no way an excuse, her behavior is absolutely inexcusable.
I love reading P&P fanfictions and I love seeing all the different takes on how the Bennets could have been if this or that had been different. An intelligent Lydia is actually my favorite Lydia interpretation. I see her as being almost entirely too similar to Lizzy in personality and broadness of mind, but her intelligence was stunted by her mother's monopolization of her time. In this story, she gets to be smart and pretty, lively and well behaved. Having a closer relationship with all of her sisters helps, much as it does for Mary and Kitty. I also want to assure everyone that no Bennet sister is the single main character of this story. Each Bennet will get her own focus and plot, though some stories may take longer to unfold than others. This is, after all, a story of the Bennet sisters, not just Lizzy and Darcy. Yes, Darcy and the Bingleys and all the other usual characters will make an appearance, but we have a bit to go!
I don't know if you can tell, but I absolutely adore Maggie. I also just love male characters who are unrepentantly in love with their wives. Think Will Smith's presentation of his own wife Jada Pinkett Smith on red carpets, the big 'Here she is! She's amazing!' gesture. I just love it, and that is exactly the kind of energy that Sergei has where his Maggie is concerned.
Gauss: Gauss's work of Disquisitiones Arithmeticae was in fact a mathematical textbook written in 1798 and published in 1801. The dates might not line up 100% correctly, as I have found conflicting sources on the exact date it was available to purchase. It might not come up later in the story, so I have to say it now, but it is my firm opinion that Ada Byron King and Caroline Herschell are the most amazing women in Regency science and mathematics, and I so wanted to use their work for what Lydia was studying, but their work was not yet published in 1801 (Ada Byron would not be born until 1815!) so Gauss and his work will do just fine. And yes, this work is very much out of Lydia's range of understanding at the time, as is some other the other works she and her sisters have been reading from such young ages, but she loves math and enjoys just reading the book even though she doesn't understand it yet. (She will eventually, though, haha.)
Broken bones: I consulted with a medical professional and was assured that a clean break of the femur (the biggest bone in the leg) would take the longest to heal due to its size, but in a healthy seven-year-old girl the maximum healing time would be two months. Other breaks/fractures would take various other time frames, but in this case, Lydia just broke her femur once and very cleanly. She also did not have a concussion, just passed out from the pain and fright of falling down the stairs, and the laudanum she was given after her fall muddled her memory and concept of time passing until it started to wear off, where she overhears Jane and Great Aunt Phoebe's conversation.