A/N: Hello everyone! I'm so sorry that this is so late, but life has got in the way of my writing recently. Snowflake, my pet ferret, had to be taken to the pet hospital for emergency surgery on the 13th. Unfortunately, she died last Friday, and I just haven't been able to focus much. Never fear, future chapters will be up on Saturdays as planned. Thank you for understanding. This week, we're spending time with Jane and her new paramour, as well as one of my favorite scenes of the Bennet sisters.
Chapter 9: Novem
May 19, 1806
Longbourn
The sunlight peeking out over the treeline was weak in the early morning, but Lydia didn't mind. It was more than bright enough for her purposes at this hour of the day.
The smell of summer was already thick around her, and for a moment Lydia tilted her head back and breathed it in. The green grass, the wildflowers, even the scent of the early morning dew, it was all just so wonderful. There was no season she liked better than summer, with its long warm days full of things to do. However, there was something else she was waiting, very impatiently, to do.
Lydia turned around in her seat atop of Celeritas, frowning as she scanned the woods. Celeritas was prancing beneath her, echoing his mistress' impatience.
Huffing lightly, Lydia muttered to herself, "Where could he possibly..."
A smile lit up her face as she recognized distant hoofsteps, a flash of a dark shape charging through the woods.
Celeritas whinnied, eager to set off as he recognized the approaching challenge, but he obediently waited for his mistresses command.
He did not have to wait long. Squeezing her knees tightly around Celeritas, Lydia leaned low over her mount's neck and urged, "Run, Celeritas."
With a triumphant whinny, the stallion obeyed.
On each side of the lone fence separating Longbourn and Lucas Lodge's lands, a horse and rider raced. One was dark as night, the other bright as the sunlight gleaming over the valley. Both riders, as they always did since that first morning they had accidentally stumbled upon one another, and every morning since, playfully urged their competitive horses faster, further, hooves almost flying over the ground.
Laughter rang through the trees as the two pairs raced by, startling some woodland creatures from their early morning habits.
All too soon, the end of the fields came upon them. This time, it was Lydia who was the victor.
Crowing in victory as both she and her competitor came to a stop, Lydia turned to face the other ride. "Well, John Lucas," she beamed, strong as sunshine, "it appears Cambridge has been causing your horsemanship to deteriorate."
John shook his head, smiling. "I cannot be blamed for losing against such a fine rider as yourself, Lyddie."
She laughed, and John joined her. It was not at all proper or respectable, the two of them meeting in a silent but mutually agreed upon pact following that November morning to race their horses along the same stretch of land. But it was their secret, and John could not help himself. His freedoms were becoming fewer by the day as he prepared to become a man, through a path he had not yet even told Charlotte of yet. Watching little Lydia Bennet race her father's stallion was something he could not give up.
The horses, who by now had both lost and triumphed against the other many times, nickered playfully, happy to see their friend.
Leaving their mounts to catch their breath and graze the sweet summer grass, Lydia tilted her head at John, frowning playfully. "Did you get taller while you were at Cambridge? When I saw you at Lucas Lodge I thought you looked taller."
Shrugging easily, John replied, "I think I must have, yes."
Rolling her eyes, but smiling to show it for the teasing jest that it was, Lydia complained, "La, will you never stop growing tall?"
John laughed. "You are one to talk. You have sprout up like a weed, Miss Lydia."
Putting a hand to her mouth and affecting offense, Lydia cried dramatically, "I should thank you to never liken me to a weed, Mr. Lucas!"
They both laughed, letting silence fall between them for a long moment.
Birds sang their happy morning songs in the branches of the nearby trees, and in the distance, Lydia could hear the soft babble of a nearby brook, as well as the bees from their hive where they were busy making honey. Oh, how she loved summer.
"How have you been, Miss Lydia?" John asked, still smiling.
"Very well, Mr. Lucas," she answered as politely as Great Aunt Phoebe had taught her. "And yourself?"
"Very well," John answered. "I am glad to be home, and even gladder to have brought a good friend of mine to share in the enjoyment of country life here in Meryton with me."
Lifting a teasing brow, Lydia asked, "Is that what Lieutenant Ross came to Meryton for? I hope he enjoys the blue eyes in the face of country life here in Meryton."
John's humor vanished. "Lyddie, you should not say such things."
Dropping her smile, Lydia sighed. "You are right. I would never say anything where any of the gossips Mrs. Bennet spends her time with might hear, but it is a good reminder all the same." Shifting in her seat, Lydia looked carefully around them.
Doing the same, John noticed nothing out of place, only the peaceful quiet of the countryside in its typical summer morning fashion.
Lydia turned back to John, her expression serious, and surprisingly discerning. "You will have to forgive my impropriety. I must ask. Does he care for her?"
There was no question who they were speaking of now. Jane Bennet was the jewel of Meryton, and it was clear to everyone that Lieutenant Ross was enchanted by her, no matter how discreet he'd tried to be. Though he had never given a concrete reason for suspicious to rise; only asking the eldest Bennet sister for a single set at each dance and only visiting Longbourn when John himself went, it was his eyes that gave him away.
John had known the man long enough to see that Andrew, however guarded, only had eyes for Jane. Lydia's question was not a surprise to him at all, in that case. Whatever the truth behind the events that had caused her to break her leg those years ago, John knew from Lydia's own comments as well as Charlotte and Maria's that Lydia was fiercely protective of her sisters.
Running a hand over his face, John sighed. "Yes, he does," he finally answered.
Lydia studied him for a moment, watching him carefully as she assessed the weight and tone of his words. Finally, she nodded and gave a sigh of her own. "I suppose it was hopeless to want to keep all of us sisters together at Longbourn for another two years."
"Two years?"
"Yes," Lydia looked back up at him, a small smile teasing the corners of her mouth. "I told Jane that day when we went home to Longbourn that I had no intention of losing any of my sisters to matrimony until I was at least twelve."
The young girl rolled her eyes as John chuckled at her impertinence.
"Really!" she cried, "It isn't as if I had declared it out of the blue. If Mary was out in society I daresay she'd already be married as well!"
John tried hard to smother his laughter. It was amusing, to see a sister bemoaning the loss of her sister's company before the happy event had even begun to be widely anticipated. He knew in his heart, though, that Lydia's protests were only small, token things meant to give her sisters something to tease her about. He could see it in her eyes how excited she was for such felicity to befall her sisters, and it warmed his heart.
"Then I suppose," he chuckled, "that you are lucky Miss Bennet is yet the only sister out."
Sighing dramatically, Lydia shrugged. "I suppose." Her smile gave her away, however, and John only shook his head, still chuckling.
Celeritas pawed at the ground, and Lydia looked around again, giving a sigh that was more sincere than before. "I suppose soon we will have to stop these morning adventures."
Frowning, looking out at the forest, John agreed, "I suppose we will. The stables will be built by the time that I return home again." Glancing out of the corner of his eyes, he smiled, teasing, "Perhaps by then you will have found another spot for us to race. I would hate to think that Areion and Celeritas' rivalry would come to such an ignoble end."
Humor restored, Lydia smiled. "That is a challenge I shall strive to meet."
A particularly loud bird called from her nest, distracting them both for a moment.
In the ensuing quiet, Lydia's voice was barely audible. "I wish that Sophie was here."
John looked over at Lydia, his heart squeezing in his chest at the sorrow on her face.
Lydia shook her head. "I know that she is likely happy in Russia, being with her father, but I miss her so very much. She used to ride with me sometimes, you know. And Nikolai..." Lydia sighed, her expression twisted into an empathetic grimace. "He misses her so. Letters are not enough, I think. He becomes so...quiet sometimes, so unlike himself."
Without speaking, John nodded solemnly. He knew what she spoke of. Nikolai had always been a quiet sort, much like Fitzwilliam, but since his sister had left England's shores for the Continent, Nikolai's silence had taken on an edge of despair and loneliness, even a touch of anger after he'd learned of his mother's death.
Pushing her curls out of her face, Lydia said simply, "I just wish that Nikolai could see her again. That we all could."
"England is home to you," John found himself saying. "You, your sisters, Noah and Lady Pembroke...her brother is here too now." He shifted in his seat, feeling Lydia's piercing gaze as he finished, "I have no doubt that she will return."
As before, Lydia simply watched him for a moment, assessing the weight and tone of his words, descrying meaning. And then, she smiled that sunshine strong smile. "You are right, of course. She will come back, and everything will be wonderful again. In the meantime, there are always letters, which reminds me."
John followed her gaze towards the horizon, where the sun was fully over the trees now. They had tarried longer than usual this morning.
Turning Areion back towards Lucas Lodge, John gave her his customary goodbye. "Be careful, Lydia Bennet."
Lydia's smile was wide and bright as she laughed, giving her reply. "I am never careful, John Lucas."
As he always did, John watched as she and Celeritas took off, crossing the small hills and valleys that led back to Longbourn, until they disappeared near the horizon.
June 15, 1806
Netherfield
Netherfield was beautiful, so beautiful Jane felt like sighing in delight as she took in the decorations. She had been to one or two balls here at Netherfield, to say nothing of the dance lessons she had been taking for years in this very room, but there was something different about that night, though she did not wish to define it too clearly, for fear that it would not come true.
"Stand up straight," Mrs. Bennet hissed from her side, and Jane couldn't help the way she stiffened fiercely at her mother's unwelcome and all-too loud reprimand.
Mr. Bennet, as usual, said nothing, and Jane resisted the urge to sigh. How she wished the two of them would stop using her and her sisters in their war against one another, though she knew well that all such wishes were useless.
Finally, they came to the head of the receiving line, and Great Aunt Phoebe's eyes widened as she saw Mrs. Bennet's gown, dripping with unnecessary ribbons, flounces, and lace. Jane briefly met her aunt's eyes, and in that single moment, comfort was asked for and received.
As Jane and her parents greeted Great Aunt Phoebe, and Great Aunt Phoebe politely greeted the two of them in return, saving particular, quiet fondness for Jane, Jane had to resist the urge to look around.
She tried to tell herself she wasn't looking for a particular set of broad shoulders, a tall figure wearing a blue coat, warm brown eyes that blinded her to all else.
"I hope you will all enjoy the ball," Great Aunt Phoebe said, her voice yanking Jane back to the conversation at hand just in time for her to reply in kind, giving another polite curtsy.
Great Aunt Phoebe's eyes glittered with amusement as she met Jane's gaze, but she said nothing else and allowed them to move on into the ballroom.
Jane had to give her mother her due, they had arrived precisely when Mrs. Bennet had wanted them to, just as the orchestra was readying their instruments to begin the ball. All eyes turned to the latecomers, and Jane had to restrain herself from sighing as Mrs. Bennet preened beside her, completely unaware of the vicious titters Jane could see being made by the other ballgoers.
A man broke away from the crowd, and Jane was relieved to see that it was Nikolai. Ever since Jane's sixteenth birthday and her official coming out in Meryton, Noah and Nikolai had been vital to keeping away any growing expectations from the suitors that inevitably came knocking. One of them always danced the first set with her, and the other danced the last. Whenever they could not, the Long brothers seemed perfectly happy to perform the same duties with no more than a conspiratorial wink. Mr. Lucas, whenever he attended a social event, might claim her supper set if an unwanted suitor had been showing particular interest, such as Mr. Purvis had last season.
The biggest gossips in Meryton, fueled by Mrs. Bennet herself, often hinted that perhaps the men were competing for Jane's affections, but no one had any real basis for such anticipation. After all, each of these men danced every set, and never twice in the same night with any woman.
Nikolai bowed deeply before them, gracefully enduring Mrs. Bennet's loud giggling. "Miss Bennet," he began formally, "may I have this set?"
Mrs. Bennet brutally pinched Jane's side, hidden from all of the eyes on them in the ballroom. She knew that it was meant to be her mother's silent order to accept Nikolai's offer, but she hated how her mother pushed them all at the man Jane was sure would only ever be like a brother to her and her sisters.
Managing to keep her smile on her face, and not missing the minuscule narrowing of Nikolai's eyes nor the tightening of his jaw, Jane curtsied. "I would be honored, Prince Nikolai."
She took the hand Nikolai extended to her, and took comfort in the brotherly squeeze he gave her hand as he led her to the dancers waiting for the music to begin.
They moved easily with the other dancers once it did, and despite Nikolai's natural quiet, they shared all of the usual pleasant things for conversation for the first quarter of the happy dance. Jane again resisted the urge to search the faces among the crowd for one with strong, broad features, resisted the urge to listen for the rolling burr like boulders among the many voices in the room.
Nikolai's faint chuckle interrupted her musing, and she turned playful, narrowed eyes upon him. "And why do you laugh, sir?"
"I laugh because you are endearing, Miss Bennet," Nikolai said softly, far too softly for any of their neighboring dancers to hear him, and she was grateful.
Nikolai had seemed to master the art of holding a private conversation in a ballroom, and she had learned much from his example over the last two social seasons.
Jane watched as Nikolai discreetly checked that no one was paying them too much attention, though to any observer who knew him less than she did would think he was just observing the ball. He turned back to Jane, his face hidden from the crowd so that only Jane could see the fraternal concern there. "Did she hurt you?"
It was not often that Nikolai directly brought up the way that Mrs. Bennet behaved, nor the effect that her behavior had on the Bennet daughters. Jane was not entirely sure how long Nikolai had known about Mrs. Bennet's...more vicious side. Certainly since Lydia's leg had been broken, but she got the feeling he'd known longer than that.
Regardless, Nikolai's concern was welcome and comforting, and it made something inside of Jane relax. "It is naught but a bruise, Nikolai. I am alright."
Nikolai's eyes remained somewhat narrow as he looked at her before the tension in him finally cleared. They went back to the dance and finished the set in silence. Jane was grateful for Nikolai's easy company, his familiar and relaxing air. Mrs. Bennet's wish for one of the Bennet's to 'ensnare' the prince would never come to pass, Jane was sure, but she would never wish to trade their familiarity for romance.
Her partner bowed to her in return to her curtsy as the set ended, and Nikolai gallantly returned her to the crowd on the outskirts of the dancing, on the opposite side of the room from Mrs. Bennet's piercing laugh. Jane spent the next few dances flitting from partner to partner, laughing fondly at the way the eldest Long brother's eyes kept darting over to Miss Agnes Watson dancing further down the line.
Miss Watson had recently returned from a long stay in London with relatives, and a season in town had certainly given the previously shy girl the confidence she needed to shine. Jane privately wished the two of them felicity, knowing that Elizabeth would be glad to hear of Miss Watson's popularity. While they were not as close with her as they were with Charlotte or Maria or Sophie, Meryton was still a relatively small village, and all of the principal families knew one another.
Though she danced and talked and laughed, a quiet part of her heart began to despair. He has not come, she worried quietly to herself. Has his ship called him to war so soon? Her chest felt heavy at the thought.
"Miss Bennet," a low, rumbling burr came from behind her.
Jane's heart leaped in her chest. She turned, nearly gasping as she finally laid eyes on the man she had been trying not to think about all evening.
Lieutenant Ross was as handsome as ever in his dress uniform, the dark blue of his coat setting off the fairness of his skin, the candlelight glinting off of the copper in his hair, and his warm brown eyes never moved from hers.
Though he had been the one to seek her attention, upon finally seeing her this close after staying the course to avoid scrutiny from her mother (advice from his friends and greatly straining his personal longing for her company), he found that he could not speak. So taken was he by this beauty before him, though it wasn't necessarily the fair skin, golden hair, or the blue eyes. No, it was the emotion and personality visible in those sapphire depths, the kindness in the curve of her smile, the vulnerability, and yet, the strength of her posture.
Finally coming to his senses, Lieutenant Ross bowed, his heart beating hard in his chest as he watched her curtsy in return. "May I have the next set?"
"You may," Jane answered, only slightly breathlessly. This was the supper set. After it was over, Lieutenant Ross would escort her to supper, and they would be able to spend the entire meal together. She could not quite stifle the excitement inside of her as she reached out and accepted his hand.
A flash of memory overcame them both, unbeknownst to the other: a broad, rough, warm hand brushing over a small, soft, cool one. Though gloves separated their hands now, both secretly wished to feel that illicit brush of skin against skin once more as the lieutenant led Jane to the line of dancers.
Neither of them saw Mrs. Bennet's sharp stare from across the ballroom.
The dance began. For the first several minutes, they danced in silence, hardly able to look away from one another.
Eventually, Lieutenant Ross asked her, "And how are you this evening, Miss Bennet?"
Jane did not look away, her cheeks softly flushed. "Very well. And you?"
"I am very well, now that I am dancing with you," he said quietly, for only her ears to hear.
The flush on her cheeks deepened, and a soft smile spread over her face. They had spent many social events thus far spending small snatches of time together, and yet each time, the naval officer managed to make her heart swell with only a few words. Though his words were highly improper, Jane could not find it within herself to care.
Clearing her throat delicately, she asked, "Where were we? I believe last time we spoke, you were telling me about Scotland?"
Easily leading her through the graceful moments, Lieutenant Ross nodded, a tender glimmer in his eyes. "Yes. We were talking about the landscape."
Jane sighed wistfully. She had no great desire to travel the way that Lizzy or Lyddie might, but the way he talked about Scotland was wonderful. "Do you miss it? Your homeland?"
Those brown eyes found hers, and she sucked in a soft breath.
"I am home," he murmured.
The music continued, and though they danced, neither of them heard a single note.
June 21, 1806
Longbourn
It was far past the usual time members of the gentry fell asleep, and all of Longbourn was quiet, though if one listened carefully there were certain noises to be heard. Snores from the separate bedrooms the mistress and the master slept in, the crackle of fireplaces in all occupied rooms, Mr. and Mrs. Hill whispering about the ever declining stock of smelling salts in the house, and finally, the quiet patter of feet as they traveled to one of the upstairs bedrooms.
Lydia, always the last to join her sisters for these impromptu gatherings, finally came through the door, quietly locking it before joining her sisters on Jane and Lizzy's bed. "Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are asleep," she whispered, "snoring loud enough to wake the hounds in the stables."
Though they all tittered, Jane shook her head and chided them, "Be kind, all of you."
Lizzy sighed, shaking her head. "Oh, as usual, you remind us all you are the best of us."
Jane shook her head, feigning exasperation, but none of her sisters ignored the flush of happiness on Jane's face that came so often these days.
Mary, curled up with Kitty at the foot of the bed and tracing idle patterns on the bedclothes, asked, "You were downstairs late this morning, Lyddie, that's not like you."
The youngest Bennet froze where she had been climbing into bed. Biting her lip, she looked at her sister's curious but non judgemental faces. "I was late coming back this morning."
"Were you riding Celeritas again?" Jane asked, concern creasing her features. Horses were large beasts, and though she appreciated their aesthetics she would never be fond of the powerful creatures the way that Lydia was. They were too...huge and almost frightening.
Lydia rolled her eyes, but took Jane's hand and squeezed. "Yes, but as I have said, Celeritas is a good horse. He has not thrown me in all the years I've been riding him, and if he did throw me at this point I daresay I would certainly have to have done something to deserve it."
Kitty gasped, eyes going wide. "Pray do not say such a thing!"
Immediately Lydia's teasing expression dropped at her sister's cries of concern. "La, but I have upset you when I did not mean to. I apologize, Kitty, I truly do."
Shifting closer to Lydia on the bed, Kitty took Lydia's other hand just for a moment and squeezed, silently forgiving her sister.
For a moment, the bedroom was silent.
"When do you think we'll hear from Sophie again?" Mary asked, frowning down at the bedcovers.
The two eldest sisters exchanged worried glances.
"I am not sure," Lizzy answered quietly, "We must take comfort in the fact that in her last letter she wrote she was very well, and her father was the same."
Kitty sighed. "I wonder if she is to be married."
"Married?" her sisters asked in shock.
Looking up at them all, Kitty shrugged helplessly. "Why else would she be gone so long? Oh, I wish that if she were to marry, she would marry someone here in England, and then we might see her again."
Lizzy shook her head and tried to smile. "We may see her yet, Kitty, there is no need to despair."
Even Lizzy did not quite believe that, however. There was a quiet despair in each of the sister's hearts that they might never see their dear friend again.
Clearing her throat, Mary straightened her shoulders and asked, "Well. What did each of you do with your day?"
And thus their infrequent nightly meeting's typical path was set upon. Each sister took a turn sharing their focus of study for that day, whatever activites they had not done together. Though they were partners in almost all things, each sister had a special interest that was unique to her. Jane's embroidery, Lizzy's reading, Mary's playing, Kitty's drawing, and Lydia's mathematics studies.
Her sisters, Lydia noted with amusement, had unconsiously worked out a routine of teasing Lydia over which she liked better: horses or her math texts.
"Obviously," she said in the snootiest tone she could muster as she always did for her reply to these teases, "I prefer a horse who can do math."
The girls dissolved into giggles at the idea, ridiculous as it was, though after the same teasing comments and jokes performed together so many times, the laughter was mostly born out of happiness. They were together, they were very happy, and they were well loved by each other and by the parents of their hearts. All was well.
By the time the last descriptions of Kitty's frustrations over mastering watercolor were all told, the fire was burning low.
Each of the sisters was laid down on the bed, all of them facing one another, crowded together. None of them wanted to admit that even Lydia was getting to big to crowd together like this on a single bed. There were some things that, while they reluctantly understood could not last, that they wanted to last regardless.
Lizzy, toying with the end of Lydia's ribbon from where Jane had woven it around her hair to set it to curl properly, mused aloud, "The lumber sales for this year are already looking promising. Uncle Gardiner and Great Aunt Phoebe are shocked that I am getting the price I am for it, though I think it must have something to do with the rise of lumber needed to make ships. I think all but one shipment set to go out is destined for a shipyard."
Jane's smile waned, thoughts of ships inevitably turning to one such vessel destined to take something away from her. Far, far away to a war where she might never get him back.
A small hand squeezed her own, and Jane's gaze lifted to meet Mary's.
"You need not be worried, dear Jane," Mary said seriously, grey eyes like velvet in the fading firelight. "He will not leave without your hand, I am sure of it."
Jane swallowed around the rising hope in her chest. All of her sisters were shocked when she did not take her usual route of denying her feelings for the sailor, even if he had gone unnamed.
Instead, she whispered, "The summer grows short. His days here are numbered, and I am not sure he feels that we have spent the time together necessary to offer for me. What if I have not captured his interest?"
Lizzy's eyes were wide and fierce. "I forbid you to think so lowly of yourself, or indeed of him! He is a fine man, and a true gentleman. You know that Nikolai has told us all of how the lieutenant wishes he could court you more openly, but he cannot risk Mrs. Bennet's wrath."
Mary nodded sadly. "She would feel it an imposition, trying to claim your hand when she believes only time stands between you becoming a princess, even in name only."
"No," Jane said firmly, though it was softened by her wan smile. "Nikolai is as good as a brother to us, and I do not repine the fact that he will not offer for my hand."
Lizzy's heart hurt as she thought of Jane's happy eyes, of tender smiles, of the rough hands she knew would care for her sister better than any other pair. Was it selfish, to be reluctant to part with such a dear sister, though her heart did rejoice at knowing she was to be lost to a good, honest man who would cherish her for her beautiful heart and not only her lovely face?
"Do you love him?" Lydia asked brightly, not listening when Mary and Lizzy chided her boldness.
Jane, though, Jane was a picture of surprise, staring at Lydia's expectant expression.
And then, like the sun rising, a broad, happy smile came over Jane's face. Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and she sighed, soft and content. "Yes," she said, beaming golden like the sun. "I do."
A/N: I don't know about any of you, but I personally am swooning over Andrew...I just love him!