Mrs. Darcy was a social woman. She loved dancing while they were in London for the season, she loved to host her neighbors for tea and she loved it when the whole family gathered at Pemberley for Christmas. One of the only days she loved to spent only with her husband was her anniversary. It was a day where they exchanged happy memories, delighted in the their children and went for long, secluded walks in the park.

But this year it would be different. Mrs. Darcys sister Mrs. Bingley had decided to host a big party for their joined day and Mrs. Darcy had no other choice than to go along with Mrs. Bingleys plans. It was not that she dreaded the idea completely. It was just that she did not think it a good idea, not after everything that had happened in the last year.

But as Mrs. Darcy did not see it fit to argue with her sister more than necessary, she had complied to her plans and even offered to host their parents at Pemberley, to spare Mrs. Bingley some stress. Mister and Misses Bennet had arrived two weeks prior. With them had come their only unmarried daughter Mary.

Mrs. Darcy saw with alarm how solemn the only remaining Miss Bennet had grown. It was true, that Mary had never been a particularly enthusiastic or optimistic person, but this new stale mood was something new to witness. Instandly Mrs. Darcy wondered if the celebration of the married state was too much for Mary, who had stayed a spinster all this time. But then Mary had always seemed so content, being the only one at home. She had her books and her piano and now at 37 years of age there was really nothing to trouble herself with anymore, all chances she could have taken were long lost. So Mrs. Darcy pushed thoughts about her sister in the back of her mind and focused on the daily duties as mistress of Pemberley again.

And there were many duties. She managed the household and the servants, conferred with her housekeeper daily, brought baskets of food to the poor, planned the gardens and took care of her family.

Her oldest son Arthur currently lived away from home. He was in Eton and would come home again for Christmas. While Mrs. Darcy missed her firstborn a lot, she was very proud of him and his success at school. At only sixteen years of age, Arthur was the best horsemen Eton had seen in decades while never been loosing track of his academic goals.

Her daugters thankfully were still at home.

Little Juno had turned three this June and all what a little girl should be. She loved to play with her dolls, giggle when her father made silly faces at her and run around with her long brown curls bouncing around her little face.

Imogen had inherited her Aunt Georgianas musical talent and for her thirteen years she was quite the proficient at the piano and harp. But while her harp playing was beautiful, it was never heard for a long time at Pemberley. Imogen preferred the energetic music she could get out of the piano and was often found trying out new melodies, playing faster and faster, until her fingers where so tired in the evening she even had problems holding up her spoon for supper properly.

Mrs. Darcy was currently standing in the door to the music room and listening to Imogen play. It was one of the rare days she was sitting at the harp, playing along dreamily, but maybe a bit too melancholic for her mothers liking.

„She should play the harp more often. She plays truly well.", Mrs. Darcy turned around startled. She had not seen Mary coming. She smiled at her sister, it was not often Mary had directly commented on something during her stay.

„Thank you, Mary. I am sure Imogen would love to her your praise. She truly plays well, but well, she prefers the piano most of the time. Her feelings always go so deep, it gives her more opportunity to let them out."

„What has brought the change then, today?"

„I do not profess to know exactly. But today came some letters from Eton so I am sure it has something to do with that. She misses him terribly.", Mrs. Darcy sighed. The boys leaving had not been easy for her little tomboyish girl.

„I had not known Imogen was so attached to her brother.", Marys faced looked so grim Mrs. Darcy really wondered what her motives behind this conversation were.

„It is not Arthurs absence that is troubling Imogen, Mary. While my children love each other deeply, they are more than happy to be away from each other from time to time.", Mrs. Darcy chuckled: „But Janes son Andrew has left with Arthur and his absence touches Imogen a lot. They are so close, these two. If I had not given birth to her myself, I would surely doubt that she and Andrew were not long lost twins. If he only suffers half as much at Eton for being away from her, he will soon be the laughingstock for all the other boys."

„What do children like yours know about suffering?", Mary almost whispered it, not looking at Mrs. Darcy but in the room, where Imogen had now changed to the piano.

Mrs. Darcy took her sisters arm. It really seemed like she had put off this conversation too long: „Come, let us go into the library, Mary. We should talk and I think we both prefer the comforts of the library to the halls and Imogens loud playing."

When they had come into the library, Mary settled into an armchair, not looking at her. Mrs. Darcy almost started pacing in front of the fire place, a habit she had taken over from her husband. But it was not be done. She had to find the right words for her little sister, had to properly talk to her. Something they had not done in years.

„We are all very happy to have you and Mama and Papa here, Mary. And I hope you are also happy with your stay at Pemberley. But sadly it seems like you are cross with us, or with something we did. Please, if it is something I did let me know. Or do you maybe not want celebrate the anniversary tomorrow? I am sure Jane would excuse you if you decide to stay here."

„Why should I not want to come to the party tomorrow?", Mary looked confused at her.

„Well, I just thought that maybe you don't want to celebrate mine and Janes marriage, while you"

„God Elizabeth, that is so typical for you", Mary interrupted her. „Do you really think this is about you and Jane again? This is not about you or your precious Mister Darcy, perfect house and darling little children.", Mary voice dripped with sarcasm and Mrs. Darcy had to do her best not to get offended at her sisters words.

No, she had to see past this and find out what troubled Mary so deeply: „Then tell me what it is, Mary. Tomorrow will be exhausting enough for all of us, I do not want us to fight, please."

Mary did not answer for some time. She did not look at her sister or at anything else in the room. When Mrs. Darcy was close to leaving the room frustrated, she started to speak: „It is the house. It is Longbourn."

„Whatever is the matter with Longbourn? If Papa has trouble with one of tenants I can ask Fitzwilliam to look into it."

„Everything is fine with the tenants. It is just - our parents think of giving up Longbourn to the Collinses.", a tear began to roll down Marys pale cheek.

„Why ever would they do that?"

„Papa says it is too big for us, has been to big for us for some time now. With all of you gone it is so empty. And the stairs have started to trouble Mama. Papa thinks of offering Mister Collins the opportunity to move in now and give us 500 pound a year for rent. Together with Mamas money Papa could rent a comfortable cottage."

Mrs. Darcy went over the idea in her head. It sounded like a good plan. Just the other night she and Fitzwilliam had talked about her parents and had found Longbourn and all its responsibilities too much for the aging couple. After all, Papa had turned 65 in summer! And Charlotte Collins had long ago said that the Husford Parsonage was quite small for a family of six.

„It sounds like a sensible idea to me, Mary. Why does it upset you so?"

„Of course it sounds like a sensible idea to you, Elizabeth. It will sound like a sensible idea to all you. Jane has her home at Gingerfield, you have Pemberley, Kitty is away in Cornwall and Lydia, no matter how miserable she may be, has found her home in Newcastle. I am the only one left, Longbourn is my only home.", Mary was outrightly crying now and Mrs. Darcy embraced her trembling sister.

„Now, now Mary. You know that all of our houses will also be your home, if you choose so. And Longbourn will not be lost to you. I am sure you can visit with Charlotte often."

„Yeah with Misses Charlotte Collins. The one that took Longborn away from us.", Mary muffled it into her shoulder, but Mrs. Darcy had heard her perfectly well.

„Mary Bennet, you know fully well that Charlotte took nothing from us. I refused Mister Collins very soundly and he had every right to offer to someone else. I understand how you could be angry at Mister Collins for the entail is truly not fair to any of us, but do not be angry at Charlotte. She has always been a good friend to all of us.", Mrs. Darcy said it with resolve.

„She has been a good friend to you and Jane. Did you never stop to think that he might have offered for someone else if Charlotte had not drawn him in?", Mary looked at her with a tear strained face. She looked almost exactly like the shy, awkward girl she had been eighteen years before.

And suddenly everything made sense to Mrs. Darcy. Why Mary had been so upset about her declining Mister Collins offer. It had not been anger about her refusal, it had been anger about the offer itself. Why Mary had looked so distant when Mrs. Darcy had read one of Charlottes letters aloud. It had not been disinterest, but sadness over the life she did not get to have. Why Mary had never visited Hunsford even after Charlotte had invited her the third time in a row.

Mrs. Darcys heart hurt for her sister. She would have liked to say something, something funny and witty like she normally did to ease the tension. But that would do nothing for Mary. So Mrs. Darcy just hugged her sister tightly and let her cry, ensuring her with soft words that everything would be alright eventually.

—

Imogen Darcy was not sure why Aunt Mary had decided to stay home from the party. She could have asked Mama about it, but in all the hectic trouble about getting dressed, having her hair done by Mamas maid and deciding if she should wear her pearls or the gold cross, she had simply forgotten about it.

Now Imogen was sitting in the carriage with her grandparents and would only see her Mama at the ball again, where there would be no time for asking about her strange Aunt. Maybe she would ask Mama tomorrow, Imogen resolved and sighted happily. She was so excited to go the ball.

It would be the first ball Imogen was allowed to attend. Till now she had always stayed home with little Juno and Miss Sally while her parents went out. But this ball was more like a family party, so Mama had said they would all go. Even Juno was allowed to come, which hampered Imogens excitement a bit.

„Now did you remember to bring the most important thing for a ball tonight?", her grandfather asked and Imogen looked at him confused. „Why Grandpa? What is there to be brought? There are no dance cards tonight."

Her grandfather chuckled: „I am not talking about dance cards, Ginny. I am talking about a good book. Sometimes these balls can be dreadfully boring and conversation terribly dull so it is always good to bring something good to read with you if you are forced to attend. I am appalled your Mama did not teach you that.", he reached into his pocket and got out two books and gave one of them to her, careful to not show the title to his wife.

„What nonsense are you talking again, Mister Bennet? Books? Imogen will enjoy herself a lot tonight, after all she is a girl and there will be a ball. All my daughters enjoy balls so their daughters will too.", Imogen looked at her grandmother. She was dressed in a bold purple gown and with feathers in her gray hair. Then she glanced at the book in her lap, not daring to turn it around.

When they carriage arrived at Gingerfield and Grandma was handed out, she quickly turned it around and promptly hid it in her pompadour. Grandfather was truly the best. It was a new novel by Honore de Balzac, whose works Papa and Mama always said were to grown up for her to read.

But Grandpa always said there was no right age for books as long as one loves to read.

Even with the book tempting her the whole night, Imogen had no time for reading. Firstly she joined the dances with Grandfather and little Juno, than she hid between some curtains and watched her cousin Rose making eyes at the young neighbors son. If Andrew, Roses little brother, had been here, they would have had quite a laugh at seeing these two together. She had to remember everything to write him tomorrow.

While she wanted to write him all about his sister, she was not sure what to write about his brother. Aunt Jane was looking very beautiful in her pale dress but she also looked even thinner than last week. In summer she had given birth to a blue little baby, that died just some hours later. Since that day, she had not been the same and lost more weight than she should.

Andrew worried so much about his mother already. And he felt so bad for being away at Eton why she was still suffering. Imogen would only write him how beautiful Aunt Jane looked and how wonderful the party had been.

And how much she missed him herself and could not wait to have him home again for Christmas.

Mrs. Darcy had enjoyed the night. She had danced three dances with her husband, had loved the music, laughed with the neighborhood-ladies and devoured the fine supper. Now the night was drawing to an end and she was resolved to speak with Mrs. Bingley, even if only for a few minutes.

The sisters were standing on the balcony together, looking into the cloudless sky. Mrs. Bingley shivered slightly, so Mrs. Darcy wrapped her arm around her thin sister: „Are you fine, Janey? You look like you are starving again."

„I do not know, Lizzy. I so wanted this party to be happy. I thought it would shake of the hurt. But it did not.", Mrs. Bingley whispered.

„Oh Jane…You are allowed to suffer though this. Lilies death was hard for you and Charles. But you have to think of the children you already have. Rose and Andrew need their mother to be healthy. Why don't we go inside and get you some of the wonderful soup? And tomorrow you all come and have dinner with us, your servants will be busy with cleaning anyways."

—-

Arm in arm the two women went inside. When Imogen saw her Mama with Aunt Jane a bright smile went over her face. Mama would make it all alright again, she always did.

—

Now I first wanted to focus a bit more on Imogen and Andrew, but Mrs. Darcy and Mary clearly had another idea for this chapter :D I hope you all liked it anyways! Please tell me what you think, if you think anyone acted out of character or want the focus to be more on Jane and Bingley etc. :)