Longbourn
Aaron peered with interest at the mansion of Longbourn as his horse followed his brother Edward's steed down the long main drive which led to the stables. His eyes wandered thoughtfully across the house, taking in the well-maintained red brick and the neat ivy climbing across it. Many of the several chimneys across the house, including the servants' quarters, were trickling smoke into the thin, clear air – so apparently the Bennets were not parsimonious with their wood.
Behind the house, the stables themselves were equally impressive. Modern and sturdy, with a plethora of grooms and boys milling about in the yard and visible through the warmly-glowing windows. A tall man stepped forward out of the throng, touching his forelock. "Mr. Gardiner," he said respectfully.
"Jackson," Edward greeted in return, dismounting and handing his horse off to the man before turning towards his brother. "Jackson, the stable master," he introduced. "Jackson, this is my brother Aaron Gardiner."
The stable master tugged his forelock again and took Aaron's horse as well. "I'll take care of 'im, sir," he promised, eyeing the gelding keenly. "We've combs and water and mash a-plenty."
Aaron inclined his head and moved with Edward towards the house.
The two brothers entered the mansion through the front door, where the butler greeted Edward Gardiner with obvious approval and Aaron, once his name was mentioned, with a flicker of surprise. The butler guided the two men down a corridor, opened the door to the drawing room, stepped within, and announced, "Mr. Edward Gardiner, Mr. Aaron Gardiner."
Aaron followed his brother within and cast an expert eye around the chamber, which was lavishly inhabited by furniture, much of it in the Sheraton style. A moment later, his gaze shifted to the oldest of the three ladies seated on the couches near the crackling fire, and to his surprise, he found his throat clogged with emotion. When he had left England's shores so many years ago, his sister Frances had been but fifteen years of age. Now she was a middle aged matron, the mother of five nearly grown daughters, but in that moment, he could see the little sister who had followed him around like a puppy when he was not yet out of his teens…
"Aaron!" Mrs. Bennet cried out, leaping to her feet, her blue eyes flared wide with incredulity. "It … it cannot be! Is it truly you?"
"It is," he rasped through the tightness in his throat. "Oh, Fanny, it has been so long!"
Elizabeth Bennet had been enjoyably employed in reading a book from the circulating library when the door opened and her favorite uncle, Edward Gardiner, stepped into the room with an unknown man at his heels. Within a minute, the man was no longer unknown; he was, in fact, a long lost uncle, who had migrated to the ends of the earth decades previously.
"Oh Aaron! Aaron!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "Jane, Jane, I need my smelling salts. To think of seeing you again. Oh, Aaron!"
Not surprisingly, the shrieking of the lady of the manor brought not just Mrs. Bennet's personal maid, but the lady's husband and three younger daughters as well. In the midst of the explanations and introductions, Elizabeth inspected her newly arrived uncle. The elder Mr. Gardiner was of average height and rather thin, with blue eyes like her mother and dark hair like her other uncle Gardiner. His skin was darker than her own, no doubt due to time in the sun during his long sojourn in India. His expression was friendly, his manners easygoing and pleasant, and his speech of interest.
She quite thought she would like her newfound uncle.
/
A Few Hours Later
"Are you quite certain you do not wish for me to come along, Aaron?" Mrs. Bennet asked worriedly. "Emma will be quite shocked, and perhaps if I were along, it would be easier for her."
"I would like to see Emma as quickly as possible," Aaron said with a smile at his younger sister, "and I know you need to prepare for the arrival of Edward's family on the morrow. Do not be concerned, Sister."
"Oh, very well," Fanny Bennet said. "Now mind you, we keep country hours, and I depend on your returning in good time for dinner!"
"We will, Mamma," Elizabeth assured the lady of the house.
Kitty and Lydia erupted into the vestibule at this juncture, and Kitty cried out, "Mamma, tell Lydia to give me back my pink rosettes! They are mine, not hers!"
"I want them for my new hat, which I will wear with my new gown!" Lydia exclaimed. "You have not used them, after all…"
"They are mine!" Kitty shrieked. "It is not fair…"
"Lydia," Jane said gently, "I have some yellow rosettes in my room that I would be glad to give you for your hat. Would they not look far better than pink given that your dress is green? What do you think, Mamma?"
"Oh yes, Lydia, yes! Pink rosettes would not match that green! It would look dreadful…"
In the midst of this discussion of dresses and millinery, Elizabeth, Mary, and Aaron Gardiner donned their outerwear, hurried out the front door, and climbed aboard the Bennet carriage.
Aaron could see that both Elizabeth and Mary were embarrassed by the scene he had just witnessed, which was no surprise; as Edward had warned, Lydia and Kitty were both rambunctious and ill-behaved, and Lydia in particular was selfish and greedy. However, there was nothing his nieces could do about that, so he made a point of introducing a neutral topic as the carriage turned onto the road that would lead to Meryton.
"I confess that it is surprising how little the countryside has changed since I last was here," he said, gazing out the window.
"I fear it is not the most beautiful time of the year," Elizabeth replied. "I prefer spring and summer and autumn more."
"I like winter," Mary said rather unexpectedly. "I like being indoors and enjoying warm fires and not being required to go out in company quite so often. I even like when we have snowstorms; it is so beautiful outside. "
"I was very much like you when I was younger, Elizabeth," Aaron said, and then smiled at Mary. "But now, after decades in India, I find myself thoroughly in awe of chilly air, snowflakes and ice."
"Oh, Uncle, please do tell us about your time in India!" Elizabeth requested. "I have read a little about tropical lands, but that is not quite the same as hearing from someone who has actually lived in such an exotic locale."
Aaron responded with a few stories about life in India, though he largely confined himself to descriptions of the flora, fauna, and geography; his family situation was complex, and he was not yet ready to share all with his relations.
Before he knew it, the carriage had come to a halt in front of a wooden house where his sister Emma and her husband now lived. He found himself tearing up again as he descended to the ground and walked up to the steps. His welcome by Emma was similar to that of Fanny, except that Emma did not call for smelling salts, though she was obviously overjoyed to see him again for the first time in decades.
/
"Oh Aaron, I had forgotten about your unfortunate experience with Daisy!" Emma Phillips exclaimed, her plain face alight with joy. "You were very fortunate not to break a leg!"
"It was my fault, not hers," Aaron said with a grin. "I was a fool to mount a young, spirited horse like her. Father was rightfully angry at me."
Elizabeth, who had thoroughly enjoyed listening to stories of the Gardiner children's childhood, was reluctant to interrupt, but the time was growing late. "We will need to leave soon, Uncle Gardiner, so that we are home in time for dinner."
"Of course, Elizabeth. Emma, it was, of course, wonderful seeing you again. Give my respects to your husband, and I trust we will see one another soon."
"Oh, yes, Arthur will be overjoyed to hear of your return to England's shores. I am certain we will visit Longbourn soon, and we can speak more of the past."
Aaron nodded, smiled, kissed his sister, and then accompanied his nieces out of the door. He found it interesting that Emma, who had married a solicitor instead of a gentleman, seemed more content than Fanny, whose husband was far wealthier.
"Uncle?" Mary asked shyly once they descended the stairs which led to the street, where the Bennet carriage was waiting.
"Yes?"
"Would you be willing to stop for a few minutes at the bookstore? The proprietor sells music scores as well, and I have one waiting for me."
"Of course!" Aaron said enthusiastically. "That is, of course, as long as we are not over late for dinner."
"We can stop for ten minutes," Elizabeth said after consulting her watch. "No more!"
A smile transformed Mary's usually serious face. "I do not think that I am the one that needs that reminder, Lizzy."
Elizabeth laughed at this and she admitted, "I am very fond of the library and bookstore, Uncle, and often have to be dragged out by my sisters."
"I am fond of a good book as well," Aaron said warmly, and gave the coachman the requisite orders, whereupon he handed his nieces into the vehicle and followed them within.
Two minutes later, the carriage came to a halt. Uncle and nieces descended into the chilly afternoon air and made their way hastily into a building which served as both bookstore and circulating library.
Aaron opened the door for the girls, waited for them to enter, followed them inside, and then halted with pleasure. The room was both airy and cozy, with books lining the walls on honey-colored wooden shelves. A fire roared within a generous fireplace, and sunlight poured in through expansive windows to splash along the green carpet. Elizabeth barely waited to return the greeting of Mr. Wells, the proprietor, before heading purposefully for the circulating library at one end. As Mary moved to the desk to speak with Mr. Wells, Aaron made his way to a rack of musical scores.
Aaron inspected the sheet music with pleasure, impressed with the range and scope of music available for those with sufficient funds. It was both surprising and enjoyable to observe such a variety here in a shop in a small village.
"Do your daughters play, Uncle?" inquired a timid voice from his right. Aaron turned and smiled down on Mary, who was clutching a piece of sheet music in one gloved hand.
"No, but my eldest son, Philip, enjoys playing very much."
He was not surprised at the look of amazement in Mary Bennet's eyes, as here in England, it was not common for a gentleman to devote himself to learning to play instruments; that was considered more the purview of the ladies.
"Oh! How ... interesting," his niece finally managed. "Does my cousin play well?"
Aaron Gardiner glanced out the window toward the west, where the sun was now glowing pink and orange a little above the horizon.
"Yes," he said. "Philip plays very well indeed."
/
The Hursts' Home
London
"Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy, Charles!" Caroline Bingley gushed. "Oh, how wonderful to see you all on this chilly evening. Please do come into the drawing room to warm yourself by the fire!"
Darcy nodded, and with his sister's arm in his own, followed Caroline Bingley down the hall and into the drawing room of the house, where his hosts, Frederick and Louisa Hurst, were waiting.
Darcy glanced around as they passed through the door; a blazing fire highlighted the dinginess of the room, rather than disguising it. The curtains were faded and hung limply above worn rugs laid across an unpolished floor and furniture that had seen better days. A gust of wind blustered around the eaves and set a window rattling.
In contrast to the unprepossessing setting, both Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst glimmered in their finery, decked out in frills and furbelows and fine fabrics. Darcy knew from experience that the dinner itself would be equally fine: Mr. Hurst employed a cook of surpassing skill and expense.
In Darcy's opinion, the money that sank into plumes and jewels and silks and puddings and exotic glazes on meats would be better put towards maintaining the house.
"Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Hurst, rising to her feet and curtseying. "It is so good to see you both."
Darcy bowed and Georgiana curtseyed, and the ladies took their places on several uncomfortable looking chairs near the fire, where Caroline picked up her needlework and began working on it again, while Louisa Hurst seemed content to stare into the fire.
"Brandy, Darcy, Bingley?" Hurst asked, rising to his feet and shambling over to a decanter on a nearby side table.
"Thank you, yes," Darcy said, and Bingley murmured his own agreement.
"Miss Darcy," Miss Bingley said, her lips parted to show her gleaming white teeth, "pray believe me when I say that I am raptures with your design of the table. It is infinitely superior to that of Miss Grantley's."
"Thank you, Miss Bingley," Georgiana answered softly. "Your needlework is lovely."
"Oh, that is too kind, Miss Darcy! Yes, I do flatter myself that I am quite adept, but then so are you! Indeed, you are quite the most accomplished young lady of my acquaintance."
Georgiana blushed at these words and cast an uneasy look at her brother, who smiled at her reassuringly. Miss Bingley was, as usual, overly flattering of the girl, but Georgiana would need to become accustomed to such ingratiating remarks. In a few short years, the only daughter of Pemberley would enter society, and given Georgiana's accomplishments, her connections, and her substantial dowry, she would be the target of numerous compliments from impecunious gentlemen in search of a rich wife, along with their eager mothers and sisters.
"Do you intend to stay in London for the season, Miss Darcy?" Caroline asked, her fingers working busily. "Or will you, perhaps, be returning to Pemberley?"
"That depends on what my brother wishes," Miss Darcy said. "I confess that I long for Pemberley, though Town has its pleasures and amusements too."
"Indeed, Pemberley is utterly marvelous!" Miss Bingley exclaimed. "Indeed, I do hope that Charles will find an estate in Derbyshire like Pemberley."
Georgiana frowned at this and said innocently, "I understood that Mr. Bingley had leased an estate in Hertfordshire, Miss Bingley. Was it a disappointment to you?"
Caroline's lips thinned at these words and she raised her eyes heavenward and said, "The house and lands were well enough, I suppose, but the society – oh, it was quite dreadful, Miss Darcy! Vulgar matrons, and gauche girls who chased officers. The so called gentry were country bumpkins. I was never so happy as when we returned to Town!"
Fitzwilliam Darcy, who had been sipping his brandy, happened to glance at his friend Bingley at this juncture, and his heart twisted within him. Bingley was staring at the floor, his lips set in a thin line, with a deep cleft between his eyebrows. His poor friend had fallen in love with a blonde goddess, Miss Jane Bennet, while in Hertfordshire, and based on his demeanor, had not yet entirely recovered. Darcy, too, had been strangely affected by Miss Bennet's next younger sister, an enticing, tantalizing young lady by the name of Elizabeth.
The two eldest Misses Bennet, while intelligent, handsome, and well mannered, were burdened with a vulgar mother with ties to trade and two younger sisters who continually behaved in a reckless, audacious, and insolent way. Miss Elizabeth was not remotely worthy of the hand of a Darcy, and the object of Bingley's affections, Miss Bennet, was not truly in love with his friend. Since the Bennet estate of Longbourn was entailed to a distant relation, all the Bennet daughters were seeking a wealthy husband.
"As for Miss Eliza Bennet," Caroline Bingley brayed, her loud voice penetrating his consciousness, "well, Miss Darcy, you would be quite horrified! When her elder sister fell ill and was required to stay at Netherfield, nothing would do for Miss Elizabeth but to march three miles across muddy fields, entirely unaccompanied. It showed a most abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country town indifference to decorum."
Darcy's breath hitched as his mind, quite contrary to reason, immediately formed an image of Miss Elizabeth, her beautiful eyes brightened by exercise, her luscious chestnut curls twisted and tumbled from her march across fields and over stiles to Netherfield, where the girl had shown devoted, tender care to her sister, who was indeed unwell.
Darcy was very thankful that they had returned to Town, away from the magnetic pull of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.