Disclaimer: I don't own Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, or any of the associated characters.
Summary: See Previous Chapter
Chapter One
Longbourn, March 1813...
It was odd, to be only four girls at Longbourn, rather than five, but that did not make the change a bad one.
They might have been three, but Georgiana had petitioned her brother and Lydia's parents to remain at Longbourn while the two new couples were on their wedding trip, before Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam made their annual visit to Rosings. Mama, either missing her elder daughters, feeling the prestige of having an Earl's niece under her roof, or wanting to make a favorable impression in order to be invited to visit Pemberley at some later date, had heartily agreed.
Georgiana had been given the benefit of Music Masters, and could often be found sharing the pianoforte with Mary, demonstrating the more complicated pieces that Mary had tried to learn out of books, with limited success. Kitty and Lydia would share the music room, drawing or sewing. Kitty and Georgiana had taken to debating books, and while Mary was more inclined to scholarly texts than novels, she had stopped scoffing every time they were brought up. Lydia considered that an improvement, and Georgiana knew enough Italian to understand some of the more popular Operas, while Lydia had been looking for someone to practice languages with for some time.
One lazy afternoon, as Mary was pouring tea before a planned walk to Meryton, Georgiana asked the question that she had clearly been wondering for some time. "What drew you to languages, Lydia?"
Lydia waved an expressive hand. "When I was younger, I heard that the best novels were written in French, and the Royal family was doing their best to make German fashionable. I found that I enjoyed them, and it's proven useful a time or two."
Georgiana made a thoughtful sound, offering the tray of fancies to Kitty. "I mostly learned the basics to expand my music choices. Fitzwilliam brought back music and songs from his Grand Tour, but I didn't know how to pronounce the words, and it kept tripping me up when I read the music."
Languages were difficult, and filled with hidden traps. "It's worse when you don't have anyone to practice with. I spent three years pronouncing half my French words wrong, before I managed to find a primer that included a pronunciation guide."
A sound of amusement came from the doorway, where a slightly disgruntled footman had been about to announce Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Several of the Commissioned Officers speak French, and they are always affronted when they discover that regional accents exist and what has become colloquially termed 'Eton French' is distinguished mainly by being overcharged for everything."
Why would... oh. "Because anyone who can afford that level of education probably has enough money that they won't question a shilling - or whatever the French equivalent is, I know they use francs rather than pounds, but I'm unsure of the smaller coinage - being added to a quoted price?"
The Colonel winked. "Precisely. Now, I believe you ladies wished to walk to Meryton this afternoon?"
The three miles to Meryton was not a hard walk, even if they were not as enthusiastic about the exercise as Lizzy. Kitty walked with Georgiana, and Lydia happily took the Colonel's arm, while Mary walked alone, pointedly keeping an eye on both pairs. At least she was more subtle in her silent teasing than Lizzy would have been.
The habitual visit to the Milliner's was accomplished with relative speed, or as much speed as could be managed, with three young ladies all seeking different things. Georgiana had not packed more than basic supplies for sewing when she and Colonel Fitzwilliam joined Mr Darcy in Hertfordshire, and did not wish to be forever borrowing from her hostesses, Lydia's old bonnet had fallen victim to a gust of wind and a particularly thorny berry bush, and Kitty needed new shoe roses. Even Colonel Fitzwilliam purchased some needle and thread, waving off their questioning looks. "Technically, it's my Batman's job to keep my uniform in good repair, but batmen get injured as easily as any other soldier, and a good tailor cannot always be relied upon to be at hand, especially on the front lines."
A wife might be relied upon for such things, but Colonel Fitzwilliam was unmarried. It was a sensible outlook, no matter how scandalized the Milliner appeared. Colonel Fitzwilliam sneakily paid for all their purchases while Lydia was still reaching for her reticule, and cheerfully ignored all protests on the subject.
Next on their agenda was a visit Aunt Phillips, who always had a welcome for her nieces and Officers, and certainly for both at once. It turned out to be good timing, because Colonel and Mrs Forster were just about to take their leave. "Ah, what fortunate timing!"
Aunt Phillips pulled the bell to call for another round of tea, likely anticipating the opportunity to have her Militia guests stay longer. "The Colonel and his wife were just calling to apologize for having to decline the invitation to my card party, next Wednesday."
Mrs Forster, who was somewhere in age between Kitty and Mary, was happy to elaborate. "The Militia received orders for our next posting, and there is ever so much to be done before we move to Brighton."
Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded sagely, "I am familiar with the process. At least you are in friendly territory, and don't need to send out scouts at every stage to avoid unexpected skirmishes with the enemy."
Colonel Forster lifted his teacup in a silent toast. "There is certainly that. I am afraid we must depart; I need to get a list from the merchants of what accounts are yet to be paid. Unlike some regiments, I prefer not to leave unpaid debts and ill will behind me when I decamp."
Mrs Forster looked at her husband adoringly. "It's a very wise mindset. Should another regiment winter here, they will not be met with hostility and lingering resentment on our behalf. My dear Colonel even told me of one town that refused credit to anyone in a red coat, and demanded the lease of the fields where they camped be paid in full and in advance, because of their experience with the regiment that came before him!"
Aunt Phillips gasped obligingly, in the hopes of hearing more such stories, but was doomed to disappointment, as the Colonel could not be persuaded to extend his visit. The lady was consoled by the presence of her other visitors, and the rest of the afternoon passed in good company, before it was time to return to Longbourn for dinner.
Starting up the road from Meryton to Longbourn, Lydia tilted her head thoughtfully. "I believe our sisters are currently in Bath. That is only a day's travel from Brighton, is it not?"
Colonel Fitzwilliam paused, adopting the distant expression that Georgiana had claimed was him calculating in his head. "With good roads and the opportunity to change horses, yes. Are you suggesting that they extend their wedding trip a little longer? Perhaps with a detour to Brighton?"
It did seem to be the obvious move, and if Mr Wickham was to be dealt with for his assortment of mundane and supernatural crimes, it would be better to do so before he could vanish again. "If the process of moving a regiment is as complex as you suggest, Wickham will have no better opportunity to slip away or cause trouble, and Brighton does not yet know to be wary of him, as we do."
Kitty and Georgiana were walking ahead, out of hearing range and lost in their own conversation, but Mary was listening quietly. "I'll send an express. Jane says that Mr Bingley is rather more wary of travel, now that he knows of the things he attracts by his mere presence, but she and Lizzy agree that he is adjusting well."
Poor Mr Bingley; Lydia could hardly imagine being forced to turn on her loved ones, nothing more than a passenger in his own body. Lydia had been only five when she first gained powers, but she'd had the support and guidance of her older sisters. "It can be no easy thing, I suppose, having all you know of the world turned on it's head. In a number of ways, I consider myself fortunate to have been exposed so young. I scarcely knew anything else."
Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed, somewhat ruefully. "Darcy and I were busy hoping that we wouldn't be expelled or sent down. It's a shame that Wickham turned his gift to self-interest and greed, after charming us out of trouble that day."
There was nothing to say to that that would not sound hollow. "Mary speculates that powers are gifted by necessity, by those most able to slip away at need. Perhaps Mr Wickham was meant to be your third, but when he turned, Georgiana was raised up in his stead."
Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced back over his shoulder at Mary. "Should you ever travel to London, Miss Bennet, I should like to introduce you to some scholars of my acquaintance. I believe it would be most enlightening all around."
Mary was cautious when it came to scholars, with good reasons that Colonel Fitzwilliam would probably not have even thought of. "If they can stand the concept of a well-educated woman who will debate, rather than smiling and agreeing with them, I would be delighted."
They rounded a bend in the path, and Longbourn came into view, along with several farmhands hauling large baskets. "Well, at least we will not be idle while we wait for a reply. I expect Hill will want as many hands as possible in the stillroom tomorrow."
Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced up at the sky, darkening as the horizon turned pink, but not really dusk yet. "I suppose she will not wish to start now, with dinner in only an hour or two."
Mary waved a hand. "Oh, Hill will assign a few of the servants to go through the baskets and pick out any leaves or insects tonight, then have them rinsed tomorrow morning while we are at breakfast. Then the maids will rotate between the kitchen and the still-room. If the fires will be going all day to make jam and preserves, Hill thinks that we might as well use the ashes for soak and re-stock the stillroom while we're at it."
He nodded. "A practical mindset. Besides, a gentlewoman who knows her way around the stillroom will not need to purchase everything from the apocathary, and that is quite a saving all on its own."
That was true, but there were more practical reasons, too. "Mama said that every gentlewoman should know at least the basics of burn ointment and other such things, in case of need where a doctor or apocathary cannot attend immediately. Besides, we shall need the soap; some of the berries stain dreadfully!"
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A/N: I meant to have this chapter up some time ago, but then "Every Possibility of Future Happiness" turned out WAY more successful than I imagined it would, and I got hit with a crippling bout of Imposter Syndrome (after my initial reaction of wondering it the publishing reports had glitched). Then I was busy preparing for a week-long bookstall, and then Imposter Syndrome invited it's friend Writer's Block to visit.
Chapters should come a lot more regularly now, but no promises.
Meanwhile, reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated.
Thanks
Nat
