Disclaimer: I don't own Pride and Prejudice, all rights to Jane Austen

Summary: See Previous Chapters

Chapter Three

Jane felt a great deal of relief about being unable to dance with Mr Collins until the third set. John Lucas, with whom Jane held a longstanding agreement to never dance the first set to avoid raising expectations, had requested her second set at Aunt Phillips's card party. Apparently, he had overheard the local musicians being hired for a ball, but had not overheard the date that it was to take place.

Properly, Mr Bingley should have opened the ball with his sister, as the hostess, but the presence of Mr Darcy, undeniably higher in status, changed the state of affairs. As a single gentleman and estate owner, Miss Bingley might certainly prefer to open the ball by dancing with him, instead. Mr Hurst might be indolent and self-indulgent on the whole, but he always made a point of dancing the first set with Mrs Hurst.

Theirs was a marriage of convenience, Mrs Hurst had confided, her great dowery of twenty-five thousand pounds for his status as a gentleman and access to higher circles than they might otherwise have attained. Still, making a point of dancing with her before seeing to his preferred conversation and cards spoke of some tender regard between them. Mrs Hurst proclaimed herself quite happy with the arrangement, however, and it was hardly Jane's business to question that.

Lizzy, on the other hand, had her first two dances requested by Mr Collins, and could not gracefully refuse (though her acceptance was punctuated by a number of reluctant pauses and a barb that was thankfully above his understanding). Mary was offered the fourth set, Kitty the supper dance (she looked no happier than Lizzy had about potentially being partnered with Mr Collins for a moment longer than politeness dictated) and Lydia the sixth. Lizzy barely waited until their cousin had left the room before moving her teacup to the side and dropping her head down to the table. "I never thought I would be so glad that propriety dictates only two dances for a non-engaged couple!"

Mary hummed, "I would not celebrate just yet; Mama certainly has such an event in mind."

Elizabeth groaned into the antique mahogany. "Are you sure you do not want him for yourself? You have often said you would not mind being a parson's wife?"

Mary looked up from her book on musical theory long enough to frown reprovingly. "A parson, yes. Mr Collins, not for the world! I tried to hold a conversation with him on how he chooses the subject of sermons. He spent half an hour disputing everything I said, and admitted that he allows his 'noble patroness, the honourable Lady Catherine de Bough' to dictate what he preaches, and submits sermons for her approval!"

Mary rarely injected such passion in her speech, but it was hard to blame her. Mr Collins's confession spoke to a level of interference that was highly uncommon among gentry who had livings to grant. Whatever lady did subject herself to a lifetime of Mr Collins - and it would certainly not be Lizzy, no matter what Mama wished! - would need to be of a temper to tolerate a great deal of interference by his Patroness.

Jane endeavored to lighten the atmosphere. "You had noticed his many comments on your wit and vivacity, then? I wasn't sure if you were preoccupied, or willfully ignoring him."

Lizzy sighed, sitting up again. "A little of both, I will confess. My desire to marry only for love and respect has not altered, and Mr Collins, for all his compliments, has made it clear that he does not respect my or my opinions, only how convenient I am in allowing him to fulfill his noble patroness's dictates."

Jane reached over to pat her sister's hand. "We need not marry for security, and Papa would not force you, no matter what Mama says. Securing a home at Longbourn for our lifetimes would be nice, but we are not desperate."

On paper, the Bennet sisters' dowery was a mere 1,000 each from their mother, and 100 pounds per annum from Longbourn upon their marriage, while their father lived. Even in a small community in Hertfordshire, this did not make her a target for the mercenary, something Jane was grateful for.

In reality, Mama had quickly come to understand the constraints of the entail - and more importantly, it's limits - and hatched a plan to improve her daughter's fortunes once it became clear she would have no sons of her own. Mama never allowed herself to appear concerned about money, such things being considered beneath a Gentleman's wife, but there was strategy to her spendthrift ways.

For all that marriage had elevated her station, Mama was the daughter of a man who had studied the law, and all the ways it could be circumvented in legal documents. As Grandfather Gardiner had so often said, one had to know how the law could be broken, to safeguard against such eventualities. Mama had grown up under his tutelage, and never forgot her roots.

Mrs Bennet's "overspending" on fabrics and fripperies were sent on to Uncle Gardiner, who re-sold them through his warehouses at the higher price commanded in Town, and invested the profit. Those funds were placed, in turn, into accounts that would pass to the Bennet daughters' control when they married, or reached the age of five and twenty, whichever came first. With that money having no connection to Longbourn Estate, not even the most unscrupulous heir would be able to lay claim to them, as they might anything that Papa purchased directly, like his books.

By now, Jane had a respectable 7,500 to call her own, between her dowery, allowance and Mama's savings, and investments worth an additional 300 per annum. Even if Jane never married, she would not be condemned to poverty or dependance. Perhaps it was nothing compared to Miss Bingley's 20,000 pounds, but other than Miss King, who had inherited her fortune only recently, Jane was the best-dowered young lady in the area.

Elizabeth had a similar amount, having asked Uncle Gardiner to invest her funds in riskier, but carefully-researched, high-profit endeavors. Mary's amount was smaller, as she had only been made aware of the money held in trust for her last year, on her eighteenth birthday, and investments took time to bear fruit. Kitty would be made aware next year, and Lydia two years after that... or as soon as she pried the secret out of Kitty.

Lydia and Kitty had developed quite the knack for taking apart bonnets and remaking them to their own taste. A gentlewoman could not work for a living, but if the finished bonnets could be passed onto Uncle Gardiner, once Kitty was brought into the fold and inevitably told Lydia, perhaps an occupation and tangible results to their efforts would steady the two, and give them something to think of other than red-coated officers.

Jane did not quite agree with her Mama's insistence on keeping the knowledge from Papa, as he would be the one negotiating their marriage settlements, but Mama was not as unaffected by Papa's lack of respect as she pretended. She feared that he would either take greater control of the funds he allowed her, or insist that the excess go to Longbourn, to eventually be taken over by Mr Collins. Worse, she feared that he would mock her efforts, after the many times Mrs Bennet had claimed that her daughters were beautiful enough that a man need not be paid to marry them.

Jane did not share that fear, but respected her mother's wishes. Papa's love of teasing often went further than Jane could be comfortable with, and he did not always have Lizzy's awareness of when someone felt hurt by her remarks.

Well, she would discuss it with Mr Bingley, when or if the time came, and re-visit the matter with Mama then.

The next several days were filled with rain, which meant that none of them could risk visiting Meryton and catching a cold. Nobody else was willing to brave the storms, either, which meant that there were no calls to break the monotony of the foul weather, or the tedium of Mr Collins's company, after Papa banished his cousin from his bookroom. Even the lace and shoe-roses ordered for the Netherfield Ball were received by proxy.

Had they not had the anticipation of a ball to look forward to, the five days before the anticipated event would have been unbearable.

Jane prepared for the ball in higher spirits than usual, and took even greater care with her hair and appearance than she otherwise would.

By no means did she wish for Mr Bingley to feel rushed into a proposal that he was not ready for, but with Jane's own heart firmly conquered, she hoped to obtain whatever parts of Mr Bingley's heart remained unsubdued. Perhaps it was more than could be won over the course of an evening, but a quick battle was rarely a decisive one, if the papers were to be believed.

They had not arrived more than five minutes before Lizzy and Lydia's spirits both plummeted by the absence of Mr Wickham, which was confirmed by his friend Denny, who said that he had been summoned to town on business of some kind the previous day. While that might lessen Elizabeth's anticipation of the night, she would hardly lack for partners, and there would be other opportunities. With luck, Lizzy would laugh herself out of her ill-humour shortly enough.

The dancing began, and Jane happily forgot the world for a half-hour in Mr Bingley's company, parting with the promise of the supper set also. Jane's second set was with John Lucas, before she had to endure the indignity of Mr Collins, of which the less said, the better! Her fourth dance was with an officer, Mr Pratt, during which the entire ballroom was treated to the surprise of seeing Mr Darcy dancing with Lizzy, and engaging in conversation with her!

The next dance was the supper set, for which Jane happily returned to Mr Bingley's side. This dance was less energetic, being the last before refreshments, and they had the opportunity to speak on other subjects. "I hear that Miss King has gained a number of admirers. She is fortunate, to be able to choose without regard to fortune."

Lucky was one word. Incautious was another. "I believe that every gentlewoman must marry with some consideration to fortune, to be assured of the wellbeing of herself and her children. Mrs King, Miss King's mother, for instance, married a poor sailor, who died not two months after they wed, leaving her with only a few hundred pounds and a child on the way, and a rift with her family."

Mr Bingley's eyes widened, "How terrible for her! I hope the family did not take it out on Miss King?"

That was one blessing for the Kings; grandchildren soothed most ill feelings. "No, her grandfather left her his fortune, as there are no other living grandchildren, but her mother was disinherited upon her marriage, and must rely on charity."

He nodded, leading her into a spin. "I take your point. Few are ill-served by caution."

Jane did not wish to leave the subject unclear. "While it is considered improper to speak about such things in detail, I can assure you that none of my family are in such dire circumstances that we must marry the first rich man to look our way, even if Papa were to suffer a carriage accident tomorrow. I am determined to marry for love over fortune or connections."

Mr Bingley smiled as they came together once more. "Darcy is much the same, but he has the misfortune of being an attractive target for fortune hunters."

Did Mr Bingley normally pale in comparison, or was his leasing of Netherfield his first experience of being the most eligible gentleman, after Mr Darcy's unfavourable first impression? "Are you not?"

He shrugged, "Oh, I am considered adequate for a dance or half an hour of conversation in a parlour, but the ladies of the Ton consider me not connected enough for more than that, unless Darcy is hiding behind me."

Jane could not help smiling at the image. "Well, I must be grateful for their folly. I consider you the finest gentleman of my acquaintance."

He smiled again with a greater depth of feeling. "I appreciate that. Some people are too attached to what they can gain from friendship."

That was an opening to a topic that Lizzy had requested she bring up, and to which Janed owned some curiosity. "Is Mr Wickham such a one? He is another of whom I hear conflicting accounts, as much as Mr Darcy."

Mr Bingley frowned slightly as the music slowed in it's final refrain. "I have not the whole story - Darcy prefers not to speak of Mr Wickham if he can avoid it - but from what I have heard I am convinced that Mr Wickham deserved less attention than he recieved, and is not the fellow he paints himself as. I can certainly vouch for Darcy's character, and if I had to choose one for a friend, I would much prefer him."

Jane smiled, allowing her hand to linger in his a moment longer than was strictly proper. "Thank you for confiding in me. I will not take it lightly."

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A/N: Longbourn brings in about 2000 pounds per year, after taxes and duties, and would probably spend about 750 on servants, food, etc. Barring any unexpected expenses, this leaves quite a lot for Mrs Bennet to secondhandedly-invest over the past 15-ish years.
The average cost for someone living alone with a few servants was 250 per year, so while Jane isn't ridiculously wealthy, she's comfortable.

Questions and comments are always appreciated,

Thanks

Nat