Chapter 2
Elizabeth's eyes flew open, and she quickly sat up in bed. Her heart was racing, and it took her a minute to realize where she was and all that had occurred the night before.
Sinking back into her pillows, she let out a sigh of relief. It was only a bad dream.
The sun's rays were just beginning to peek over the horizon, so after burrowing in the warm blankets for a few more moments, she put on a simple morning dress and laced up her boots for a walk.
The quiet serenity of chirping birds and rustling leaves were a balm to her troubled mind, and she watched as her boots crunched the autumn leaves on the path.
Flashes from her nightmare of Jane being taken away by burly men and a doctor with strange combination of Miss Bingley's nasally voice and Mr. Darcy's stony face faded away. They were replaced, instead, with the certainty that their new neighbors could do no more damage than use words to wound her sister.
"Hello, Lizzy!"
Elizabeth looked up, and - as if sent by Providence as a sign that all would be well - she saw the cheerful face of Jamie, the adopted son of Mrs. Hill.
When Elizabeth was twelve years old, she had been visiting her aunt and uncle Gardiner in London. Mrs. Gardiner, having only just given birth to their second child, had requested her niece's presence in order to help the nursemaid with their lively three-year-old.
Elizabeth and said nursemaid had taken the young boy to the park to play. She could still remember it as if it were only yesterday: the ducks on the pond, the warm summer sun, and the smell of the grass. Compared to the typical smog and noise of Gracechurch Street, the few hours spent in nature were a bit of heaven.
Little Edward had broken away from Elizabeth's hand and dashed around the corner out of sight. Elizabeth gave chase, but as she turned the same corner, she collided into a young man about a foot taller than herself. Bracing herself for a chastisement, she was astonished to discover that instead, he burst into noisy tears.
Uncertain of what to do, Elizabeth simply gaped at the sight of a grown man - for at age twelve, a young man of about sixteen appeared full-grown - sobbing as loudly as Lydia in the midst of a tantrum.
Thankfully, the nurse was able to catch up with Edward, and the two returned swiftly to where Elizabeth stood awkwardly with the weeping lad. As she waited, she noticed that his body was oddly twisted, as was his face. One arm was quite shorter than the other, and his skin was splotched with large, red marks.
"Come, Miss," the nursemaid said firmly, tugging on Elizabeth's arm. "It's best we return home."
"I'm sorry for running into you," Elizabeth said kindly, before turning away and following her cousin and the nanny.
To the poor nurse's dismay, the man trailed after them, tears streaming down his face. The nurse kept quickening her pace, until they were almost at a run by the time they reached the Gardiner residence.
Once the chaos was sorted, Mrs. Gardiner was able to determine that the young man's name was Jamie. He had been born with severe physical deformities, and he was orphaned at the age of ten when his mother - a seamstress - passed away. He had recently been turned out of the orphanage where he had been living due to being too old, and he had nowhere to go. His impairments made it impossible for him to find work, and he had nowhere to sleep and nothing to eat.
Mrs. Hill had been sent to fetch Elizabeth the following day, and she immediately fell in love with Jamie and his story. She instantly took him under her wing and brought him back to Longbourn with her. Jamie lived above the stables and did odd jobs around the estate.
"Hello, Jamie," Elizabeth replied with a smile.
It was Jamie's situation that spurred Mrs. Gardiner into heavy involvement with London charities that helped those who were born with impairments - both physical and mental - and were unable to care for themselves. It became a passion of her, of sorts, once Jamie's plight had opened their eyes once more to the realities of the situation for those like Jane who had no one to help them make their way in life.
"Did you have a nice time at the assembly last night?" he asked eagerly. "You and Miss Jane looked like angels!"
Jamie often rode along with the carriage, acting as a sort of footman, which gave the Bennet family a slightly higher status in society than they would have been able to afford otherwise.
Elizabeth's eyes softened. "What a nice thing to say. It's a shame not everyone shared your opinion."
He scowled fiercely. "What happened?"
What Jamie lacked in physical strength, he more than made up for with intelligence - and discretion. Ever since Elizabeth rescued him - as he called it - he had been her devoted guardian and confidante. Without the slightest hesitation, she revealed the entirety of the conversation she had overheard between the two gentlemen.
Upon completing the narrative, she looked at Jamie expectantly. To her satisfaction, his face revealed as much indignation as she had - and still - felt. "Is he blind? I mean, Jane is unique… but unnatural? That's not the word most men would have used."
"Mr. Darcy is clearly not most men." Elizabeth bit out, folding her arms and stamping a foot.
"Darcy, you say?"
Something in Jamie's tone caused Elizabeth's arms to fall to her sides. "Do you know him?"
"The name sounds somewhat familiar… but I cannot place it."
Further conversation was prevented when the sun, which had been climbing steadily in the sky throughout the morning, broke through the trees and directly into Elizabeth's face.
"Oh Lord, it's nearly lunchtime," she groaned. "Mama will have a fit if I miss the meal because I'm still out walking."
She looked at Jamie, then down the trail towards Longbourn, then back at Jamie again, biting her lip in consternation. He laughed and waved at her with his good arm. "Go on, then! I don't want to Mother Hill to be on the receiving end of Mrs. Bennet's nerves if you're late!"
Elizabeth laughed and, after a cheerful wave of farewell, darted along the path that would take her back home.
Fortunately for her, she returned to the manor to find the entire household still fast asleep. Everyone always had a bit of a lie-in after a night of dancing, but the afternoon brought the Lucas ladies to Longbourn. Lady Lucas, Charlotte, and Maria always paid a call after each assembly to discuss the events.
Lady Lucas was a kind woman who viewed the Bennet daughters as her own. The creases around her brown eyes deepened when she smiled warmly at at the eldest Bennet girl. "Dear Jane, what a success you were last night!"
Mrs. Bennet was eager to agree, as usual, but she replied with uncharacteristically gracious restraint. "Your dear Charlotte began the evening well enough! She was Mr. Bingley's first choice."
Charlotte's plain face tinged slightly pink. Her voice was even, however, as she stated, "Yes, but he did seem to like his choice better."
Jane's mother's face lit up with pride. "You mean Jane, of course, because he danced with her twice! Yes, it did seem as if he admired her, did it not? And what was it he said to Mr. Robinson?"
"You mean when Mr. Robinson asked Mr. Bingley how he liked the assemblies? Yes, Mr. Bingley responded that he had never seen such pretty women in all his life!"
"And what was it he said after that, Lady Lucas? Do you remember?" Elizabeth bit back a slight snort at her mother's prevarication. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Mrs. Bennet's memory, but if there was one thing her mother enjoyed more than boasting about her daughters, it was hearing others sing their praises.
"Why, of course I do!" A faint note of amusement in her tone was the only sign Lady Lucas gave that demonstrated her awareness of Mrs. Bennet's attempt at subtlety. "I heard it for myself when Mr. Robinson then asked which were the prettiest. Mr. Bingley said there was no doubt at all that the eldest Miss Bennet was the most beautiful."
Mrs. Bennet squealed and clapped her hands, and Jane beamed with delight at this bit of praise. "How kind of him!"
"Mark my words," Mrs. Bennet said proudly, "there will be wedding bells before Christmas!"
The conversation continued between the two mothers and Jane, while Elizabeth and Charlotte spoke privately. "What did Jane make of Mr. Bingley?" Charlotte's plain face earnestly studied her younger friend's countenance.
Elizabeth sighed. "She finds him to be the most wonderful man she has ever met. I worry for her, Charlotte."
Charlotte raised her eyebrows in surprise. "He is amiable and wealthy. Why on earth would you be worried, Eliza? He would provide her a comfortable home, and your family would be well cared for after your father's passing."
Elizabeth gave her friend a significant look. "You know how Jane is, Charlotte. She is almost too good. She would never be able to protect herself from an unkind husband, or even from a kind husband with unkind sisters. It would destroy her to be mistreated."
Understanding filled Charlotte's face. "I can see why that would be concerning for you. But what else can Jane do? There is nothing for a woman in life other than marriage and family, even for one such as Jane. If she likes him, and he likes her, then it could be much worse."
"I just don't know if she is ready to be a wife and mother… or if she ever will be."
"She is not as bad as all that, Eliza. She would make a better wife and mother than, say, Lydia!"
The two girls burst into giggles. "That is a fair point. For all of Jane's innocence, she would be devoted and selfless. Lydia would just be out for what she could get!"
It was true. Lydia Bennet - as well as her sister, Kitty - were ignorant, idle, and vain. Lydia shared many of Jane's physical features, but whereas Jane was placid and calm, Lydia was demanding and spoiled. Wherever Lydia went, she insisted Kitty follow. Elizabeth couldn't imagine how a marriage to either of her two youngest sisters would be agreeable in any way.
Once their humor died down, Elizabeth's brow creased again. "Jane is like a child in so many ways, still, Charlotte. While Lydia is immature, Jane is naive."
"But she is a woman, Eliza," Charlotte pointed out. "While she may have some childlike attributes, she also has a strong desire to love and be loved. She wants to be a wife, to be a mother. Why should she be denied those wishes?"
Elizabeth threw her hands up in frustration. "I just don't wish to see her in an unequal match of affection!"
The room fell silent, all eyes on Elizabeth and Charlotte. "Girls, is everything alright?" Lady Lucas asked.
Charlotte and Elizabeth exchanged a look before the elder said, "Yes, Mama. We were simply having a difference of opinion on the best methods of attracting a husband."
As Charlotte had hoped, this explanation diverted their mothers' attention back towards Jane, who sat in between the two women with a blissful expression on her face. Elizabeth watched her elder sister bask in the elder women's attentions, knowing that she could only be thinking of Mr. Bingley.
Perhaps Charlotte is right, she thought. It's not as though she could gain employment as a governess or companion after Papa dies.
After canvassing the many merits of Mr. Bingley, his handsome mien, and his amiable manners, the conversation then turned towards Bingley's guests, who had not impressed the assembly so well as their host had.
"I declare, Mr. Darcy is one of those rich young men who thinks the whole world beneath him," sniffed Mrs. Bennet. "He stood up with those of his party and none other."
"Miss Bingley told me that he never speaks much unless he is well-acquainted with the person," Jane said. "The poor man must be shy. I know how that feels. I don't much like talking to people I don't know very well, either."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at this comment, but the stubborn look on Jane's face informed the room that she would brook no other interpretation of the wealthy gentleman's airs.
"He does consider Mr. Bingley a friend," Charlotte reminded them, "and we all know that man's fortune came from trade. He cannot be all bad."
"He would certainly keep his wife in fine clothing and jewels," giggled Lydia. "I think I could easily put up with a such a sour man for a husband if it meant I could afford to buy anything I liked."
Mrs. Bennet turned surprised eyes to her youngest daughter. "I did not think you would have liked such a hateful, proud man."
"Pride," interjected Mary, "is a very common failing. Everything I have ever read tells me that human nature Is prone to it. However, we often confuse pride with vanity. Pride is thinking our opinion of ourselves, whereas vanity is what we wish to have others think of us."
"Well, Mr. Darcy certainly is not vain, then," Elizabeth said with a sly smile, "as he couldn't care two straws for what we think of him."
The eldest Lucas boy, who was only a year older than Lydia in age, interrupted the conversation. "If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy, I wouldn't care how proud I was! I would keep a stable full of thoroughbreds and drink a bottle of French wine each day."
"And if I were to see you at it," said Lady Lucas severely, "I would take your bottle away immediately."
The young man made to protest, but Mrs. Bennet's voice stopped what could have become a full argument. "Lydia, dearest… would you truly be interested in Mr. Darcy as a husband?"
Lydia's upturned eyes widened for a moment, then she furiously nodded her head. "Yes, Mama! Yes! I would like to marry Mr. Darcy. He has plenty of money, and he is handsome after all."
"Then we shall see what we can do," Mrs. Bennet promised. "Mark my words, both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy will be requesting audiences with Mr. Bennet before the fortnight is over!"
Lydia began to dance around the room in delight, and her boasts about pin money, ball gowns, and jewels were second in volume only to her mother's clamors on the same subject. Lady Lucas's pinched lips and Charlotte's wary expression did nothing to calm their effusions, which carried on for nearly a quarter of an hour until the Lucases made their farewells.
Elizabeth closed her eyes in dismay, a feeling of dread rising in her stomach at what was to come.