Hi, I was overwhelmed by your wonderful reviews and follows! Thank you all for your support and feedback. I will try to update at least once a week.
I also acknowledge that there were some inaccuracies regarding the characters' ages. I have corrected it, Elisabeth is now seven in Chapter 1.
Jane: two years older than Elizabeth
Mary: two years younger than Elizabeth
Kitty: three years younger than Elizabeth
Lydia: five years younger than Elizabeth
Additionally, I've removed the bold formatting.
I hope you enjoy Chapter 2.
Chapter 2: A Clash of Wills in the Schoolroom
The schoolroom at Longbourn was tucked away on the second floor, a sunlit corner of the house where the Bennet sisters spent their mornings and early afternoons immersed in lessons. For Elizabeth, who was eight years old, the room held a mixture of fondness and frustration. Jane, now ten, sat beside her, ever the attentive and diligent student. Elizabeth's younger sisters were still too young to join them in earnest studies—Mary was five, Kitty only four, and Lydia barely two.
The Bennet girls' education was not unlike that of many young ladies of modest means. The emphasis was not on rigorous academic study but rather on the accomplishments expected of young women of their station. Mr. Bennet, ever the bookish observer, had provided them with a respectable tutor when they were younger and had taken a personal interest in teaching them to read and write, but as the girls grew, much of their education came from Mrs. Bennet's guidance and their governess, Mrs. Havers.
That morning, Jane and Elizabeth sat at their small wooden desks. Mrs. Havers, a stern yet fair woman, was overseeing their penmanship practice. It was a skill both practical and ornamental—elegant handwriting was a sign of refinement. Elizabeth found herself tapping her quill absentmindedly, watching the tiny drops of ink stain her fingers. Writing felt tedious today, and she couldn't help but feel restless.
"Elizabeth," Mrs. Havers called, not looking up from the embroidery she was inspecting. "You must take care with your quill. A lady's penmanship reflects her grace and character."
Elizabeth sighed, trying to mimic the smooth, looping letters that Jane wrote effortlessly. Jane's hand moved elegantly across the paper, each letter formed with delicate precision. Elizabeth admired her sister's patience, even if she couldn't quite muster it herself. Jane seemed to fit effortlessly into the mold of the perfect young lady, something that Mrs. Bennet often praised and held up as an example for Elizabeth and, in time, her younger sisters.
When the lesson in penmanship ended, Mrs. Havers set aside the ink and papers and turned their attention to a French book. Elizabeth often found French tiresome, but she knew its importance. In their world, a young lady of good standing was expected to possess a working knowledge of the French language, enough to read poetry, understand conversation, and perhaps one day read letters from far-off acquaintances or husbands who had connections abroad.
As they finished their French phrases, Elizabeth noticed her mother sweeping into the schoolroom in a flurry of lace and bustling energy. Mrs. Bennet's expression was one of deep disapproval as she looked at the books Mrs. Havers had set aside. "Why must you waste their time with these… these useless studies?" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, her voice rising with agitation. "My girls do not need to know about ancient kings or the borders of countries they will never visit!"
Mrs. Havers, who had been overseeing Jane's neat script, lifted her eyes. "Madam, it is my belief that a young lady's education should prepare her to converse intelligently with her future husband and his acquaintances. A basic understanding of history, geography, and the world beyond their doorstep is essential for—"
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Bennet interrupted. "There is no need for Lizzy to know such things, and Jane has more than enough to concern herself with—her music, her embroidery, her French! Besides, gentlemen do not want intelligent conversation from young ladies; they want them to be graceful and pleasant."
Elizabeth, sitting silently at her desk, felt her cheeks burn at her mother's words. She lowered her head, trying to focus on her French lesson, but her fingers tightened around her quill. She thought of the history books her father sometimes left in the schoolroom, which she secretly enjoyed reading more than the rigid piano practice her mother insisted on.
Mrs. Havers's voice was calm, but Elizabeth could hear the frustration simmering beneath it. "Madam, if you will permit me to say, refinement in a young lady extends beyond her accomplishments. A well-rounded education is the foundation upon which her other skills rest."
Mrs. Bennet's eyes flashed with irritation. "Enough, Mrs. Havers. You may continue with French and penmanship, but I will not have my daughters burdened with these irrelevant subjects."
Mrs. Havers set aside the history book she had been holding, her expression resigned. "As you wish, Madam."
When Mrs. Bennet had left the schoolroom, the silence that followed was heavy and oppressive. Mrs. Havers resumed their French lesson, but Elizabeth's mind was elsewhere. She couldn't understand why her mother feared knowledge so much. What was the harm in learning about the world beyond Longbourn? What was the danger in understanding history, in asking questions?
After a few days, Elizabeth found herself alone with Mrs. Havers during a rare moment of free time. Jane had been called away by Mrs. Bennet to attend to some household matter, and the younger girls were playing under the watchful eye of a maid. Elizabeth approached the governess hesitantly, unsure if she should speak her mind.
"Mrs. Havers," Elizabeth began, her voice quieter than usual, "I… I'm sorry that Mama won't let us learn about history and geography anymore. I liked those lessons."
Mrs. Havers looked up from her sewing, her face softening at the sight of Elizabeth's earnest expression. "Thank you, Lizzy," she replied with a small smile. "I am glad to hear that you enjoyed them."
"Why doesn't Mama want us to learn those things?" Elizabeth asked, her curiosity overcoming her caution.
The governess hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Your mother believes that your education should focus on the accomplishments that will best prepare you for society and marriage. She… does not see the value in subjects that she considers irrelevant to a young lady's duties."
"But… but isn't it important to know about the world?" Elizabeth pressed, her voice rising with a mixture of confusion and frustration. "Shouldn't we understand more than just how to sew and speak French?"
Mrs. Havers's eyes held a hint of sadness. "Yes, my dear, I believe it is important. But not everyone agrees. Your mother wants what she thinks is best for you, even if her ideas differ from mine."
As Elizabeth glanced at Jane, who was busy with her embroidery, she felt a deep sense of affection for her older sister. Jane's quiet kindness and natural beauty made her the ideal daughter in Mrs. Bennet's eyes, but Elizabeth knew that Jane harbored her own worries about the future, even if she rarely spoke of them. The weight of their family's situation—the lack of a male heir, the uncertainty of their financial stability—hung over them all like a heavy cloud.
Mrs. Havers reached out and gently patted Elizabeth's hand. "Do not be disheartened, Lizzy. There are other ways to learn. Books, conversations, and—" she lowered her voice, glancing at the door to ensure they were alone, "—your own curiosity. Keep asking questions, even if the answers are not always easy to find."
Elizabeth nodded, a smile creeping onto her face. Mrs. Havers found discreet ways to nurture Elizabeth's curiosity. Though the formal lessons were now limited, the governess would leave books in the schoolroom that she knew would catch Elizabeth's eye. She would ask thoughtful questions during their lessons that hinted at larger ideas, inviting Elizabeth to explore them on her own.
Despite Mrs. Bennet's restrictions, Elizabeth's education continued—not just in the schoolroom, but in the whispered conversations with her governess and the questions she kept asking. Beyond the French phrases and delicate stitching lay lessons in resilience, in understanding their place in the world, and in navigating the expectations that others had for them.
And despite her restless nature, Elizabeth was determined to learn those lessons in her own way.