PP AU Non-Canon General Regency

Ties That Bind

NOTE: In this story Lydia did NOT run off with George; HOWEVER, they still married AND it still caused problems between her and her father.

Odd Dreams

Ch. 1.

Barren streets, no one around—only the sounds of horses' hooves could still be heard. Fog filled the air, and shadows moved about. Some labored, some hurried, some spoke in serious tones, but only one moved with grace. Her cape flowed along the cobblestone of some street of an unknown town as effortlessly as a boat upon the ocean, and it waved as gracefully as a mast upon its stern. Her hair was auburn, and a bundle was carried in her arms. Plus an older girl, with long-braided, hair was seen but only from the back. He could not tell who she was from behind. Reaching out to touch the one with auburn hair, everything faded. The sound of a rooster crowing at the insane hour of two a.m. woke Mr. Bennet up.

"Cook needs to shoot you and make you dinner." Thomas grumbled and sat up in bed unconcerned about waking Mrs. Bennet for she had passed way shortly just before Lydia had married George Wickham. It had been a marriage he had reluctantly endorsed but only because he had been led to believe his daughter had been compromised. Afterwards, Mr. Bennet had found out different and he had quit speaking to the couple. That had been three years.

That was not however on his mind, the dream was. Who was the lady with the two children? Thomas had been having the same dream for a fortnight. The lady was unknown to him, not once had she ever met her. Her finely sculptured face, delicate hands and so on shouted the lady should break at the slightest touch. And yet there had been extreme strength surrounding her and even in her effortless movement. She had turned her head and had locked eyes with him just as things had started to fade.

'Try and break me and I will break you first. Rule me with an iron fist and I will crush your spine. Treat me with respect, listen to my opinion and I will give you submission every time.' Had sounded in his ear.

"What kind of dream is that?" Thomas looked down at his old dog, Rosie curled up at the bottom of the bed. "I have no interest in remarrying. All my children are married, except Elizabeth and she and Fitzwilliam are now engaged. Took them long enough, but they will soon be wed. So, it is not as if I need to concern myself with that subject at my age. Good heavens, I just turned forty-eight. I will be fortunate to live another ten years. Who wants an old man anyway."

No answer came, and none was expected at such an hour. Thomas considered getting up and going to the study but there would be plenty to do later so he got as comfortable as he could and, thankfully he managed to go back to sleep. The gentleman had hoped to go to place where no dreams existed and yet that is now where he found himself.

Giggling and laughter filled the air. A door opened and Thomas found himself following the sound. A young child, again he could not see a face, ran ahead of him wearing a standard gown for a baby to wear. The infant rounded a corner and Thomas followed only to find himself in another corridor and the youngster further ahead than what one would have expected him, or her, to be. An older child, maybe even one nearing their teen years, or in their teen years, with long-braided hair, picked the baby up and started to run.

"Wait! I do not want to hurt you!" Thomas found himself shouting. "I want to help you!"

Why he had shouted it he did not know; it had just come out. However, when he did all of a sudden, he froze in his steps for the same woman; again a face he could not see, but the flowing cape, the auburn hair that had been dark before now had flames around it and she was between him and the children with a sword in her hand.

"Try, I dare you, Try."

Once again Thomas woke up sweating. Clearly, whoever this woman was had children she was willing to fight and die for. Mr. Bennet vowed right then and there, if by some strange fluke, this lady was ever met he would stand by her -not against. This time: however, when he looked at the clock it was time to get up and attend to his estate.

The morning sun cast a soft light over the frosty landscape of Longbourn as Mr. Bennet got up and got dressed. He walked down the corridor and down the stairs hearing Elizabeth stirring and knew she would be up by the time he got back. Stepping out of the manor, the man pulled his coat tighter against the biting cold. It was the middle of December, and the estate demanded his attention Thomas had set aside the days of neglecting the home of his birth. He made his way to the stable, where the stable hand had been at work for at least an hour.

"Good morning, Andrew," Mr. Bennet greeted the young man, observing the horses being tended to. "How are the horses today?"

"They are well, sir, but the water troughs keep freezing over," Jackson replied, chipping away at the ice. "I think it is a good idea to keep their drinking water available."

Mr. Bennet nodded. "I am glad you are doing what you can to keep them unfrozen. Use the heated stones if necessary. I agree the animals need to stay hydrated, especially in this cold."

Departing the stable, Mr. Bennet went straight to the barn where the livestock were housed. He inspected the building, checking for any gaps or drafts that could let in the cold, not anything Thomas wished to exist. Finding a couple loose boards, he quickly secured the boards, making a mental note to have them repaired properly later. Inside the barn, he looked in on the bins and saw the feed bins needed to be filled. So, refilling them and making sure the animals were healthy, knowing their diet would determine if it was possible for them to maintain their strength during the harsh winter.

Next, the gentleman headed towards the root cellar. The stone steps were slippery with ice, requiring careful navigation. Inside, the cellar was filled with the earthy smell of stored root vegetables and preserved meats. Mr. Bennet checked each bin and barrel, ensuring that the provisions were plentiful and unspoiled. Satisfied, he climbed back up to the surface, his breath visible in the frigid air.

The tenant cottages were his next stop. The smoke rose from the chimneys, a good sign that the families inside were warm and their fires well-stocked, so the cold was not likely an issue for these people. Mr. Bennet knocked on the first door, briefly conversing with the tenant to see if they had enough firewood and provisions for the winter. He was relieved to find at each home the tenants were well, and their needs were met.

As the day continued on, Mr. Bennet counted it a blessing the winter sky did not darken but only because it had been dreary for a week and there had already been snow the day before. So, a clear sky was a welcome reprieve. Mr. Bennet returned to the manor, satisfied with his inspections for that morning. Inside, the warmth of the hearth was a welcome contrast to the cold outside. Elizabeth was bustling about, organizing the household and ensuring everything ran smoothly eager to have her own obligations taken care of so when Fitzwilliam came, she would be free to go with him, Charle and Jane to a local party at the Assembly rooms in town.

""Is everything in order, Lizzy?" he asked as he entered.

"Yes, Papa. The servants are preparing lunch, and I have seen to the fires," she replied, glancing over at him with a smile.

"Excellent," he said with a satisfied nod. "I have checked on the tenants and the livestock. All is well for now."

They sat down at the dining room table, enjoying a hearty lunch of soup, bread, and roasted vegetables. Mr. Bennet would have loved having an estate manager; however, he was realistic enough to know that unwise choices of his youth had made that route impossible. So, imagine his surprise when Elizabeth spoke up.

"Fitzwilliam and I were talking the other day and, if you do not mind, we were hoping you would not mind hiring an estate manager for Longbourn." She hurried to explain their reasoning. "You have done wonders in the past three years father but, we thought, perhaps with help- Longburn's income might increase even more."

"As much as I may not enjoy agreeing; you may be correct." Thomas sighed. "Tell you what, if Fitzwilliam finds someone who will not attempt to push me aside, he is more than willing to secure Longbourn some extra help, or at least someone to teach me how to run it better."