I had initially intended to make each chapter cover one summer's visit, but this one got too long so the next chapter will finish this summer and likely each summer/visit will be 2 chapters going forward. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 2

"Mary said you mustn't open that until we reach the Inn," Jane admonished her sister who had removed a letter from her bag.

"I know, but I am curious and a little bored. Uncle is sleeping and you were too until just a moment ago," Elizabeth responded, still holding the letter. "Mary will never know."

"But you will," Jane answered simply, settling her head back once again and closing her eyes.

"Oh bother," Elizabeth exclaimed, roughly shoving the letter back into her bag. Across from them she noticed her uncle's mouth twitch. "You are awake!" she accused.

"Only just long enough to hear Jane revive your conscience." He said, sitting up and glancing out the window. "Your curiosity will be satisfied soon. We should reach the inn within the hour."

Sure enough, the party reached the Black Swan a short time later, just before dusk began to coat the road in darkness. The girls smiled broadly as the proprietor and his wife ushered them to their private rooms. Jane had never slept in any bed but her own and Elizabeth's experience was scarcely more extensive, consisting only of a night in this very inn last summer and of course her months at Barlow Hall. The family was served a simple but hearty meal in their sitting room and then the girls eagerly sought their shared chamber, exhausted from the excitement as much as the travel.

The next day's journey was expected to be slightly shorter than the day previous, which had included two stops to change horses and travel from sunup to sundown. The party set out after a light breakfast with the expectation of arriving at Barlow Hall, after one additional stop to change horses, in the late afternoon. Several hours into this final leg of the journey Mr. Gardiner reflected on what amiable traveling companions his nieces were. They chatted with him readily about an array of topics but were also able to entertain one another when he slept or read. Even when not occupied by one another, each girl seemed well able to occupy herself. Prior to this journey Edward Gardiner primarily knew Jane through Elizabeth's stories. Stories he was sure had exaggerated her in every way. Elizabeth loved Jane fiercely, but this was not a real surprise as he had quickly come to see whatever Elizabeth did, she did with a kind of reckless abandon that might one day land her in trouble. But for now, that fierce loyalty and surety was primarily focused on her family, especially her sisters. Therefore, he imagined she was in no real danger.

As to Jane, having not seen her since she was eight or nine, he was not certain what to expect. He remembered her as eager to please, a beautiful girl who seemed especially quiet, especially when contrasted with Elizabeth – who at six was already entirely too sure of herself and seemingly attracted to mischief. His initial impressions of the young lady before him was of a kind, honest, quiet young girl who loved her sister as much as she was loved by her. He was curious to see how each lady fared this summer.

Late in the afternoon as the carriage ambled down the long, tree-lined drive toward the manor house Elizabeth pointed out to Jane the sites she felt were of interest. The edge of a wooded path she had favored, the stable where they could visit and feed the horses, the window of the bedroom she had slept in last summer – a look to her uncle seemed to ask if it would be hers once again. He confirmed she would have the same room with Jane in the adjoining.

"O, Uncle, we do not need separate quarters," Jane said. "We are used to sharing and would not want to give your staff more work or take up a chamber that might be needed."

"Do not worry, Jane." Her uncle assured her. "Barlow Hall has more than enough rooms and I do not imagine having you in your own chamber will over burden the staff, but I do appreciate your concern." he smiled at Jane, and she nodded her acceptance.

When they arrived at the front entrance a number of young men seemed to have anticipated them and were about the luggage before they had even descended. Shortly, Sims and Mrs. Gladden were there as well. They greeted Mr. Gardiner as he alighted. Alerted by the commotion, Mrs. Gardiner and Mr. Barlow soon emerged from the house. After quickly greeting his wife and cousin Mr. Gardiner turned to help Jane down. Before he could perform the same office for Elizabeth she burst from the carriage and was in her aunt's arms in an instant.

"I missed you terribly," she said, clasping her close.

"And I you," Madeline replied fondly. "Now will you introduce me to this lovely young lady?" she asked, stepping back slightly from Elizabeth and nodding her head at Jane who stood beside her uncle several steps away.

"Of course," Elizabeth said, going to take Jane's hand and lead her to their aunt. "Aunt Gardiner, may I present my sister, the eldest Miss Bennet, Jane. I am certain you will simply adore one another as you are both quite the best people I know." Though she had begun formally, it was impossible for her to hold in her enthusiasm and no one here, aside from perhaps Sims, had ever seemed to require it of her. The ladies curtsied to one another but then Elizabeth tugged them both into a hug. Mrs. Gardiner laughed with delight as she participated in the three-way embrace.

Jane was next presented to Mr. Barlow, who though more restrained than his younger cousin was just as welcoming.

"Please consider this your home, Miss Bennet," he said after the introductions were made and pleasantries exchanged. "We were so delighted you are in health now and able to join us for the summer."

Jane's thanks were all that was good and proper and though Elizabeth wistfully wished that she had half of Jane's poise and grace, she did not begrudge Jane her natural or cultivated gifts. She simply loved her for them.

The time between their arrival and dinner was spent unpacking, mostly. Aunt Madeline was there to supervise and though Elizabeth intended to participate and help, she found she could not withhold her many questions past the emptying of one half of one trunk.

"How is Delilah's foal? In your last letter she was still sickly, and I am ever so anxious to meet her and I must assure Delilah she is still my absolute favorite horse in the world. Papa's mounts simply do not compare. Do you think there is time to go to the stables before dark?"

There was no time to visit Delilah, Madeline assured her niece. Though Elizabeth was disheartened by this she knew she had the entire summer. She was soon onto other inquiries. Her aunt, uncle and Mr. Barlow were all faithful correspondents so she vacillated between inquiring after minutia that might have been left out of letters – had Mrs. Gibbs tried that new soup recipe? - to following up on threads from the letters – when was the pig thief caught?

Aunt Madeline was more than patient with Elizabeth's eager inquisition she responded not with perfunctory answers but stories, elaborations and humor. In addition, she returned Elizabeth's curiosity with her own and in her careful questioning Elizabeth was reminded of why she loved Barlow Hall beyond its grandeur, fields and gardens. Here she felt not like a misunderstood nuisance, but like a valued and important member of a family.

A week after the arrival of the Bennet sisters found Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner alone by the fire in the drawing room after the others had gone up to bed. After some discussion regarding a neighbor's upcoming wedding and the menu for the following week they moved on to a topic that delighted them both: their nieces.

"I must confess I did not expect Jane to be the absolute paragon of all things good and lovely that Lizzy described last year," Edward said. "The sister she told us about seemed too good to be true and with Lizzy's inherent optimism . . ."

"Yes, exactly," his wife agreed. "In addition, I'll admit that your sister's letters also colored my impression of what Jane is like."

"How so?"

"Fanny only ever speaks of her beauty, of her meekness and how everyone said they were so alike. I suppose I assumed Jane would be like Fanny . . ."

"A little silly and a lot vain?" her husband asked with a smile. Madeline chuckled lightly at his frank, and accurate assessment.

"Yes, it was uncharitable of me."

"But not without foundation. Fanny does delight in calling attention to how like her Jane is and I confess when I first beheld her at the Inn in Bedford, I was struck by how much she looked like the little Fanny I remember from our childhood. I too wondered if the resemblance was more than skin deep."

They looked at each other and smiled, a smile they had been sharing quite a bit since the arrival of their Bennet nieces – it was fond and a little hopeful. They had already grown quite attached to Elizabeth and now they found Jane staking out a place in their hearts as well. In addition, as much as they loved the girls on their own, they could not help but feel some elation at the ability to practice those parental arts that they hoped would be put to use on their own brood soon enough.

"I think we can anticipate a very enjoyable summer with Jane's sweetness and Elizabeth's wit to enliven Barlow Hall." Mrs. Gardiner predicted.

"I am in agreement," her husband said as they ascended the stairs together. "Though I do not believe anyone will supplant Elizabeth in his heart, Cousin Andrew is already quite taken with Jane."

"As they seem to do generally, I believe their interests and temperaments will provide a great balance for Andrew. Jane can listen to his stories for hours with real genuine interest and concern while Elizabeth loves to read to him and can describe in such vivid detail her adventures about the grounds. He does so miss being able to get out and about." Madeline said with some sadness lacing the hopeful anticipation in her voice. Being so attuned to her, Edward sensed this and drew her into his embrace.

"It seems so hard that he must be so limited physically when his mind is as sharp as ever."

"Andrewwould be the first to tell you he has enjoyed life more than most and . . ."

"Probably more than he should." They finished together with the by now very familiar saying of their elderly cousin.

"He has led a full life," Madeline conceded, "Even if it has not been full in the way many would measure things. He has been widowed nearly fifty years and of course never had children, but he has traveled, is a beloved member of this community and has taken Barlow Hall from near bankruptcy to the thriving estate it is today."

"We are blessed to call him family and of course to have been given the privilege of being part of Barlow Hall," Edward said in a familiar refrain. The Gardiners were endlessly grateful not only to be named as heirs to this substantial estate, but for the family which they had formed there.

Elizabeth had spent the week acquainting Jane with most, but not quite all of her favorite haunts in and around Barlow Hall. She spent as much time as she was allowed at the stables with Micah, the stablemaster, Jane usually by her side and a few weeks into their visit they had already taken one trip into town where Jane browsed with Aunt Gardiner and Elizabeth spent the entire time at the bookstore where she alternating between perusing the shelves and sitting on the stool and chatting with Mrs. Adams, the widowed daughter of the proprietor, Mr. Wilson.

In some ways Elizabeth's summer was like the one before, but in others it was different. The Gardiners had insisted the girls each choose an accomplishment to focus on for the summer. Consequently, Jane visited a drawing master in Lambton twice a week and a music master came to Barlow Hall three times each week to teach Elizabeth both the pianoforte and the of the girls valued these opportunities in their own ways. Jane's way, of course was to be diligent and demonstrably grateful. Elizabeth expressed her gratitude more in fits and starts because she could not, at times, help but resent the time spent indoors when the bright sunny garden or the path to the stables, visible from where she sat plunking away, called to her.

Three weeks after their arrival the Bennets, Gardiner's and Mr. Barlow had settled quite nicely into a routine and Elizabeth had taken Jane to nearly every nook and cranny, field and river she had discovered the previous. There was one place Elizabeth had not shared with her sister, indeed had not visited it yet herself. She could hardly admit the reason for this even to herself. But she knew, though she chose not to dwell on it, that it was because she did not want to share it with anyone, even Jane. Though it did not change her actions, this made Elizabeth feel utterly wretched. Jane was the best sister, the best person, she knew. Why would she not want to share her favourite place on the estate with her? Still, despite not having an answer for this very valid question Elizabeth did not venture to her secret place until Jane was otherwise occupied.

"Are you certain you don't want me to sit with you?" Elizabeth asked her sister and Mr. Barlow. They had just settled the elderly man in his favorite chair with his favorite blanket in the sunroom, his favorite room. It faced east and had a view of the flower gardens as well as the home woods beyond. Jane was going to read him a selection of Shakespeare's sonnets as per his request. Though Elizabeth had sat with them each day thus far when Jane read to Mr. Barlow, she did hope that they would tell her she need not stay today. This was a little because she did not particularly enjoy Shakespeare's sonnets, no offense to Shakespeare, Elizabeth did not care for sonnets or poetry of any kind. She preferred stories of adventure and sometimes, lately, gothic tales seasoned with both adventure and romance. The larger reason was Elizabeth's desire to walk about on her own. They assured her that though she was welcome she was not needed. Both could sense her palpable desire to be out of doors despite the unseasonably cool weather and overcast sky.

It took Elizabeth a few minutes to retrieve and don her warmer outerwear. Once she did she bid Jane and Mr. Barlow good day and then poked her head into her aunt's study to do the same. Instead of leaving through the front door, Elizabeth descended to the kitchens. Mrs. Sommers, the beloved cook, was not present but the undercooks readily indulged her and soon she was on her way, pockets full of her favorite muffins. Eating her treat as she went, Elizabeth strode through the rose garden and past the small pond to the path that would lead her through the small west woods. She emerged from the wood half an hour later into unexpected afternoon sunshine. Excitement causing her to quicken her steps Elizabeth climbed over a small fence and spotted the oak trees, two or three thick, that indicated her destination was not far off. She arrived after another ten minutes on a barely carved path.

The field of vibrant blues and purples stretched out before her. Elizabeth sat on the low stone wall that lined two sides of the field and took in the sight. The flowers seemed to twinkle in the sun, their shades and hues vibrant as they danced in the slight breeze. As had happened last year when she discovered the field, Elizabeth was transfixed. Last year when she stumbled upon it during a time when she had sought distraction and escape before learning of her family's health and well-being it's beauty had been a balm to her troubled spirit. She had returned to it every day she could get away even after she learned her family was recovering. For the first time in her life, she wished she had some skill with a pencil or paint so that she could capture the beauty and take it with her.

Now she knew this was a field of bluebells. It had taken weeks of researching in her father's and Sir William Lucas' libraries to discover the name of the flowers she had fallen in love with. Once armed with that name she was able to learn all about them. But now as she enjoyed her second muffin and swung her legs against the rocks upon which she sat Elizabeth did not think so much about the facts and information she had gleaned from the several botanical reference guides she has perused. No, she simply soaked in the shapes and colors and was happy. Not yet able to understand that having stumbled upon the bluebells during the most anxious time of her young life, the beauty and peace she experienced in that field had as much to do with the Elizabeth herself as with the flowers.

After a few minutes of observation Elizabeth, in characteristic fashion, needed to be among the objects of her admiration. So she carefully found her way to the edge of the field where she knew she would find a small, almost imperceptible path which wound through the center and to the stream on the other side. Once she reached the center she carefully picked her way among the blooms. Here some of the flowers were particularly vibrant. Elizabeth dropped into a seat and then she laid down, arms and legs spread wide, staring up at the bright sky through the flowers dancing around her. Sometime later a rhythmic pounding noise caused her to stir from the light sleep that had caught her. Sitting up slowly she rubbed her eyes and looked around. After a moment she saw a figure on horseback emerge from the opposite woods. She knelt quickly and watched as the horse and rider sped along the stream. The horse was magnificent – a large black stallion with a shock of white in his black mane which flew in the wind. His strides were sure and swift. It was only once they were almost out of her sight, following a path that would turn with the stream and head away, that she examined the rider. From this distance she could not make out his features beyond his dark hair and clearly fine clothes. She thought she could tell that he was tall, but then again everyone appeared tall to the petite young girl so she couldn't be sure. It wasn't so much the individual features of rider or horse that captured Elizabeth's attention. It was more the fluid movement, the powerful strides and the way they seemed to be one. The abandon with which they seemed to gallop, heedless of all else. She almost held her breath as they approached the stone wall at the far end of the field. They cleared it with what appeared to be no effort at all and soon they were out of sight, the sound of pounding hooves fading quickly.

She did not know it at the time, but that rider left an indelible impression on little Elizabeth. As with the field she chose to hold this moment for herself and herself alone. At for the moment. Although as days turned to weeks and the girls continued to enjoy their summer together Elizabeth did choose, about a month after their arrival, to bring Jane to her field.

"Lizzy, it is magnificent!" Jane declared after her sister had removed the ribbon, she had insisted on placing over Jane's eyes as soon as they had reached the oak trees. The older girl knew little of their destination when they set out being told only they were going somewhere special. When Elizabeth insisted on the makeshift blindfold to, as she put it, "enhance the effect" Jane had laughingly agreed. The sisters strolled hand in hand and Jane was just about able to express her appreciation for the beauty of the field to Elizabeth's satisfaction. They returned together a few times that summer. Elizabeth still went alone as well and occasionally she would remember the rider and his horse and hope to catch a glimpse.