Chapter One: First Meetings

"We are ruined," Mr. Bennett declared to his empty study. Or rather, to a study void of people, for it was filled with books, plants and curios he had picked up here and there during his lifetime. His study was his sanctuary, the one place even his wife needed a direct invitation if she wished to enter. The only person to whom received an open invitation was his second eldest daughter, Elizabeth, the only other person in the household whom he deemed his equal in wit and conversation.

However, those happy days spent discussing the importance of Chaucer and the Bard, or regaling each other with Mrs. Bennett's latest attack of nerves had dimmed and nothing but a bleak future seemed to be awaiting him.

Mr. Bennett gave a great sigh and poured himself his fourth tumbler of a dark amber liquid he kept on the side board. He downed the liquid in one swift gulp, winced as it burned down his throat, then brought the crystal decanter along with his glass, back to his desk where there lay an open ledger he had been going over, and which was the reason of his earlier declaration. He scanned the columns of numbers again, frowned, and poured himself another drink.

If only last year's harvest hadn't been blighted, or ten head of sheep hadn't died in the unseasonably cold winter. If only he hadn't put up this year's harvest as collateral in order to obtain seed. All the "if onlys" in the world floated through his head, but the biggest, and by far the worse, was the if only he had produced an heir.

It was true that his wife, Mrs. Bennett, had lamented of the fact on numerous occasions, especially when the estate's entailment was mentioned, or that of his cousin and his ability to produce a male heir. Mr. Bennett would usually laugh and shrug it off as if it was of no importance, but late at night, whilst in his study, going over the books and the estates meager earnings over the last few years, he began to whole heartedly agree with his wife, though he would never admit to it in public. He had managed to keep the estate afloat, using the profits from one year to buy all the seed and supply for the next, and to keeping the household sufficiently supplied for. But after a few years of bad weather and misfortunes, there simply was no money left.

After a half hour of drinking he finally felt sufficiently drunk to do what he knew he must do. He had to borrow money, probably at a high interest, in order to start over and look to Providence to handle the rest. He pulled out a piece of parchment, dipped his quill into the black ink, and wrote a letter to a bank in London he had heard of giving such loans. He asked for a sum of money he felt enough to get him through the next year, and then sealed it. It was much too late to post it, indeed all the household were asleep. He thought about taking one last drink, but decided against it. He had only a few more bottles left, and he was sure he would need the soothing comfort tomorrow night, for Mrs. Bennett was surely going to hear about his visit with one Mr. Bingley of Netherfield, a man he had adamantly refused to make his acquaintance with to his wife, only to see her squirm.

"Ah, dear Fan," he mumbled, as he leaned back in his chair, readying himself for a night alone in his study.

s-s-s

"Mr. Bingley, sir," Mrs. Hill said, then stepped aside for a tall, light complexioned gentleman to enter his study.

Mr. Bennett smiled, then motioned for the man to sit. Mr. Bingley smiled, and sat in the chair in front of the desk. The study was a bit more tidier than last night, Mr. Bennett having cleaned off his desk. He had had a shave, drank some coffee and managed to get some food down before his guest was due to arrive. Mr. Bennett wasn't usually as fastidious but he rarely made his acquaintance to a man of Mr. Bingley's standing.

"I hope you are enjoying your new home," Mr. Bennett said, sitting down himself.

"Yes," Mr. Bingley exclaimed, "the woods around here are simply…wonderful!"

Mr. Bennett smiled. "Will you be hunting much?"

"Yes, I believe there will be some hunting, but my main purpose here is to socialize with the…families of the neighborhood. I would like to make their acquaintance before purchasing Netherfield."

"Indeed," Mr. Bennett said, "and have you met many families?"

"Oh, yes, the Lucases were the first family I met and I made it a point to ask Sir William to be my liaison."

"Yes, I did receive his letter and hence my invitation to you."

"I plan on a large party from London soon, my sisters included." Mr. Bingley began rambling about various topics. It was all Mr. Bennett could do not to laugh. All this young man's nervous energy was wafting off him like steam from a pot of boiling water. Mr. Bennett was not immune to the gossip of the town that his daughters, all five of them, were uncommonly pretty and it was that which brought Mr. Bingley to Longbourn, and not the prospect of spending a late morning with an old man such as himself.

Smiling, he remembered the previous evening with his family. His wife and daughters talked nothing but of Mr. Bingley. What he must be like, his income, if he would marry in the neighborhood, and if so if it would be one of them. Mrs. Bennett had nearly had an apoplexy when she discovered Mr. Bennett had no intention of introducing himself to the young man. Oh, how he loved to twitch that woman's nerves. He couldn't avoid the inquisitive look from his Lizzy. He suspected she knew of his plans all along. She was by far too discerning for her own good.

"Still," he thought, "it would solve a lot of our problems if Mr. Bingley did marry one of my girls."

"Well, Mr. Bingley," Mr. Bennett said, standing up, "I have bored you enough with the blabbering of an old man. I am sure there are many other families in the neighborhood that await your arrival, and I bid you farewell."

Mr. Bingley looked crestfallen, a fact that did not pass over Mr. Bennett. He purposefully kept this young man from viewing his daughters. Let the gossip of their beauty be all he has until he has viewed every other young woman in the neighborhood, then, and only then, shall he see for himself.

"Uh, that is…" Mr. Bingley stammered as he was being ushered out of the house, "um, Mr. Bennett."

The sound of female chatter coming from the parlor drew Mr. Bingley's attention and he craned his neck to get a better look, but it was impossible. Mr. Bennett smiled, "Yes?" He asked.

Looking from the doorway of the parlor, then down at Mr. Bennett, he said, "Will you be attending the Assembly?"

"The Assembly?" Mr. Bennett paused, "No, I do not think so." He smiled when he saw Mr. Bingley's crestfallen expression. "But I do believe my wife and daughters shall be there."

Mr. Bingley looked up, all smiles. He took one last look towards the parlor, then bid Mr. Bennett a farewell, and taking his hat and gloves from Mrs. Hill, made his exit.

"That went rather well," Mr. Bennett mused as he made his way to the parlor.

Upon his entering the room his daughters bade him a good morning, but his wife sat mutely by the fire, sewing repairs to some white garment. Remembering the other night and her protestations of never speaking to him again, he smiled, knowing her curiosity would get the better of her. He sat in the chair opposite her and picked up the folded newspaper and began reading. Almost immediately his youngest daughters were speaking about Mr. Bingley.

"Pray tell who that was with you in your study?" Mrs. Bennett finally asked, probably to stop her daughters from speaking about a man she felt they should never be intimate with.

"Oh, you mean Mr. Bingley?" He asked, casting a sly look at Mrs. Bennett.

Mouth agape, she stared his disbelief. "Oh, my dear Mr. Bennett!" She exclaimed, the realization dawning on her of what his words meant. "Oh, you are a naughty man to tease me last night when you had every intention of making Mr. Bingley's acquaintance." Mrs. Bennett arose from her chair, and firmly planted a kiss on his forehead.

The next quarter of an hour was utter agony to Mr. Bennett, for his wife and daughters talked of nothing but what to wear to the Assembly, who might be his first choice to dance, etc, etc… Finally unable to take much more of their chatter he rose without any notice, and left the room. He made his way to his study and was about to close the door, hoping to spend the rest of the morning, and large part of the afternoon, in seclusion, before Elizabeth stopped him.

"What is it, Lizzy?" He asked, peeking at her from over his spectacles.

Elizabeth smiled, shaking her head at him. "Oh, Papa, I do not know why you vex her so."

Smiling in return, Mr. Bennett said, "Dear Lizzy, it is one of the few pleasures I have left. You will understand once you have been married twenty years."

Elizabeth laughed, placed her own kiss on her Father's forehead, then headed back to the parlor. As soon as she was out of site Mr. Bennett's smile was replaced with a frown. He held Elizabeth's esteem above all else, and he was terrified of her discovering his secret. Mrs. Bennett wasn't the only match maker in the family. No indeed. Ever since hearing of Mr. Bingley entering the neighborhood he had been scheming on how to place his daughters above all else and hoped a marriage would be the result.

Sighing he closed the door and took up a book he had borrowed from Sir William and began to read, though the words blurred as he thought of his family's future. The letter he wrote the previous night was posted that morning, and hoped by the end of the month receive the funds he needed in order to provide for his dear family. He dreaded to think what would happen to them if they had one more year of bad luck.

s-s-s

Elizabeth dearly loved the woods that abutted Longbourn, her Father's estate. Though they were technically on Sir William Lucas' land, he had no qualms about her traversing the woods and told her on numerous occasions, since purchasing the estate, that she was free to wander to her hearts content, however, watch out during hunting season.

Elizabeth smiled at the memory of Sir William's family establishing themselves at Lucas Lodge. He had preened as if he were a peacock, unable to hide his proud smile whenever someone addressed him as "Sir William." She had been quite young, only twelve or so, and had just made Charlotte's acquaintance who seemed, at the time, such a grown woman and felt humbled by her friendship.

Mrs. Bennett, however, was sorely disappointed that Sir William's family consisted of three girls, and only one boy, much too young for any of her daughters.

"There are already girls enough in the neighborhood!" She exclaimed, as if it were Sir William's doing.

Smiling, Elizabeth continued her morning walk, picking a bouquet of wild flowers near a stream, and marveling at the wonder of nature. The last few days her time out of doors increased for her Mother talked of nothing but that which revolved around the Assembly. Jane, having the best hands for sewing, was enlisted by Lydia to help her make over a dress for the Assembly, and therefore was forced to stay instead of accompany Elizabeth.

Walking along the stream she had a sudden thought of visiting Charlotte and quickened her pace to get to the road, but has she crested a small hill she saw a man down by the steam just on this side of the small bridge that connected the road. He was sitting on a boulder, his hat and a shoe cast aside, as he dipped a foot tentatively into the water. The neighing of his horse nearby, though not tethered, confused her.

Elizabeth had half a mind to turn around and return home. Her Mother hated her walking alone, especially in the woods where bandits or other such villainous characters might lurk, but other than the local young boys running wild she had never encountered anyone else. However, this man did seem to be a gentleman and perhaps in need of help. Lucas Lodge wasn't too far, perhaps she could sneak around him without being seen and alert Sir William.

Before Elizabeth had a chance to do either of her options, the man in question looked up and spotted her. "Excuse me!" He yelled, wincing as his foot touched the cool water. "I am in need of some assistance."

Taking a deep breath, and preparing herself to run at a moments notice, she cautiously made her way to the man. His hair was dark, and fell in waves across his forehead. His forehead shined with sweat and his face was contorted in pain, but other than that he was an extremely handsome man.

"How may I help you?" She asked, making sure to stand as far enough away that he could not reach out to her.

"Damn!" He exclaimed, pulling his foot out of the water. Elizabeth stared at the offending foot and noticed the swelling around his ankle. Instantly Elizabeth dropped her defenses and rushed towards the man.

"Oh my, that must hurt." She said.

"No, actually, it feels just fine." He muttered, dipping it once more into the cool, soothing water.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at his sarcasm and had half a mind to walk away from him, damn his predicament. He could very well rot here.

Just then the man looked up and seemed surprised for a moment. "I am sorry, but it hurts like the devil. Would you mind bringing my horse?"

Nodding her head, Elizabeth stepped tentatively to the white horse. He seemed slightly skittish. Elizabeth slowly raised her hand to the horse's neck, and gave it a few pats while whispering soothing words. Slowly her hand made its way up his neck and she grasped the rope attached to its bridle.

"Come on," she said, leading the horse to its master.

When she returned she saw that the man was staring at her, his face no longer marred by pain. She felt her heart skip a beat as his dark eyes appraised her from head to foot and back again.

"Is that all?" She asked, breaking the silence.

"No," he said, coming out of his trance. "I shall need your help. Please, come here."

Dropping the reins, Elizabeth stepped even more cautiously towards the man. He reached his hand out to her. She gave him her arm and helped as best she could as he made to stand up. He stumbled a moment, but Elizabeth managed to keep him up right, both arms wrapped around his waist.

"Thank you," he said, looking down at her.

She looked up into his dark eyes, seemingly endless pools of mystery. The neighing of the horse brought her back to the present and she released her grip on his waist instantly feeling heat creep up her neck and to her cheeks.

"Um, Lucas Lodge is no more than half a mile from here, perhaps we should get you there?"

"I was on my way to Netherfield, do you know how far that is?"

"Yes, it is about four miles down the road."

"I believe I shall head there." He reached for his horse's reins, and began to stumble as he put weight on his injured foot. Elizabeth reached out to him once again, the warmth of his body transferring to her own.

"Are you sure, sir?"

"Yes, quite. If you could just help me mount, I shall be fine."

A little awkward maneuvering, and Elizabeth managed to help the man atop his steed. He asked if she would mind retrieving his hat and shoe. After handing him his things, she couldn't help but smile at this man, one shoe on and one shoe off.

"Thank you again…" he paused.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennett." She said.

"Yes, thank you again Miss Elizabeth Bennett." Without giving her his own name he was off down the road, his horse kicking up dust.

"Well," Elizabeth thought, watching his departing back, "that was different."