Page 1 of Pride, Prejudice and Prudence

Chapter 1

“You are so beautiful, Jane,” Elizabeth said. Jane’s fair hair was styled in a chignon, with delicate curls framing her pretty face. Elizabeth did not think her own mop of dark hair would ever be able to be tamed in such a way.

“I wish I could stay at home with you,” her sister replied.

It was Jane’s coming out, and she was attending the Netherfield ball with her parents. Elizabeth had heard her cajole her mama many times to put it off until Elizabeth was fifteen and could join her. Jane said that she would not be so shy if Elizabeth were at her side, but her mother would not be moved. Jane had even gone so far as to appeal to her father, something she would never normally do, but to no avail. He said that daughters were entirely the responsibility of their mother and that he would not intervene. So, Jane was attending her first ball without her.

Jane pulled at the bodice of her gown. Elizabeth knew her sister would not wish to wear such an exceptionally low-cut dress. Jane had asked her mother to allow the modiste to add lace to cover some more of her bosom, but her mother would not allow it. Elizabeth was thankful that Jane’s figure was slim and she was not overly endowed– at least that meant that she did not have so much of her form on show. When Jane had asked for more lace, her mother had chosen to misinterpret the request. Mrs Bennet was of the belief that there was no such thing as too much lace. This had resulted in Jane being festooned in layers of the intricate fabric, resulting in her looking lost in the creation.

“Make haste, my dear,” their mother called to Jane. “Don’t allow Miss Lizzy to make us tardy,” she instructed. “In truth, you should get to your bed, Lizzy,” her mother charged, and Elizabeth nodded, acknowledging her mother’s command.

“I will wait up for you,” she whispered to her sister, giving Jane a quick hug before she ran off to her own bedchamber, as Jane turned in the opposite direction and joined her mother at the foot of the stairs.

Elizabeth’s bedchamber was to the front of Longbourn, the white limestone manor house which was home to the Bennet family. The house sat back from the pathway, bordered by oak trees which guided the eye to the entrance of their home. Elizabeth sat at the window, listening as her mother fussed downstairs and her father made sardonic comments. From Jane, she could hear not a word, and she was sure that this was due to Jane remaining entirely silent.

Elizabeth watched as the family carriage pulled up, and her father exited the house. Jane followed him, now wrapped in her purple velvet pelisse, which Elizabeth had to admit complemented her lilac dress. Her mother took up the rear, calling instructions to John, the coachman, as she exited the house, and Elizabeth was momentarily surprised by the similarity in features between her mother and Jane. Her father helped Jane into the carriage, and then he assisted their mother. He then turned to step inside himself and, on spotting Elizabeth at the window of her bedchamber, gave her a jaunty wave before the door closed behind him. Elizabeth had gained much of her appearance from her father’s side of the family; her dark locks were entirely a match for his, but thankfully, she had inherited her mother’s delicate nose, she thought.

Elizabeth remained curled up in the window seat of her room, reading of the blunders of Evelina and her history of a young lady’s entrance into the world. The novel by Fanny Burney was most amusing, but Elizabeth noticed that she had read the same page five or six times, so she gave up and put it down. Her mind instead travelled to Jane, to her first ball at Netherfield Park.

Netherfield was the grandest house in the environs of Meryton, the market town of which Longbourn was the closest manor house. Netherfield Park was the home of the Stanleys. Mr Stanley was old; Elizabeth thought he might even be one-and-sixty, and his wife was not much his junior. They had one son, Rupert Stanley. Elizabeth thought he was closer in age to her father than any other single man in Meryton. She had heard her mother speculate that Jane would make him a fine wife. Elizabeth had shuddered at the thought of her beautiful sister, only just gone fifteen, tied to such an old man. She shook the thoughts away; she was sure her father would never allow such a thing.

Finally, having given herself sufficient time to think about Jane and the ball, she was able to return to her book. Thus, she remained for above three hours, until hearing the unexpectedly early return of the Bennet carriage.

She watched, waiting to see Jane exit the carriage, in expectation of the grand tale of her first ball. Instead, she saw her father, highlighted in the oil lamps which festoon the entrance to Longbourn. His face was a mask of anger. Elizabeth was shocked; she had never seen such a look on his face before. She watched as he helped her mother out of the carriage. Her mother looked very odd, and Jane was wrapped in her arms. She could not see Jane’s face as it was hidden in her mama’s shoulder. Elizabeth dropped her book and sprinted from her room to the entrance of Longbourn, arriving as Hill opened the door, and her parents and Jane walked inside.

Chapter 2

“Jane,” Elizabeth cried, running to her sister. Jane, who had been crying in her mother’s arms, turned into Elizabeth’s hug instead as her mother released her to her younger sister’s care. Her mother turned her head to Hill even as she continued into the drawing room, herding her daughters before her.

“Bring some hot chocolate for Miss Jane and Miss Lizzy, please,” her mother instructed.

“And some brandy for your mistress and myself,” her father added.

Jane tried to reassure Elizabeth that all was well, but her words were barely a whisper and were interrupted by weeping and hiccupping, which made it impossible for Elizabeth to understand much at all. Hill came with the hot chocolate and wine, and Jane drank the chocolate with her sister’s encouragement.

“You go on up to bed now,” her mother instructed Elizabeth once Jane had stopped crying. Elizabeth did not move, determined to fight this maternal edict, and she was aided in her battle by Jane’s unwillingness to release her hand.

“Leave her be,” her father said, and her mother looked as if she would argue, but her father went on. “She will only tell Lizzy later,” he explained, “and the story could then easily be overheard by any of her younger sisters, I believe,” he said, looking from Elizabeth to her mother, “that she is mature enough to understand to keep what she is told to herself.”

He waited her mother’s assent, as did Elizabeth. When her mother nodded, Jane slowly began to speak, her words halting and quiet.

“It was so beautiful, Lizzy,” she said, her voice quiet and sad. “The ballroom was lit up, near to daylight, with lamps and candles, and the fireplaces were all alight too,” she said. “The ladies were dressed in so many shades, it was as if a rainbow had come to life,” and for a moment her voice gained in strength. “The music,” she said, “oh Lizzy, you have never heard such fine music. Mr Stanley...,” she said, and then halted, and a cry escaped her, which she suppressed with a hiccup. “Mr Stanley,” she repeated, “brought a full quartet to play,” she told her. “They played such music as I had never heard before, and all our neighbours looked so fine, it was as if we were all at court,” she said, and Elizabeth listened, her eyes wide in wonder at the description. Jane then looked at her parents and took a deep breath.

“I danced from the very first set until we were near to the supper set,” she said, and took another breath. “I was fair ready to faint with fatigue,” she explained, and looked at their parents. “So, I thought to take a break from the dancing by sitting for a few minutes in the library.” At this, she stopped speaking, her face turned down, and tears were dripping from her eyes.

“It is all right, my dear,” her father confirmed, “you have done nothing wrong.”

“Mr Stanley junior followed me to the library,” she said, in a near whisper, and she stopped a moment and looked to her father. Elizabeth did not know what she was waiting for, but her father looked at her mother, who nodded. He raised a hand to his chin, contemplating her, and finally, he gave the nod that Jane had been waiting for.

“He came all close to me,” Jane said, a frown and look of anger appeared, such as Elizabeth had rarely seen on her most serene sister’s face, and she held her breath. She wondered what had the beastly man done to her lovely sister?

Elizabeth was unaware, but the fierce expression that she now held must have given her sister comfort. Jane was the elder of the two, but Elizabeth was the braver. If she had been there, she would have hit him over the head with a book, she thought, and if she saw him now, she still would.

“I backed away from him,” she said, looking to their parents, as if trying to reassure them. “But,” she paused before saying in a voice so quiet Elizabeth could barely hear her, “he kept coming closer to me.” Elizabeth noticed she was clutching her sister’s hand so tightly that it had near gone white, so she made her grip gentler but did not let go, and Jane continued to speak. “Then I was at the very wall of the library,” she said. Jane took another deep breath and looked at Elizabeth most earnestly. “I do not know what would have become of me if it were not that Mama and Papa came, at just that moment, and saved me,” she said, and turned a look of deep gratitude onto her parents.

“Thank you, Mama,” she said. “Thank you, Papa.”

“Do not thank us, Jane,” her father said, his voice grave. “It is I, and your mother, who put you in such danger, my dear,” he said. “I am heartily ashamed of myself, and I vow that we will do better by you girls.”