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The 23^rd of December, 1804 - Longbourn,  Hertfordshire

Having been recently made aware that she was to be out of the schoolroom come the New Year, Miss Jane Bennet was at a turning point in her life. Despite her usual cheerful humour, she could not quite feel herself equal to being considered eligible for marriage – her retiring nature made it a daunting prospect to think of courting in the public eye. At fifteen, she had begun to understand the pressure she and her sisters were under to make good matches. Naturally shy, she wished – quite irrationally – that she could meet her future husband without being gawked at in an assembly room. She was however cheered by the recent arrival of dear guests. Her uncle, Mr Edward Gardiner, had brought his new bride to Longbourn for the Christmas season.  Mrs Gardiner was a young woman of fashion, who made fast friends with the two eldest Bennet daughters.  With her came her sister, who was Mr Gardiner’s ward following the passing of both her parents in quick succession. The younger girl – for she was not yet out, closer in age with Jane’s sister Lizzy than with Jane herself – was bold and quick-witted. Jane could already tell that she and Lizzy would be lifelong friends, and pitied whoever would cross – or attempt to court! – either of them. Their party was to be completed by Mrs Gardiner’s brother, who was to arrive from Harrow by post before dinner.   

Jane set her embroidery down, and looked up to the pianoforte, where Lizzy and her friend had been practicing Christmas carols for several hours. As they finished their latest rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas, Jane could hear her father and uncle enter Longbourn, followed by the echoes of heavy luggage hitting the floor.

- “… Hills will send your mall up to your room. The ladies are in the drawing room, lad, come and meet them – tired as you are, you might as well fall asleep and drown in your bath, and then they’d be forever deprived of the pleasure of your company. ”

The three girls could now clearly hear the conversation, and looked up. Their new guest was handsome, or rather held the promise of future handsomeness, as boys yet growing into men often do. Jane found herself blushing as two pairs of blue eyes met.

- “Charles! It has been much too long!”

Caroline sprung from her seat by the pianoforte and ran across the room to embrace her brother. He never stopped staring at Jane even as he enfolded his sister into his snow-covered arms.

- “Won’t you introduce me to your friends, Caroline?”

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August 2nd, 1830

Anne Wentworth had always been a light sleeper, especially when she was worried. And worried she was, for her husband had not yet come back to their townhouse by the time she went to bed. This was most unlike him, and even more out of character that he had not sent word. He would usually be back in time for Freddie and Sophie to go up to bed, if not before the younger children’s bedtime. He was an ever-attentive father, and was especially keen to spend time with his eldest son, who was to leave shortly for Eton. Having himself had to make his education at sea, he was quite proud that his sons would be afforded the chance of a public school education.

Anne realized that she had been awoken by footsteps coming from the nursery. She sat up in bed to find her husband leaning against the doorframe, and staring pensively at her. The light from the lone candle held in his hand reflected on the gold of his uniform’s buttons. Frederick’s rumpled cravat was the only testament to the length of his day, his uniform otherwise immaculate.  He walked over the bed, set the candle down on the bedside table, and sat down on the edge of the bed. He had yet to speak. Anne set one hand on one of his broad shoulders, and carded the other through the hair at the nape of his neck.

- “What is the matter, my love? Is anything amiss?”

- “I apologize for my lateness, I was held up by the Admiralty. Were the children very distraught? I hate to think – ”

- “Freddie was too perceptive by half, as ever, but the younger children were distracted easily enough. I hate to press you, but Frederick, what is wrong?”

- “King Charles was run out of Paris by an uprising a few days ago – ”

- “I know about this, but surely the Prime Minister – ”

- “Wellington is as worried as any of us, Anne. The French are pushing for Orléans to take the crown – Orléans, who was seen embracing Lafayette! The very same Lafayette who was a figurehead for the uprising that lost us the Thirteen Colonies. Wellington, the Admiralty… All fear that another war with France is looming. ”

- “And what would another war mean for you? And why would you hear this from their mouth? Surely, as commodore, you place is with your captains.”

- “I won’t be commodore for much longer, Anne. I’m to be promoted to vice-admiral.”

- Jumping over rear-admiral? It is no more than you deserve, of course, but I expect some rear-admirals might be unhappy.”

- “They will certainly be, but I will do my duty, and ignore their whispers as best as I can. But Anne – if it does come to war, you cannot accompany me this time, not with the children.”

- “Let us leave any arguing for later, husband. It is closer to dawn than to dusk – come to bed.”

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Colonel Brandon was a regular visitor at Mrs Jennings’ London house – or rather, he was a regular visitor at Marianne’s current residence. Oh, Elinor was being uncharitable to word it so, for the Colonel, despite being faced daily with Marianne’s refusals to see anyone, stayed for a full half-hour every morning. He made conversation with Mrs Jennings, and with Elinor herself. He spoke of his travels with the army, of his estate, but most of all, he and Elinor spoke of books. As days came and went, he took greater advantage of the intimacy between the households, and extended his visiting hours. He could often be found at their breakfast table, at Mrs Jennings urging, and yet his chief companion remained Elinor.

On this day, however, a different caller held Elinor’s attention. Sitting across from Edward, and having just relayed to him the Colonel’s offer of a living at Delaford, she found to her great surprise that she no longer had any longing for Edward. She was still fond of him, of course – how could one not be fond of Edward? – but he no longer held her heart. When had this come about? Elinor had always seen herself as faithful and unchanging in her affections – but where was the honour in being unchanging in affections so unequal as theirs, maybe not in nature but in commitment? Edward had never – could never have, in truth – intended to wed her. And if she was to be fully honest, at least within her own mind, she could admit that she had spent much time comparing Edward to the Colonel during their discussion, and finding him wanting.

After Edward’s departure, she sat on the settee, and stared at the pale London morning sun coupled to the dust floating above the wooden floor, creating a fascinating game of lights and shadows. She at last realized how much her path and Marianne’s had run parallel to one another in last year. Both had fallen in love, both had been tricked – the only difference was in their own natures, and in their own reactions to disappointment. And Marianne, of course, would not remain disappointed for long. Once she was feeling better – and that would come soon, surely, for she was sitting down at breakfast with Mrs Jennings presently – she was bound to realize how good of a match the Colonel would be. Elinor could only hope that Marianne would not break his heart, for a man of his kindness and honour deserved better than to be forever second-best. For her part, Elinor could only hope that she would one day find a man she should would like half as well as she liked her sister’s suitor.

The sound of footsteps, followed by the opening of the parlour door, interrupted her musings.

- “The Colonel Brandon is here, Miss Dashwood.”

- “It is a pleasure to see you, Colonel. Marianne is much better today, and has come down to take her breakfast with Mrs Jennings. They would be happy to you to join them, if you wish.”

- “I am very glad to hear that Miss Marianne fares better, Miss Dashwood, but you are the one I had hoped to see.” He paused, and looked at the sun coming through the window. “I have acquired a copy of Rousseau’s Discourse on Inequality, and I was wondering if you might wish to read it together. I have not read it since I was your age, and I expect my outlook on it might have changed. “ He paused again, and smiled at Elinor. “ My outlook on other things in life has changed much in those years, after all.”

Elinor stepped forward, the light hitting her face and making her blue eyes sparkle as the sea on a bright summer day.

- “It would be my pleasure, Colonel. I am certain we will have much to discuss.”

Chapter Text

Miss Sophia Wentworth was bored. Her brothers were out – most likely pelting each other with snowballs – and her mother was busy with the baby. She could join Clara in the nursery, but their governess was attempting to teach her to read, and Sophia had no desire to be enlisted as her helper. She could practice the pianoforte, or attempt to read Cendrillon again, or work on the handkerchief she was embroidering for her father – all productive ways to pass the time, but neither a solution to her boredom. Sophia would much rather pretend to be a pirate and hit Ned and Freddie with a wooden sword, but she had sprained her ankle in one of their games last week. The sprain was bad enough that Sophia has to be off her feet for weeks, preventing her from joining her brothers in their expedition through the garden.

Suddenly, she heard two sets of rapid footsteps going up the servants’ stairs to the drawing room, followed by the tell-tale click of the door.

- “You won’t believe what Father brought back, Sophy! He got us an evergreen tree, just like Good Queen Charlotte’s! It’s so big, and so green.”

- “I wonder how he’ll get it up to the public rooms,” interjected Freddie. “It’s easily as wide as the door, and even taller.”

She could hear a few voices down in the kitchen, likely also discussing the tree. Their mother appeared through the doorway, peaking down the stairs. She was wearing a fashionable dark green dress, and as was her custom when they were not expecting visitors, had left her hair up but uncovered. Sophia couldn’t discern what was said from the kitchen, but could hear her mother’s answering laugh.

***

The tree was successfully brought up to the drawing room that very night, and Sophia’s father insisted on their decorating the tree themselves, without help from the servants. Clara has attached herself to Freddie and was soon using his shoulders as a perch to put ornaments on the tree’s highest branches, while Ned was trying to get Elliot to crawl by luring him with bright holly berries. Her mother had just gone up to her room to fetch a book she had recently received from the Benwicks.

Her father leaned over the sofa’s back to drop a kiss on her head.

- “Would you like to put the angel at the top of the tree, Sophia?”

She frowned.

- “How could I? I can hardly walk, let alone climb a ladder.”

Without warning, her father dropped the angel on her lap and scooped her up. Despite being well into his forties, Frederick Wentworth was still strong and fit, and could easily lift his twelve-year-old daughter high enough to allow her to place the angel at the top of the fir tree. Her mother walked in just as Sophia was securing the ornament on the highest branch.

- “Did you find the story book, Mama?” asked Clara.

-“I did, my love. It’s a brand new tale,” she added, turning to Sophia. “I understand you were getting tired of Perreault.”

- “Is this going to be more exciting than Cendrillon? ”

- “And are there magical mice? That is the best part in Cendrillon”, asked Freddie.

- “I am not certain whether there is any mice at all in the story, although there is likely magic of some kind. It is the story of a little girl named Marie -- ”

- “Can you call her Clara instead? Like me?”

- “… the story of a little girl named Clara, and her brother Freddie.”

They sat down, Sophia and Ned on a sofa with Elliot between them, Freddie and Clara lying down on the tick rug near the evergreen tree, and their parents on the other sofa, their father’s arm around their mother’s shoulders. He peaked at the book.

- “It is in German”. He was surprised.

- “I do not believe it has been translated yet – besides, Sophy was bored with French”. She smiled mischievously at her eldest daughter, then started reading. “It was the day before Christmas. Freddie and Clara sat huddled together in a back room, for they had been forbidden to go near the living room or drawing room. Freddie was whispering very secretly to Clara. ‘Early this morning’, he told her, ‘I heard all kind of noises – rustling of paper and pounding behind the locked rooms.’ Also, he confided to her, ‘I saw a small, dark man, with a large box under his arm, glide noiselessly through the hall.’… ”

Chapter Text

Somewhere near Paris, December 2^nd, 2024

Anne was in a rush. The conference she was attending was starting in less than 15 minutes, and she still needed to get her badge from the registration desk. She had made it to the Gare de l’Est after midnight, several hours after she had planned to arrive – thank you, Deutsche Bahn – and it took her almost two hours to make it to her hotel, in the suburbs near the venue. After a short night of sleep, she was now carefully making her way through the icy streets to the hotel hosting the meeting. She was texting her friend Elizabeth as she walked.

Can you save me a seat? I might not make it in time.

Of course! Do you want me to grab you some breakfast?

Yes, thank you. You’re the best <3

Although Elizabeth and Anne were both from England, they had met in Munich, where they were both pursuing doctoral degrees at the Max Planck Institute. They had bonded over their shared love of travel, arts, and science, and their shared frustration with their families. Elizabeth’s mother would rather her daughter had pursued a more traditional path and settled down, while Anne’s father endlessly complained about her being too far away to support him – both families discounting the facts that Elizabeth and Anne were adults, and supporting themselves through their degrees without any financial contribution from their respective parents. They were both attending the same conference, but Elizabeth had made it to Paris the previous Friday, and spent the weekend with her fiancé’s sister Georgiana. Anne, on the other hand, had spent her Saturday boxing up the last of her ex-boyfriend William’s things and dropping them off at his apartment. William had been her first relationship since her break-up with Frederick, which was a consequence of her move to the continent for her MSc. She would have described her relationship with William as a rebound, if it was not ridiculous to call it a rebound five years after her previous relationship. Fred still had one year of his bachelor’s degree left in Liverpool when Anne finished hers: he had to take a lighter course load, as he was working while completing his degree. Moving a thousand kilometers away from his family was not a viable option, let alone before he graduated. Anne, on the other hand, was excited to pursue her studies, away from her father and sisters’ influence. 

Anne walked up to the registration desk at 9 sharp, and lost a few additional minutes looking for her badge, which had mistakenly been filed under A’s rather than E’s – it seemed that whoever sorted them had assumed Elliot was her first name. She carefully opened the door and looked around for Elizabeth. She was sitting close to the middle of the room, with the promised empty seat – with coffee, bread, and cheese – by the aisle. Looking at the podium, it appeared that Anne had only missed the opening remarks, and the first speaker was setting up his laptop. 

- “There are some slight changes to the program,” whispered Elizabeth. “The opening reception has been moved to the hotel lobby because of the snow – I still don’t know why they thought the courtyard was an option in December – and we have a longer lunch break because this afternoon’s second speaker was unable to make it. This morning’s invited speaker also bailed – “

Anne looked at the podium, frowning. The speaker was now facing the back wall, while the session chair was adjusting his lapel microphone. 

- “But Elinor is the second speaker today – “

- “I’m getting to it, Anne! His grad student filled in last minute, and he’ll give the talk. We chatted a bit in line for registration, and he’s staying at the same hotel as you, so I suggested that we grad lunch together.”

The presenter’s slides appeared on the screen, and the room quieted down. Anne turned her attention to the podium once more, and startled. Frederick Wentworth was standing behind the podium, and staring right at her.

Chapter Text

Elinor had made it to Vermont for the holidays less than 24 hours ago, and she could already remember why she had moved to New York. Within one day, her mother had already asked for her help with the bakery’s finances – how she managed during the year, Elinor had no idea – and Marianne had made several remarks about her love life. The fact that Christopher would only join them on the 23^rd, as the final for the class he was teaching was on the evening of the 22^nd, only made things worse. Marianne kept complaining that Elinor deserved better – better than what, exactly, was not however entirely clear. Margaret had been a breath of fresh air. Although she was as self-centered as most teenagers, she had at least refrained from commenting on Elinor’s life choices.

Despite those hiccups, Elinor was genuinely glad to see her family. She was on her way to the local coffee shop, where she was to meet Marianne. She glanced at her phone while walking, and saw that she had a message from Christopher. As she was looking down to open it, she bumped into someone.

- “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!”

- “No, no, it’s all my fault, I’m so – Elinor? Is that you?”

Standing right in front of her was her high school sweetheart, Edward Ferrars. The two of them had started dating around Christmas in their junior year and had remained a couple until about a year into college. They had tried a long-distance relationship when Elinor had moved down to New York for her degree, but their relationship had fizzled out.

- “Hello, Edward,” she smiled. “How are you? It’s been so long!”

- “Ah... yes, it’s much too long. I’m well.” He looked down. “But how are you? I wasn’t expecting to see you back in town.”

- “I’m just visiting Mom and my sisters,” she explained and looked around. “I arrived yesterday. I must admit I’d forgotten how pretty Main Street gets in Winter.”

- “It’s beautiful, you’re right”, replied Edward. “You know Marianne and I kept in touch – I was just about to meet her for coffee, where are you going? Maybe we can walk together.”

Edward and Marianne? That was a surprise to Elinor: last she’d heard, Edward was engaged to Kitty Bennet, a local girl a few years his junior. But it was not a bad match, as both Edward and her sister were romantic, idealistic, and, she thought uncharitably, not overly practical people.

- “What a coincidence! Marianne had just asked me to meet her at the coffee shop, I didn’t know you would be there as well.” Edward looked down and blushed. “Of course, let’s walk together.”

They chatted pleasantly for a few minutes as they walked down the street. Elinor was struck by how unchanged Edward was, as kind and charmingly awkward as he had been a decade ago. He opened the door for her as they walked into the coffee shop, finding Marianne already seated at a table close to the window. They took off their coats and walked up to the register. Edward ordered.

- “I’ll get two London Fogs, please.”

-“Actually, can you please make that a peppermint mocha and a London Fog? Thank you.”

- “A mocha? Since when do you drink coffee?”

- “Oh, I don’t know, since undergrad? I usually just get lattes, but seasonal drinks are fun too”. She turned to the cashier. “I’ll pay by card, please.”

- “Oh, I could get your drink!”

- “Thank you, but there’s really no need.” She smiled politely at Edward, and waited for him to pay before heading back to their table.

As they talked for the next hour – or more accurately, as Marianne talked, Edward asked her follow up questions, and Elinor listened – a few things became clear to Elinor. One, Marianne and Edward were not together. In fact, they mostly kept in touch through occasional and accidental meet-ups at the coffee shop or at her mother’s bakery. Two, Edward was not engaged to Kitty Bennet. They had dated in the last year, but the relationship had gone nowhere. Third – and really, Elinor should have expected this – Marianne had arranged this coffee date specifically to get Elinor and Edward to reconnect. Fourth, Edward was most definitely interested in rekindling their relationship.

Edward left first, after asking Elinor for her phone number – she still had the same number, and told him so. Once he had gone, Marianne turned to her.

- “Well? Aren’t you glad I invited him?”

- “It was good to hear from him,” started Elinor, “and it is good to leave things on a good note.”

- “To leave things on a good note? What do you mean, leave things on a good note – there’s nothing to leave, he was clearly interested in getting back together with you!”

- “He might be interested, Marianne, but I am not. Even I wasn’t with Christopher, I wouldn’t be. I don’t live here, and a long-distance relationship is not in my plans.”

- “You can move back here, Mom needs help with the accounting – you could use your degree! And James is not even here now, he works all the time and doesn’t care about you or your family.”

Elinor had rarely been so angry with her sister.

- “That’s enough, Marianne. I don’t even know where to start – I studied pure maths, not accounting. And Christopher does care. He cares about my wishes, and my plans for the future, and my priorities. He knows me, not as a teenager but as a grown woman. And no matter what you think, I’m not going to throw away a life I love – with a loving partner who shares my goals and my values, in a city I love, doing the job I always dreamed of – to move back home to get back together with my high school sweetheart and run a bakery. Life is not a Hallmark movie, Marianne.”

Chapter Text

Pemberley

Pemberley is a stately house in Derbyshire, England. It is located 5 km south of Chatsworth and 4 km north-west of Matlock. There is evidence of settlements in the park dating back to at least the Bronze Age, with the well-known Nine Ladies Stone Circle within the domain’s limits. It is located close to the River Derwent. The domain is the present seat of the Duke of Devonshire, and has been the property of the Darcy family since the Norman Conquest. The present owner is Arthur Cavendish-Darcy, 13th Duke of Devonshire.

History
The first mention of a manor house at Pemberley’s current location is made in the Domesday Book of 1086 as “a wooden dungeon atop a moat” built by Richard (or Ricard) D’Arcy, a Norman knight rewarded for his service at the battle of Hastings.  The first stone manor was built between 1123 and 1154, although the exact construction date is not know. The second manor house became known as Pierres Brûlées or Prés Brûlés (later anglicised as Pemberley) following the destruction of the first manor house and the neighbouring fields in the winter of 1154-1155.  Only the late roman chapel remains of the medieval manor.

The present manor house was built from 1693 to 1702, concurrently with Chatsworth House, which it greatly resembles in style. Some mentions have been made of Pemberley being built out of excess material from the construction at Chatsworth ^{[reference needed]}. The present house was expanded in size by Fitzwilliam Cavendish-Darcy, 7th Duke of Devonshire, in 1868. The extension doubled the size of the house but preserved the same style as the late 17th century building, making it one of the few English manor houses having significantly increased in size after the industrial revolution.

…

Notable owners  
Although wealthy, the Darcys were part of the landed gentry and were generally not involved in politics until the 18th century, although there are a few exceptions (see e.g. James Darcy, 1606-1673). Women of the Darcy family frequently married into English nobility, with notable examples being Philippa Plantagenet (née D’Arcy), Margaret Cavendish (née Darcy), and Elizabeth Talbot (née Darcy).

The Darcys became a political powerhouse in Derbyshire starting in the mid-18th century with a series of marriages between the Darcys, the Cavendishes and the Fitzwilliams (see Earldom of Matlock). Ambrose Darcy wed Lady Georgiana Cavendish in 1758; the only issue from their union is George Darcy, born in 1759. Lady Georgiana was the eldest daughter of William Cavendish, 4th Duke of Devonshire, and the only child from his first marriage. George Darcy married Lady Anne Fitzwilliam in 1785. Their eldest son, Fitzwilliam Cavendish Darcy was born the same year, followed by Georgiana Darcy in 1797. Their marriage was notably unhappy, and Georgiana Darcy was at times rumoured to be the child of William Cavendish, 5th Duke of Devonshire (officially her paternal granduncle), who was identified by several contemporary authors as having a long-term affair with Lady Anne Darcy ^{[reference needed]}. Lady Anne’s brother, Edward Fitzwilliam, 6th Earl of Matlock, was married in 1779 to Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, the youngest child of William Cavendish, 4th Duke of Devonshire.

Fitzwilliam Darcy inherited Pemberley in 1806; beyond this information, there is little record of the first three decades of his life. He married Elizabeth Bennet in 1813. Their marriage was the subject of much discussion among the Ton, as documented by extensive correspondence from several private collections. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy became public figures in 1816, when Fitzwilliam Darcy became the 6th Duke of Devonshire following the death of both William Cavendish, 5th Duke of Devonshire, and his only legitimate son in a carriage accident. Fitzwilliam Darcy’s voting record in the House of Lords clearly shows his Whig sympathies, in line with the positions of the previous Duke of Devonshire. Elizabeth Darcy became a well-known political hostess, with her salon at Darcy House in London having a reputation equal to that of Holland House. Her daughter Elizabeth kept the practice when she became Countess of Matlock in 1839.

Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy had five children: Fitzwilliam Cavendish-Darcy (7th Duke of Devonshire), Edward Cavendish-Darcy (second Governor General of Canada, from 1871 to 1882), Lady Elizabeth Fitzwilliam (née Cavendish-Darcy), Charles Cavendish-Darcy, and Lady Georgiana Wellesley (née Cavendish-Darcy).