by M-C Ranger
M-C Ranger
From Longbourn
to Pemberley
Autumn 1810
Volume 1
Translate from French (Quebec)
by Karen Caruana
From Longbourn to Pemberley
Volume 1 Autumn 1810
Volume 2 Winter 1810-1811
Volume 3 Spring 1811
Volume 4 Summer 1811
Volume 5 Autumn 1811
This is a work of fiction based on the novels by English novelist Jane Austen.
Most of the characters, several events and a certain number of phrases in this story are from the works of Jane Austen. Some characters, as well as all other plot twists are products of the author’s imagination. Any similarities with real persons or events are therefore unintended.
Watercolour on the cover: copyright © 2015 JIGER
From Longbourn to Pemberley: copyright © 2017 M-C Ranger
Translation copyright © 2019 Karen Caruana
To my mother
who taught me that
I would never be alone
when surrounded by books
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Miss Jane Austen
would most certainly
be surprised
to learn that
Elizabeth Bennet,
Fanny Price,
Anne Elliot,
Elinor Dashwood
have happened
upon each other
on the various paths
connecting
Longbourn to Pemberley
Foreword
Pride, prejudice, sense, sensibility, persuasion… It is with great finesse and a healthy dose of humour that Jane Austen analysed the various circumstances under which her characters developed. For each of her stories, she invented a little world that she delicately sculpted in meticulous detail, exposing how the landed gentry of her era lived and behaved. What she could not have foreseen is that one day, several of the characters in her novels would meet and intervene where they were not expected… Let us take a moment to reassure the author that they will not escape the destiny she had imagined for them. It is important to note that the true creator of this little world was and remains Jane Austen. From Longbourn to Pemberley is therefore nothing more than a simple tribute (yet another) to this collection of work that was the source of endless hours of joy to the person who took great pleasure in writing this book.
At the start of this story, we find ourselves in Hertfordshire in 1810, and we are following the uncertainties of life in Longbourn. Specifically, we are preoccupied by the fact that when one has, as does Mrs. Bennet, five daughters to be married, who, as it were, have no dowry, there is good reason to make this one’s obsession. And this is the case for Mrs. Bennet, as it is for plenty of other mothers for whom competition is fierce, the marriage market being one of the most competitive there is.
The story opens in the midst of a melodrama: a new tenant has moved into the area. Naturally, he is rich, charming and a bachelor. He has even accepted an invitation to the ball that is about to take place. As the stakes are high, we can imagine the degree of speculation and strategies being plotted by many of the women of Meryton. It is at precisely this moment that our story begins.
However, it is important to point out that in stories such as this, the arrival of strangers, particularly if they are rich and unwed, is not without consequence on the fate of the women concerned. We will thus follow, closely and from afar, Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty and Lydia Bennet, as well as several other characters who cross their paths and who put in their tuppence worth regarding the daily lives of civilised England.
Autumn 1810
Chapter I
In which we must admit
that on occasion, Mrs. Bennet
can be right, particularly
with regards to the beauty
of her eldest daughter
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or the other of their daughters. This is exactly how Mrs. Long, Mrs. Harrington, Lady Lucas and almost all the other women at this charming gathering viewed the situation. But it appeared that the one who was most fiercely convinced of this fact was Mrs. Bennet. It was entirely understandable; she was one of few who had five daughters to marry. She should therefore have been excused for her eagerness, considering that most of these ladies had only one or two daughters. This was clearly not the case, and, over the course of the entire evening, one could see many glances and little comments being exchanged, sometimes acrimoniously, between the different members of the fairer sex of all of Meryton. Fortunately, everyone indulged in the simple pleasure of gossip, for it seemed that Hertfordshire had never seen the likes in matters such as this. In any case, of this Mr. Bennet was quite certain.
‘My dear sister, that is my nephew James whom you see over there. Mr. John Thorpe, one of his Oxford fellows, is with him. The latter came with his sister, the young woman to his right. Isn’t she pretty?’ asked Mrs. Philips.
‘James Morland, I haven’t seen him in quite a while, he seems well educated. You must congratulate your sister-in-law on my behalf. I thought that Catherine was coming to stay?’
‘Oh! She shall be coming next week as planned. You will see her at your place. She wrote to tell me that she was pleased to be coming and that she can’t wait to see your daughters again.’
‘What is the name of this young woman whom James seemingly cannot let out of his sight?’ interrupted Mrs. Bennet. ‘I must confess that I do not at all like her manners. And you say that she is pretty. Not as much as my Jane, I’m sure!’
‘No, no, don’t worry yourself,’ reassured her sister, who, not having a daughter, was Mrs. Bennet’s strongest ally. ‘That is Miss Isabella Thorpe; we met her this afternoon when her brother came to join James at the house.’
‘If she arrived today, she will not have been able to be presented to the people of Netherfield,’ stated Mrs. Bennet, somewhat relieved but still keeping a close eye on the situation. ‘You know how Mr. Bennet enjoys tormenting me; he told me that he would not present himself to Mr. Bingley. ‘‘You therefore have no sympathy for my poor nerves’’ I told him, and do you know what he said in return? That I was mistaken and that he had the biggest respect for my nerves, for he has listened to me talk about my nerves for more than twenty years! What do you think about that?’
Mrs. Philips smiled kindly, without answering. It must be noted that she did not really understand Thomas Bennet and did not really like the blend of sarcastic humour and reserve that were her sister’s husband’s key character traits. If twenty-three years were not enough for Fanny Bennet to understand her better half, then Mrs. Philips could disregard him; something that she had already been doing for quite some time.
Mrs. Bennet was perhaps right in paying attention to the situation of Isabella Thorpe. In any case, she was not the only one watching her. Lydia and Kitty were unabashedly looking at her, making no attempt to hide their admiration, so impressed were they by her airs of a fashionable and self-confident young woman.
‘Good heavens! I would love to look like Miss Thorpe! Did you see, Kitty, how lovely her dress is and how well she is coiffed, I am sure I’ve seen similar attire in La Belle Assemblée at Miss Watson’s!’
&nb
sp; ‘It’s true that she has a hint of something different. And it attracts the eye, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, the eyes of all the young men, and those of James Morland especially! We had better return to our friends, otherwise they will all end up under the spell of this new arrival,’ replied Lydia, a hint of envy in her voice, pulling her sister along.
The evening was in full swing. Charlotte had the distinct honour of being the first to be asked to dance by Mr. Bingley; this didn’t seem to bother anyone. It should be noted that the oldest of the Lucas, an utterly adequate young woman of almost twenty-seven, could not dream to rival the beauty of some other well-born young women. Naturally, Lady Lucas’s heart beat faster for a few moments, but a comment made by her friend Mrs. Long quickly brought her back to reality. The latter stated that everything here was a matter of etiquette: Sir Lucas had been the first to present himself at Netherfield Park and to invite Mr. Bingley to this gathering.
‘In fact, I agree with you, my dear, it is in fact a basic matter of courtesy,’ whispered Mrs. Harrington in a condescending tone that poorly disguised her discomfiture; one of her daughters had spent part of the vigil conversing with Mary Bennet.
And now James Morland and his friends were being introduced to the new arrivals to Netherfield. What a stroke of bad luck! The tension in the room mounted. Mrs. Bennet, remembering the difficulty she’d had in asking her husband to pay Mr. Bingley a courtesy call, did not intend for this undertaking to remain in vain because of a brazen young woman who had appeared out of nowhere. On her part, her daughter Elizabeth, sitting near Charlotte Lucas, for the benefit of the latter, summarized the situation that had prevailed at Longbourn over the previous days.
‘You will laugh, Charlotte, but after Father called in at Netherfield, we peppered him with questions about this Mr. Bingley, but we did not receive a single answer to satisfy our curiosity. And you know my mother well enough to guess at all the creativity she exhibited in her numerous tactics to break through the paternal defences. Well, Father succeeded in hedging, fending off all attacks!’
‘You should have come to visit me, Lizzy, we had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Bingley at Lucas Lodge. I would have painted a portrait for you that resembles him as closely as possible, but that is no longer necessary. What is your opinion, Jane?’
‘Oh! I must admit to being most impressed by the elegance of these people. Miss Bingley’s and her sister’s dresses are absolutely superb. Furthermore, they appear to me to be most accomplished. As for the gentlemen accompanying them, they seem so...’
‘My dear Jane, you wish to say that Mr. Hurst is of little interest, and that Mr. Bingley is distinguished looking, his manners most poised and natural. As for his friend, Mr. Darcy, he shows himself to be haughty and cold,’ finished her sister, with a laugh.
‘Lizzy, you judge these people too hastily! You must first allow them the opportunity to make themselves better known, and we will then truly be able to appreciate them.’
‘Jane is right, let us allow our new neighbours time to get settled and to spend time with our families; there will be more than enough time later on to draw conclusions.’
‘How fitting that one of the subjects of our conversation should be heading towards us,’ Elizabeth interrupted gaily. ‘Jane, I do not believe I am mistaken in saying that you are the lucky chosen one.’
And thus, the eldest of the Bennet sisters was led onto the dance floor on the arm of Charles Bingley, who appeared to only have eyes for his charming partner. In seeing this, Mrs. Bennet was unable to prevent herself from reminding her friends of the young man’s highly pleasing countenance as well as his distinguished air, his agreeable mannerisms and his annual income of at least four thousand pounds.
During this time, news swept through the assembly like wildfire.
‘And so, this most elegant Mr. Darcy is from Derbyshire. How lucky we are to have been introduced to him!’ uttered Isabella Thorpe, following him with her gaze.
‘You seem to forget, my little sister, that he has inherited a most enviable fortune!’
‘I have not forgotten, John, but you must know that this detail is, all things told, of little importance to me,’ she retorted, her tone clearly contradicting her words.
‘Detail? How I would love to see this type of consideration as a mere detail, but alas, that is not the case.’
‘John, do not make such comments in the presence of Mr. Morland, you can see that you are putting him out of countenance.’
In fact, James Morland found the exchange between brother and sister rather distasteful. His father, the pastor in Fullerton, had ensured that his children showed little inclination to gossip. However, his education had not taught James to be distrustful of the dangerous charms of certain young women. And thus, he was prepared to excuse anything that a pretty young woman such as Isabella Thorpe could say or do if she consented to show some interest in him. The latter would have given much to be on the arm of Mr. Darcy during the next dance, but he appeared to scorn any one not belonging to the closed circle of his acquaintances. She thus decided to accept James Morland’s offer and proceeded to the centre of the room under admiring glances. During this time, John Thorpe decided to take a gamble; he walked energetically towards Miss Bingley, bowed before her and asked her hand for a dance. The latter, under the pretext of suffering a mild malaise due to the heat, declined his offer and benefited from the opportunity to return to Mr. Darcy, who had retreated to a quieter part of the room.
‘James does not appear overjoyed, that much is apparent from here,’ Kitty whispered to her sister. ‘We will have so much to tell Catherine when she comes to stay at Aunt Philips’! Look, that’s the sister of Mr. Robinson, on the arm of a young man I do not know. Who is it?’
‘Aunt Philips said he is the brother of Miss Thorpe. Come with me,’ Lydia ordered, ‘I’ve spotted John Lucas and Henry Long. They are most certainly dying to ask us to dance!’
In fits of laughter, they quickly headed towards Charlotte’s brother and his friend, under the disapproving gaze of several young women, who did not appreciate their behaviour yet certainly envied their audacity.
When the music began again, Elizabeth, who did not have a dance partner, sat beside Mary and, while she was deep in discussion with her sister, she was surprised to see Isabelle Thorpe sit down on the chair beside hers. She gave her a smile, all the while wondering what the young woman might have found so interesting about being in her company. When she heard the voice of Mr. Bingley, who was addressing Mr. Darcy, she understood the manoeuvre. The latter, unbeknownst to Elizabeth, was standing not far from them. It would have been difficult to not overhear snippets of the conversation between the two gentlemen. Mr. Bingley appeared to be reprimanding his friend for not dancing when there were so many charming young women present. At this exact moment, Isabella Thorpe ventured towards the chair, so as to be within the field of vision of the two men. Elizabeth blushed in light of such an overt display of audacity and then lowered her eyes… and this was precisely what drew the attention of Charles Bingley. He then impressed upon Darcy.
‘Miss Elizabeth is tolerable, but not handsome enough for me to decide to ask her to dance. As for the rest, I am in no humour, this evening, to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. Go quickly to your smiling partner, you are wasting your time with me,’ he replied.
Elizabeth glanced discretely at the two young men, then, seeing Mr. Darcy, who was moving in her direction, she was unable to prevent herself from bestowing him with a slight, malicious smile that did not completely mask the sharpness of her gaze. He walked in front of the young women, without even seeing the flirtatious smile on the lips of Miss Thorpe, moving towards Mr. Hurst, who was being served an umpteenth glass of punch. Isabella Thorpe, ascertaining the failure of her manoeuvre, decided then to address Elizabeth.
‘You most certainly heard what Mr. Darcy said in your regard.’
‘It is not my custom to listen
to conversations without being invited to do so,’ she retorted, attempting to regain a calmer tone that did not contradict the contents of her remarks.
But she noticed that much more than that was required to rid herself of Miss Thorpe.
‘Miss Elizabeth, do you not find it interesting to be acquainted with one whom I believe to be a very wealthy, young unmarried man? It is true that his comments are hardly flattering, to that I agree. One could feel indignant for less than that.’
‘After all, Miss Thorpe, to the best of my knowledge, you are as much as a wallflower as I,’ lashed out Elizabeth, in a sarcastic tone that was by no means pleasing to her interlocutor
The latter, after briefly nodding her head, rose. And then, as though rising to a challenge, she moved towards the corner of the room where the bachelor in question had sought refuge. Elizabeth’s eyes followed her, but when her gaze caught that of Mr. Darcy, she was unable to prevent a mocking smile from crossing her lips, which did not at all escape the intended party. Would it not be better to laugh about it? This is exactly what the young woman chose to do when she provided her friends with a spirited account of the Darcy incident. Her friends laughed heartily, as Elizabeth had a sharp wit and a very keen sense of humour.
‘Believe me, dear Mrs. Long, this Mr. Darcy, who boasts of owning half of Derbyshire, looks down on everyone and cannot be bothered to show any enjoyment in associating with our company,’ commented Mrs. Bennet, in a bitter tone that she made no attempt to disguise.