Lizzy's Chair

Part 1

Elizabeth Bennet, the second eldest daughter in the Bennet family, loved to seek refuge in the solitude of her father's library. From the day her father taught her to read, she often escaped to this room, hiding under his large mahogany bureau with a good book in her hand. Being the favorite of the five daughters, Elizabeth knew her father always welcomed her intrusions amongst his books and belongings. Her elder sister, Jane, with her kind and patient manner, amiably obliged Elizabeth's absence from daily duties by overseeing the silliness of the younger girls. Without a governess or a suitable mother, for Mrs. Bennet was more dedicated to advancing the family's social status and unfolding the local gossip of their neighbors in the nearby town of Meryton than attending to her daughters, both Jane and Elizabeth shared the responsibility of sensibly educating the three younger Bennet girls. However that may be, as the autumn day broke, Elizabeth, or Lizzy as her family affectionally called her, eagerly awaited for her father in his library. Mr. Bennet had promised his dear Lizzy a day of leisure, literature and learning beyond the confines of their family home in Longbourn. He knew his daughter's inclination for reading and exploring the outdoors were soon to be challenged by Mrs. Bennet's incessant need in hastily presenting both Elizabeth and Jane to society.

Mr. Bennet, a gentleman of modest yet comfortable means, understood the reality of possessing no rightful heirs in the eyes of the law with five daughters and no sons. At present, with his eldest daughters to soon come of age, it was not lost on his conscience that his wife's sole purpose in being, to find suitable husbands for their five daughters, was indeed a pertinent task. Mrs. Bennet insisted on presenting Jane and Lizzy in the upcoming season, albeit considered premature in Regency London. While high society may have found it very much ill-advised for two daughters, both young and of unequal age, to be out in society at the same time, for the country establishment the desire for merriment at local balls eased the boundaries of proper etiquette. Mrs. Bennet had persuaded Mr. Bennet with the utmost confidence that Jane with her unbridled beauty would certainly be wedded to a man of great means. However, Lizzy, while still a fine young lady, had a cleverness, wit, and stubborn nature, that could be considered uninviting as a matrimonial prospect. With all of this in mind, Mr. Bennet with the best intentions was resigned to educate Lizzy, who was not only dearest to his heart, but the most clever of his daughters, the truths of being a lady without fortune.

Holding a candle to light the dim hallway, Mr. Bennet pushed opened the door to the library and nearly dropped the burning candle as he found Lizzy sitting in the chair behind his mahogany bureau. The same bureau that his father and his father's father sat before reading, perusing the ledgers, and managing the business of their country home. A slight sense of dismay crept into his mind at the image of a man not of the Bennet name, not of his bloodline sitting in this very chair, his chair. In time, it would no longer be his chair, yet he pondered; it should be Lizzy's chair. Could he not defy the rules of society? Surely his daughter, this daughter, his most cherished daughter, Elizabeth Bennet, deserved his books, his belongings, and his chair. Could he not bestow his most cherished line to her?

It always had pleased Mr. Bennet to discover Lizzy underneath his bureau when she was a young girl, hiding from her sisters or engulfed in a story of adventure. Still a child, almost yet not nearly grown, Elizabeth was an emerging young lady that no longer fit beneath the bureau. Mr. Bennet was not content, like his wife, to think of a time without his daughters, specifically Lizzy, at home in Longbourn. The dismay returned and his brow briefly furrowed at these thoughts. However, the darkness was quickly parted by the light in his daughter's eyes as she laughed at the flickering, nearly extinguished candle. Her eyes, the deepest brown with a brightness reflecting her spirit, and her smile were a welcomed cure to this brief ailment and certainly to any notions of future uncertainties.

"Papa, you are quite delayed. The sun is awake, the trees and the river beckon us on the adventure you have promised me," Elizabeth chided.

"Yes, Yes, my dear Lizzy, let us be off while the house still sleeps and before your mother implores me to do some insolent tasks not to my liking," replied Mr. Bennet, with ease and humour in his voice.

Quietly moving from the study to the outdoors, Elizabeth and her father paraded down the tree-lined lane towards the meadow lying between their home and the forest. Leaving the horses and the carriage behind, this morning's journey was meant for refreshment by foot.

"Oh Papa, I do love the crisp dawn air and the sun rising on Longbourn. Its peacefulness brings me such pleasure, such joy. But Papa, your face and your eyes tell me that your countenance is not as it should be. Tell me a story to make us both laugh as we walk along the meadow's edge breathing in its morning dew."

"Ah, my dear Lizzy, you are no longer a child who laughs and finds merriment and wonder in your father's stories, it is you and your cleverness that should entreat me to a story," replied Mr. Bennet. "Before our minds are taken over by tales, I must first address the most serious business of your future my child." Stopping for a breath, Mr. Bennet continued. "Your sisters are too young, too ignorant, too naïve, too silly or too kind to understand what is to become of the Bennet house. And while your mother's incessant talk of your future may seem frivolous and tiresome, she rightly pursues a match of fortune for you and Jane. I married your mother for her beauty, not for her mind, and although her wit may be lacking and her impropriety abundant at times, she does speak an occasional truth in the matter of matrimony, although in a very unsensible manner at times," Mr. Bennet explained.

Elizabeth's eyes were in full focus on her father as he continued with these words that were quite direct and at the same time meandered like the path they traveled upon.

"Plainly stated, your sisters must marry men of means, or even more so, men of fortune. My estate cannot be theirs or yours. My estate is to be entailed away from my children. You alone Elizabeth have a rich mind. You possess cleverness and a stubbornness not known to your gender. While I, as your father, hold you dear in these matters, the world will not hold you in such regards. There is no place for a woman in the business of land, of ownership, of the law," implored Mr. Bennet.

"But I shall find a place, Papa," said Elizabeth with an impish grin oddly mingled with her confident demeanor. "As you have always told me, I am clever. More clever than my sisters, my mother or all of the young men in Longbourn and Meryton." She threw up her arms and cried "and maybe the whole of Hertfordshire!"

"I am respectable, and I am skilled in the art of persuasion, to gain the respect of anyone that may be tempted to be my superior," she giggled with a coyness in her posture. "I am headstrong; I will not be intimidated by anyone or anything despite their title or means," snickered Elizabeth.

Then, as if she were at the pulpit, her eyes narrowed, she looked straight into her father's eyes and indignantly declared, "I am resolved, Papa. I am a young lady not to be trifled with by neither a man nor the ridiculous laws of entailment forced upon me. I do not need a gentleman, nor a birth-right to clarify the misfortunes that are bestowed upon my sex."

Elizabeth paused for a moment, gazed out to the meadow, beyond the river and into the wood and then said with an incredulous calmness, "I can be a lady, not a spinster; I will be the lady whose merit and mind dictates her worthiness of property and happiness in life without the dependence of any man or his fortune."

While Mr. Bennet always knew and encouraged his daughter to speak her mind, he was quite taken, affected and proud of the passion in which Elizabeth, whom was not yet fourteen, spoke. He smiled brought his hand to his chin and sighed.

"Indeed, my child," Mr. Bennet replied with a hint of laughter. "My dear Lizzy, I dare say, you are all those things and more. It will be to my great pleasure, and with my devoted approval to see that you can, that you will find a place on your own...even if it may be my dying wish for you."

Hearing those words, Elizabeth quickened her step and skipped down the path ahead of her father, turned her head and was a child once more. Looking back at her father she sang, "oh Papa, you shall not die until we've danced our eyes upon all the books in Britain and uncovered all of nature's wonders within the wood. Let us converse no longer of such a disagreeable topic of business."

Even with her cleverness and resolve, Mr. Bennet knew there was still just a girl inside this inquisitive mind on the brink of becoming a lady. He quietly whispered to himself, "oh dear Lizzy, let us all be witness as you dance upon the indifference in this world, unfoiled by its realities and never vexed by its offenses. You shall find your place, my girl, you will find your chair and I will be very much at my leisure as you do."