The Eldest | F. Darcy

Prologue: The Meeting

While Mrs. Bennet was eagerly discussing the long-awaited news that Netherfield Park had finally been let by a handsome, single gentleman earning five thousand pounds a year, one of the Bennet sisters sat in the same room, seemingly indifferent. Adele, however, was too absorbed in the ledgers of her father's estate to register much of the conversation.

"Adele," called Mrs. Bennet, snapping her daughter out of her trance.

"Yes, Mumma?" Adele asked, her brow furrowed in confusion at her mother's displeased expression. "Have I missed something?"

Her father snorted behind his book, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"Oh no, dear!" he said, amusement clear in his tone. "Nothing worth your while."

"Oh! Mr. Bennet! How can you say so?" Mrs. Bennet cried indignantly. "Adele is four and twenty and still unmarried. What could be more worth her while than this?"

"Then do enlighten her, my dear," he replied dryly. "For she is far superior to her sisters and far more likely to ensnare this Mr. Bingley of yours."

"Mr. Bingley?"

Adele repeated the name that evening as she sat combing Jane's hair in their shared chamber with Elizabeth. The three sisters were preparing for bed.

"Then either of you two are more likely to catch him," Elizabeth said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Dear sister, men are not pheasants to be caught," Adele retorted. "They are merely humans, with little sense and eyes set upon every woman who piques their interest. And do not count me in your matchmaking—if you wish to wed and bear children before your death, that is your concern."

Jane giggled as Adele gave her newly woven braid a playful tug.

"Oh no!" Elizabeth exclaimed dramatically. "Let me first be an excellent aunt to your children, for who else would regale them with tales of your mischief?"

"You dream too much, Lizzie," Adele said with a smirk. "That day is far from coming."

"Why so, Ady?" Jane asked gently.

"Jane, let it be," Adele sighed. "I am in no humor to explain tonight. Sleep well, both of you."

With that, the sisters exchanged their goodnights and soon drifted into slumber.

"Ady! Did you hear? Father has spoken to Mr. Bingley—only this morning!"

Adele had just returned from visiting their tenants when Lydia bounded toward her like an overexcited rabbit.

The news took her by surprise. She had not expected her father to take such an initiative. She knew all too well that this meant she, too, would be thrown in Mr. Bingley's path.

"Oh dear," she muttered before hurrying toward her father's study.

She entered to find Mr. Bennet waiting with a knowing smile.

"My dear Ady, how are you this afternoon?"

"I would be much better if Lydia had not deprived me of the pleasure of learning the most thunderous news of the day."

"Yes," he sighed, setting his book aside. "But you must understand, I only did it to please your mother—"

"So that she would not complain of her nerves, allowing you to remain in your study undisturbed," Adele finished for him.

Her father regarded her carefully. Though her face betrayed no emotion, her violet-blue eyes flashed like a lightning storm. He mumbled an apology, though halfhearted at best.

She exhaled. "Father, you know what happened to me. I do not wish to be paraded before every eligible, wealthy man who happens to settle in the neighborhood. But Mother will not listen, and so, once again, I shall have to flatter some filthy-rich, spoiled gentleman."

"You know him?"

The sharpness of her father's question made Adele falter.

"No," she admitted sheepishly. "I have not even seen him. But I am certain he is as I have described. Almost all of them are."

"He is not, Adele," Mr. Bennet said firmly. "He is not as you presume. Mr. Bingley is an amiable soul, quite unlike what you imagine."

"Then he shall be perfect for Jane, shall he not?"

Mr. Bennet chuckled. "You sound just like your mother."

"I am her daughter, after all."

Several days passed, and Adele had just returned from visiting one of their tenants, Mr. Doe, who had fallen ill. She had brought him a basket and reassured him that a poor yield would not be a burden—her father's estate could compensate for the loss through the reserves she managed.

The day was beautiful, and she resisted the temptation to take a stroll before entering the house and making her way to the study. To her surprise, her father was nowhere to be seen. Settling down with one of his books, she was soon interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the door.

Expecting her father and the old steward, Mr. Sattler, she looked up with a small smile—only to find an unfamiliar gentleman standing beside Mr. Bennet.

"Ah! Adele, there you are," her father said. "This is Mr. Bingley."

Adele immediately rose to her feet, offering a quick curtsy as Mr. Bingley bowed with a wide smile.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," he said cheerfully.

"The sentiment is returned," she replied politely. "I hope you are finding Hertfordshire agreeable?"

"Oh, very much so! The people are wonderfully kind and good-natured. I love it here."

"And I have heard that Netherfield boasts quite a large library?"

Mr. Bennet smirked. "She shares my love of reading."

"Oh yes!" Bingley nodded enthusiastically. "Though, I must confess, I am not much of a reader myself. I find it difficult to sit still with a book for long."

"That nature of yours reminds me of the sister next to me," Adele observed. "She would undoubtedly agree with you, would she not, Papa?"

"Indeed, she would," Mr. Bennet agreed.

As their conversation continued, Mr. Bennet observed his eldest daughter's interaction with Mr. Bingley with quiet amusement. He said nothing, but the idea of matchmaking was clearly not lost on him. The visit ended pleasantly, and Mrs. Bennet eagerly extended an invitation for dinner—at least three courses, of course.

"Is he handsome?" Lydia demanded, tugging at Adele's arm.

"Is he amiable?" Kitty chimed in eagerly.

"He is rich enough," Elizabeth interjected with a smirk. "So does it matter if he had warts?"

The Bennet sisters burst into laughter.

"Well, fortunately, he does not," Adele replied with a playful grin. "He is handsome and amiable—very much like Jane. He even handled some of Mumma's more hideous questions with remarkable kindness. Though he is a bit... goofy, we can forgive that in light of his fortune, can we not?"

She winked at Jane, whose light blush did not go unnoticed by Adele and Elizabeth