[ UNDERGOING EDITING 08-18-24 ]
- Ever since she could walk, Elodie Bennet had expectations set upon her, as many other women did. As the second eldest, she was meant to care for her younger sisters and fulfill her duties without complaint.
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THE YELLOW DRESS.
"ELODIE Bennet! Come here at once!" The Bennet household, typically quiet in the gentle lull of a spring afternoon, was suddenly alive with a burst of energy. The day had begun unremarkably, with rabbits darting through the underbrush and birds chirping cheerfully in the garden as they busied themselves with their nests.
Yet, a peculiar tension now hung in the air, as if the very walls of the home were buzzing with anticipation.
Elodie Bennet, lounging atop her freshly laundered linens, absentmindedly brushed a lock of her golden-blonde hair from her eyes and turned her head in the direction of her mother's urgent call, the sharp tone unmistakably coming from the parlor downstairs.
Her fingers lingered on the worn pages of the book she had been immersed in, the familiar scent of old paper wafting up to her. For a moment, she considered feigning ignorance, as she often did when summoned so suddenly.
But something in her mother's voice, a note of urgency that was impossible to ignore, made her reconsider. This wasn't the time for playful defiance.
As she moved down the hallway, the sound of hurried footsteps drew her attention. A maid rushed past her, nearly colliding with the wall in her haste. The woman's face was flushed, her arms burdened with a bundle of freshly folded linens, and a look of frazzled determination etched into her features.
The Bennet home, though modest in its charm, was filled with cherished relics of the past—paintings and antiques that had been graciously passed down through the generations by their ancestors. None of them were worth much though, just things to fill in the blank spaces of their home.
Elodie made her way into the parlor, a curious glint forming in her eye when she came upon her other five sisters: Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia. Their eyes sparkled with the promise of something extraordinary.
"What have I missed?" Elodie inquired, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she settled beside Mary, the most reserved of the Bennet sisters who tended to stick to her pianoforte.
Although Mary was often distant and reserved, she held a quiet fondness for her older sister, who had been the one to patiently teach her the art of playing the piano.
As Elodie entered the room, Mary glanced up and offered a rare, small smile, which Elodie warmly returned. Lydia, the youngest Bennet and an endless source of lively mischief, bounced excitedly in her seat, her grin spreading from ear to ear.
Her brown curls were a wild halo around her pale temples, a delightful mess that only a young girl could pull off with such charm. "Only the most thrilling thing to happen to us all year! Oh, you must tell her, Jane, for I am too out of breath!"
