For the Jane Bennets

By Jane Elizabeth

In any 17th century English society, a woman like the celebrated Elizabeth Bennet is easily noticed and quick to be admired for her witty tongue and sparkling personality. Yet there are as many of the same sex who have a soft-spoken, humble temper; always looking to please though never explicitly expressing how they feelmuch like Elizabeths sister, Jane Bennet. Ann Ashton is one of such character and disposition, who, on the brink of adulthood, has suddenly been brought into contact again with her childhood friend, Mr. Hampton, whom she had loved in her youth. But the circumstances of their previous parting has made Ann weary of the gentleman, and it will take time and great patience on Hamptons part if he wishes her to open her heart to him once more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469194400

Jane Elizabeth

Jane Mandley is a recent high school graduate who has a passion both for writing as well as reading British literature, highly favoring Jane Austen, her six novels, and any book relating to them. She plans on majoring in Creative Writing upon entering the university, and making writing a large portion of her life, if not her career.

Book preview

Chapter 1

R ain, though found to be disagreeable to some, is neither uncommon nor rare in any part of England. And so, as the indigo clouds race across the skies, forming billowing castles in the air, one would not be found surprised at any rate by the situation of the weather. It is only another natural occurrence, nothing quite out of the ordinary at all, though my reader may happen to suggest otherwise. What can the author mean by setting the opening scene with a downpour of rain? To suggest that the following pages of this narrative will only posses the qualities of gloom, despair, and dampness? But you are quite mistaken to have thought so, and if you have read this and are determined to shut this book on account of the weather, pray read on, for I assure you, as the author, that it will end well. I only begin with the rain, for it entices our heroine.

She sat on a cushion in the window seat in the drawing room on a Tuesday afternoon. A great volume—we can only assume she must be enjoying—was spread across her lap, but her eyes did not drink the pages. Their blue-gray color matched the drops that pelleted against the windowpane, creating a kind of music that only she could hear. Her dark brown hair was pinned up casually, as if she knew that very morning when she had woken to dress that she would not be doing anything other than spending time reading for the whole, rainy day. The scratching of a pen could be heard from beyond the curtain that separated our heroine’s alcove to the remainder of the room. The writer did not speak, but our heroine knew who sat diligently scribbling notes, letters, or whatever must be written before the sun had set too far for the postman to take it to town. Though nothing would be sent on such a wet occasion, Mr. Ashton wrote on. She heard him pause, giving way to silence, which intruded on her thoughts. Pray, why did you stop, papa?

I only think, my dear Ann, how it cannot defer your thoughts from your reading. Cannot your concentration waver with such an irritating sound as my pen?

Ann glanced at her volume to see her progress in the reading to be very wanting. I cannot admit that I have been reading. But do not put pain to yourself by thinking that it is on account of your pen. She drew aside the curtain, and her father looked up to her. I find it rather comforting, and it complements the rhythm of the rain." Mr. Ashton only nodded, understanding that his daughter longed for a lapse in conversation, and resumed his pen.

The house as a whole lay silent and still. It had been many years since the Welmont estate had experienced any great excitement. It was not long after young Grace was born that Mrs. Ashton caught a tragic disease, which proved to be fatal. Her oldest daughter had only lately been married, leaving her newborn and four children motherless. Mr. Ashton, having been a most inflexible and cold man, began tending to his orphaned children, especially bonding with Ann. Both were found to be partial toward reading and the silence that accompanied it and quickly passed hours of quiet enjoyment together. By and by, the next two Miss Ashtons were put out into society and married off into fashionable homes, their astounding beauty having attracted the most fortunate of men. In the present state, only Grace, Ann and her twin brother Matthew resided at their father’s house. The twins were just prior to coming of age, each seventeen years old, while Grace still owned only a year past a decade. Mr. Ashton’s heart had softened to all his children throughout those years.

Only by the chiming of the clock did Ann’s thoughts regain her. She was obliged at this time to quit her book, placing her mark in it however, and proceeded to tea. Her father did not join them, but this could be considered favorable on his account. For the entire length of the sitting, Grace would talk as she did, about every piece of gossip she had heard from town through her dear friend Kitty. Kitty was fifteen and doted on little Grace, telling her of all the wonderful balls and parties she attended after recently coming out. Ann thought the connection a bit absurd, but she and Matthew quietly heard Grace out, until she was obliged to rest her tongue and later her eyelids for the remainder of the afternoon. The rest of the day passed well, the rain still falling, to Ann’s delight, though Matthew would have rather it stopped, for he wished to have gone riding that day.

Chapter 2

I believe now would be a perfectly rational moment to introduce the reader to Harriet Goldenbrook. Harriet was but a month Ann’s junior, and the two were quite fond of each other. Goldenbrook Gates was only a mile from Welmont, and Ann would frequently walk there for company when Grace’s was not sufficient.

Wednesday had dawned not to a glorious sunrise, but to the continuation of the rain. Matthew could not bear lodging another entire day without employment and therefore sought out his carriage to ride into Earthmore. Ann was asked if she would not join him, to which she responded that she would certainly enjoy his company as far as Goldenbrook Gates, as she intended to call upon Harriet. Her request was granted, and her brother handed her in and out of the carriage himself, being as fond of his twin sister as he was. Do take care, Ann, he called to her as she turned to go, and do not persist on returning home without me. I will not see you coming home in all this dreary weather, which I cannot happen to understand why you adore so much. Pray, if you must, have the Goldenbrook’s carriage take you. I shall return here right after dinner, for I mean to dine with William Hampton. I cannot say how pleased I am that he has returned home to Earthmore this past month! You must come and see him again soon, Ann. We cannot forget our childhood as we three had become so intimate.

Too true, my dear brother. But I have thought him indifferent towards me.

Indifferent? Why, he is only baffled at your newborn beauty and grace as a woman in place of the delicate features of his childhood friend. See you blush, dear Ann, though I know your foul opinion of most men. Do become reacquainted with him. She consented on being agreeable whenever her brother happened to invite Mr. Hampton to dine with them. Would you now, my dear sister? Whenever aren’t you agreeable but when you read and completely shut out the entire world, including me?

Ann did not try to hide a smile. And why should you ever be treated differently?

Only because of our terms. I would not dare to speak to any woman as the way I have been speaking to you for as long as my mind can refer back to. It would seem too informal, and many a lady would accuse me of being too forward. But with you, Ann, how can a brother not speak out his mind and the darkest, deepest dwellings in his heart? It is your manner which draws me, as well as most other people, to you. You do not interrupt as many a young lady will do with frivolous comments which hold no truth or consequence. But your few words have great strength and sensibility in them. Oh, now why do you blush when I only speak truth?

I do not wish to be raised to such high expectations, brother. Whatever shall I do if you catch me uttering something not worth hearing?

Do not trouble yourself, Ann. I’m only stating my own opinion—do let me take leave. I have been detaining you haven’t I! And you must be freezing outside the carriage—how thoughtless of me. Do get on inside and take a cup of tea. I shall come for you after dinner, remember?

I could not forget your wishes. They departed for their separate ways, seeking warmth and friendship. Goldenbrook Gates was a fine house, and Ann considered it her second home. The front entrance was quite grand, the stonework carved over a century prior to the present in the most elegant English style of the time. Ann knew that Mr. Goldenbrook was very fond of his home’s grand entrance, and she had no doubt that it was the first thing he spoke of when meeting visitors and guests at his house. He would speak of its history, the painstaking time and effort put into the stone piece, not at all aware that any young person in the group could not have repeated a word of it later.

My dear, Ann! How soon of you to come; I did not expect you until afternoon. But no matter, here you are—Betsy, do take her coats and hang them—and I see your brother has driven you this far. Is he off to Earthmore for the day? Oh do not answer such a silly question. I can know the answer quite right. He is off to see William Hampton is he not? Ann replied that he was indeed, but was not his name Mr. Hampton? Oh Ann! I cannot believe you, poor soul! We have known each other for years. Cannot he be called by his Christian name? You do look cold. Come let’s have some tea. Harriet led her friend into the tearoom and seated Ann close to the burning fire. I can see you are pale with cold.

The color will return once I’m seated by the fire.

I cannot believe you to be out in such weather, even in a carriage! My, your hands must be utterly frozen. Dear Ann, she said taking her hands, they are even more pale than your face.

My hands are always cold. I shall be alright.

Always so cold? Do men not shrink away when they take your hand to dance?

You know very well that I dance rarely, Harriet—

And only for a good cause, I know Ann, dear. You must put yourself out into society more. We have been out for over a year haven’t we? I do not like going to such parties alone without you by my side. Ann knew this to be true without needing to look at the earnest face gazing up at her. Harriet had always had a smaller stature than Ann, which could be the only sign as to who the eldest was. Harriet had acquired a lovely and womanly face at a young age, and though Ann was quite pretty herself, she was no match for Harriet’s deep eyes and bright cheeks. She was always smiling and talking, which gratified Ann’s melancholy spirit. Though Harriet’s tongue seemed to always be in motion, Ann would never wish to speak herself, and loved hearing her friend relate aloud all the things she left unsaid.

The day was spent with much enjoyment on either side, and there was a plan for the cook to make an extra dish for dinner which