JANEuary

Janeuary 2026 is a month-long fandom event celebrating the works and world of Jane Austen. Fanworks of all kinds are welcome. See pinned post for rules. Organized by @FiraWren

[janeuary-month]

Hi everyone! Janeuary 2026 is over, but it was a great success! Below, you'll find more information about the 2026 event:

End-of-event round-up post

Prompts

Rules

FAQ

Posting instructions

Save the date for Janeuary 2027 throughout the entire month of January next year! 2027 prompts will be shared in September.

If you have any questions, feel free to reach out! This event is organized by @firawren.

Info on the 2025 event

[austenian-events]

Austen Exchange: Round 5 coming soon!

Austen Exchange is a fanfiction exchange dedicated to all things Jane Austen—from Austen’s original works to any and all adaptations of them—hosted annually on AO3. If you sign up, you’ll be assigned to write a fic of at least 1000 words for another participant, and you’ll receive the same in return.

If that sounds up your street, you can read more about Austen Exchange here. Our 2026 schedule is below:

Nominations: 14 July to 21 July, 22:00 UTC → countdown Sign-Ups: 24 July to 2 August, 22:00 UTC → countdown Assignments Out: on or before 5 August Posting Deadline: 18 September, 22:00 UTC → countdown Collection Opens: 26 September, 00:00 UTC → countdown Author Reveals: 3 October, 00:00 UTC → countdown

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for updates—we hope you’ll join us!

[obscureau]

Sisters and Liars

Ch. 11

“Dearest Georgiana,

I have just read the letters sent by you and James. And I must say, I am astonished. Three weeks in Bath and you have secured a proposal. From a young man of education and ambition, no less.

I write to say your brother is quite besides himself. He seems incapable of forming rational thoughts. He will need some time to recover, but I know your heart must be in agonies waiting for his reply. I cannot tell you when it will come. But I will try to convince him to at least hear you out. 

James hints at some mischief wrought by you and Kitty. While I would expect nothing less of her, I had not expected it of you. Yet young ladies will be young and not just ladies, so one must make some allowances. Goodness knows that they are made for young gentlemen everyday and twice as generously. Yet I hope there has been no lasting damage to either of you. I fear Kitty may not have learned the lessons she ought from Lydia’s fraught escapades, thanks to your brother's kind endeavors and my mother’s short memory, but we were all on the brink of disaster.”

This addition to the letter brought Kitty up short. Had not learned the lessons she ought! Of all the Bennet sisters, Kitty had perhaps learned them most. Jane was untouched, Kitty had gathered that Lizzy got a fantastically wealthy husband from the ordeal. Mary always considered herself above reproach in all things scandalous, and her parents agreed. Even Lydia had escaped all negative consequences at the time. Only Kitty, stuck at home and associated with Lydia so completely, had felt the sting of the misadventure. In Bath the reputation Lydia had garnered followed her. How she wished to do something childish to her sister, tie her boots together or tangle her embroidery or intentionally remove a bookmark so she lost her place. After all, if she thought Kitty a child, why not be one? But it was she who had kept Georgiana in check during their time in Bath, not the other way around. She reminded herself of just how wrong her family was about her. Then she took a deep breath and kept reading.

“Your brother has just come in. He speaks of sending for you forthwith. I am to send money with this letter and urge you depart at your earliest convenience. Please express our apologies to James and his wife as well as our congratulations on little Thomas. Urge them to visit as soon as it is comfortable to do so. Though it likely goes without saying so, please bring my sister with you. 

Your sister,

Elizabeth Darcy” 

Kitty handed the letter to Colonel Fitzwilliam who read it in his turn. When he was done he looked up at the girls. 

“Now Gigi, don’t look at me like that. I told Fitz about the business with you two so he’d understand that Mr. Muir was a good sort of fellow who hadn’t been after your money. I didn’t do it to get you in trouble. Either of you,” he said, turning to Kitty. “I suppose you can leave in two days? That will give you time to pack and for me to arrange passage. I’ll write to Darcy and tell when to expect you, I’ll send it by post right away. If there is any business left for you to attend to, today is the day for it, for you’ll have to pack tomorrow.” 

“Is there any business you need to attend to?” Georgiana asked Kitty. She seemed to understand her friend's fragile state. When Kitty had returned from her ride with Captain Tilghman she had been quiet. The added insult of her sister’s distrust was not helping. But Kitty kept her own council. 

“I don’t believe so. Do you?”

“Yes. Will you accompany me to the pump rooms? I’m to meet Mr. Muir there today. I want to tell him of our departure.”

“Of course.”

In the pump room both girls signed the book again to indicate their departures. Master Beau tutted over their retreat to the country. 

“The whole town is evacuating it would seem. First the Crawfords, then Captain Tilghman just yesterday and now you two.” 

Kitty’s head turned at the name, yet she dared not speak. But Georgiana sensed her interest. “Captain Tilghman? He left as well?”

“Indeed,”Master Beau confirmed. “He had been trying for a while you know. But had so much business that needed minding before he could go.”

“Oh, how tiresome,” Georgiana offered, as she must give some response. 

“Indeed,” Master Beau excused himself after that. 

It was not long before the younger Mr. Muir joined them and they took a turn about the room together. Georgiana informed Arthur that she was being called home. She promised to entreat her brother for an invitation for him as soon as possible so that they might meet. Kitty could see that Georgiana was terrified by the idea, but knew she would never attempt an elopement. Georgiana had only one true aim in life and that was the approval of her elder brother. It was an ambition Kitty could not aspire to. She’d never been approved of by a single elder sister, ever. 

The lovers spent as much time together as possible. Kitty fell back to give them some privacy, as much as one could in public rooms. For a moment she stepped into a side room, the same one where Captain Tilghman had first spoken to her. She felt a pain in her chest, like she had been running for too hard, too long. How she longed to stop. She sighed. There would be no rest for a while yet. 

The next day was full of packing and repacking. Mr. Muir was invited to dinner and Mrs. Fitzwilliam came down from her rooms to join them at table. Afterwards they retired to the sitting room and everyone worked very hard not to eavesdrop on Georgiana and Mr. Muir’s last evening together. Kitty was very successful without even trying. Neither her book nor the couple could catch her attention. She was elsewhere, wherever she imagined Captain Tilghman to be. Was he in London? In Lime? Or purhaps the country. She wondered if there was a lady who had caught his attention there, if he painted her too. 

Enough. She had enough of her misery in company. She excused herself and went to her room to prepare for bed. The next day would be tiring, and she already felt so fatigued. 

@janeuary-month

[obscureau]

Sisters and Liars

Chapter 10

Though Kitty dearly wished to eaves drop on Georgiana’s tete a tete with Mr. Arthur Muir, she was pulled from that opportunity by another: Captain Tilghman’s invitation to go riding with him at the same date and time. So as Arthur Muir was making his introductions to the Fitzwilliams, Captain Tilghman was holding the reins of a chestnut mare as Kitty arranged herself on the saddle.

She had been pleased beyond words to receive the invitation, the first real sign of his interest. But now he seemed unusually quiet, his inquisitive eyes seeming to avoid the lips he had always sought out before. And she could not bring herself to force his attention as he prepared the horse for their ride. She resolved to confront him once they were off. 

However this proved to be more challenging than she anticipated. He trotted ahead of her and every time she tried to overtake him, or even ride next to him, he turned or sped up. She was about to cry out in frustration when he finally spoke. 

“It’s no good you know. I can’t read lips while I’m riding. The motion of the horses, the need to pay attention to them at all times… I just can’t do it. That’s why I asked you to ride with me. I don’t think I could say this if I had to look at you and read your face and lips the whole time.”

He turned a little then, as though to make sure she was taking heed of his words. When he saw her rapt attention he plowed on. 

“It has come back to me that Mr. Muir insulted me, and you spoke up in my defense. That was not necessary. And now I hear he is so aggrieved of you that he declares he shan’t even be in your company. A potential connection ruined and for what? An old infirmed man who should be far outside your notice.” 

Kitty was shocked by this declaration. She had not anticipated this admonishment from him. To call himself, who she believed to be barely above 30, old was one thing. She may have agreed with that assessment before she herself reached 20, but no longer did three decades seem so extreme to her. And yet to call himself infirmed was quite another. Even now as he rode she saw how fine and strong his figure was. To call him infirm would be to call her own father dead. 

He glanced at her once again and read her expression even if he refused to read her lips. 

“No, it is true Miss Bennet. I am old beyond my years and quite out of health to engage the attention of a young lady. I cannot dance, for I can hear no rhythm. I cannot attend the symphony in the boxes. Even plays are difficult, as the lips of the actors are too far for me to read without glasses, and even then... How am I to entertain a young lady of breeding?”

With art! Kitty longed to tell him. With conversation, with poetry, with kindness. Most of all, with passion. She could see Captain Tilghman had that within him in great measure. Why else would his voice shake so, every line of his body screaming the pain he held inside. 

“I have… humored myself in applying for your attention. A luxury I should have never pursued and could never afford. It belongs elsewhere. Not with me.”

They rode on in silence. Kitty did not make a sound as tears fell down her face. The tears were for herself. But more than that, they were for him, Captain Tilghman, who would deny himself so much. She did not want him to see the cost of his pride. She knew he would be hurting enough without knowing her heart was heavy too. 

The ride ended shortly after. Captain Tilghman, ever the gentleman, held her horse again as she dismounted. But he refused to meet her eye. 

Kitty could not allow it. They may never see each other again but she would give his conscience repose at least. She reached out with both her hands and grabbed his face, forcing his gaze to hers. 

Captain Tilghman’s eyes went wide at the contact, but he did not look away. 

“Mr. Muir does not avoid me on your account. He discovered what you already knew, who I am. He was insulting Miss Darcy, thinking her me. So I let him know what the real Miss Bennet thought of him. So you see, there was never a potential connection, he abhorred the very idea of me.”

The captain looked a little relieved at that, but the set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow told Kitty he was ultimately unmoved. 

“And even if he did not, I abhorred him. A connection with you would be, in every way, superior. A connection of talent, consideration, and kindness must always be preferable to one of derision and pride, which is all he ever had to offer me. What is dancing to love?”

Kitty let that be the last word between them, turning her back to the captain and walking away. 

@janeuary-month

[obscureau]

Margaret and the Melodrama

Chapter 12

New Year’s Day dawned cold and bright, with no clouds to dampen spirits or threaten more snow. All the better for the party, as otherwise no musicians would be able to provide music and it would be down to Margaret and Catherine to play for everyone. 

And Margaret, at least, intended to dance. 

While rehearsals continued, there was a certain distracted air about them. And, in fact, just as luncheon was being called Captain Carter announced there would be no afternoon rehearsal, encouraging everyone in attendance to rest up for the ball. Margaret was quite relieved to hear it, retiring with her retinue of fairies when the captain grasped her hand. 

“I do hope my queen will deign to dance with her Bottom?” He grinned. 

“You may have the very first dance if that is your wish,” Margaret returned. 

“It is, in fact. How did you find me out?”

“My fairy magics,” Margaret smirked before following the crowd to their meal. 

Margaret was pleased with the request, but not so much that she could not rest. She read a novel for a short span and then dropped off to a cozy winter sleep. 

Her gown was laid out for her. It was a rare extravagance on their budget but her mother had insisted. It was a soft peach silk with flowers embroidered from the hem to the bodice. The décolletage was draped to show her at her best advantage and the puffed sleeves were trimmed with fringe. Her jewelry was simple, almost plain, a cameo on a ribbon, a bracelet, and pearl drop earrings.  Her maid was trapped in the cottage behind an acre of frosty mud so Lady Middleton asked her maid to fix Margaret’s hair. The difference in a house maid and a ladies maid was quite noticeable. Margaret had never felt so elegant. 

At nine there was a knock on her bedroom door and Catherine entered when bidden. “Will you walk down with me?” Catherine asked. “Henry is taking forever.” 

Margaret understood. His nerves were getting the better of him. She took her friend's arm and they joined the party in the sitting room which had been transformed into the tea board. The ladies retrieved cups of punch and observed the slowly gathering assembly.

The elder set were seated, speaking sedately. The captains huddled together in their formal Navy uniforms, looking incredibly dashing. The Athenian youths and fairies were precious in their adolescent finery, eyes only for each other. Margaret could not help but enjoy their youthful exuberance. She wondered how many hearts would be broken by breakfast. They rose their voices to be heard over the sound of the musicians tuning their instruments in the ball room.

At last, Mr. Abington arrived. He joined his sister and Margaret. He looked uncomfortable and his sister urged him to take some wine. He had excused himself to do just so when Sir Middleton’s voice rose above the din of the party

“Happy New Year dear ones. I could not be more pleased or proud to have your company with my family at Christmas. I have rarely had such diverting entertainments, such merry friends, such a joyous holiday. And to think, we are only halfway through our Christmas season! What other delights may be discovered in the next five days? Let tonight be one such diversion. Please join my wife and I in our New Year Ball.” 

He took Lady Middleton’s hand and they started the migration to the ball room. Captain Carter was at her side in a blink. “And now I claim my dance,” he smiled down at her. Margaret noted that he did not so much as glance at Catherine, who, for her own part, was looking at the floor. Margaret took his arm and removed him from her friend’s vicinity for both their sakes. 

In the ball room Lady Middleton called the dance and couples started to make up the sets. She saw young John accompanying Catherine and Mr. Abington was with a Chapelwhite that was barely old enough to attend. He looked quite mortified but Margaret suspected he had no one to blame but himself, guessing he had panicked when it came time to ask a lady to dance and she had been the last one available. They were at the very end of the line, and Captain Carter followed her gaze to them there. Then the music started.

At first they said nothing. They followed the flow of the dancers around them, keeping time to the music. But at one pass Captain Carter’s face changed, lifting an eyebrow as if bemused. “I have warned you of the Abingtons’ character, and still you share their company. I wonder why.”

A fair question, she had to admit. It deserved a response. And yet she was in so many confidences she felt she must tread softly, lest she betray any of them.

She grasped his hands and they spun in the center of the set. “Why do you think they acted so?”

Captain Carter had plainly expected a defense, not another question in return. He blinked in surprise. “Because one is too proud and the other is a coward.” He released her hands and they both spun away. 

“Can you think of no other reasons?”

“Can you?” They passed each other in the line.

“A million misunderstandings can happen betwixt friends and lovers. You never wondered if this was one?”

“A misunderstanding can be resolved with but a word,” he spun her back to her spot on the line. 

“If the opportunity is given. If the misunderstanding is known.”

“If there is courage to speak,” he countered, taking her hand and walking all the way back down the line. He went silent as he passed the siblings he spoke of.

“And who should have that courage?” They spun and faced each other again.

“The one in the wrong,” They stepped together.

“What if the one in the wrong does not know the truth,” they stepped apart. “And the only one who does never had the chance.”

“I knew,” he stumbled. “But no one would listen. If I could suffer the consequences surely someone else could find the strength-”

“You were not the only one to suffer consequences,” Margaret spun.

“Yet I should be the one to repair the rift? I, the least to blame?”

“Do you wish the rift to be repaired? If you do, and no one else will…” 

Margaret said no more. Carter focused on the dance, spinning and guiding Margaret through the remainder of the set. When the song was done, Lady Middleton called another. The musicians played the first few notes and then Carter broke his silence. 

“No,” he said, with finality. 

Margaret let the word wash over her. The look on his face was hard. She felt his refusal in her bones. “Then perhaps Mr. Abington is not the only one in the wrong.”

A flash of surprise before another of anger. Finally, a calm blank replaced all the emotion on his face and they spoke no more. 

The next dance was claimed by one of the Captains Devon, who spent the entirety of the dance amusing Margaret with a humorous retelling of a naval battle he had triumphed in. She suspected the giant squid was a fabrication. Every dance thereafter was easy, sometimes silent, and entirely uneventful. When dinner was called at midnight, Catherine and Margaret found each other. They collapsed in chairs and were enjoying claret and white soup when Catherine asked how her partners had been. 

“All gentlemen, all quite good. Even Sir John, who is quite light footed for his age. And yours?”

“LIkewise. Except for Sir John, I did not dance with him.”

“Maybe after dinner,” Margaret offered. 

“And Captain Carter?” Catherine asked, as though she could not keep the question inside.

“What of him?” Margaret felt more was being asked then she realized.

“You seemed very deep in conversation during the dance.”

“Ah,” Margaret took a sip of her claret to give her a moment to consider the answer. “Yes. You could say the conversation took a… philosophical bent.”

“How so?”

“On the nature of right and wrong, blame and redemption. He did not like my opinions.”

The next course came then and they spoke of their partners no more. When dinner was over Mr. Abington appeared at her side with great alacrity, offering his arm and requesting the next dance. Margaret consented most readily, and Catherine rose to join them in the ballroom, the better to catch someone’s eye. 

Margaret and Mr. Abington were close to the top of the set and they spoke meaninglessly as the rest of the line filled in. It was only when Margaret glanced that she saw there were only two unmatched dancers left. Sir John had her mother on his arm and was leading her to the set when he stopped to speak with Captain Carter. It was obvious from his manner and gestures that he was entreating the Captain to ask the wallflower to dance. It was only right, as they were the last two left standing and it would be exceedingly bad form for him to let the young lady sit the dancing out. Even as Catherine shook her head, no doubt reassuring Sir John that she was happy to sit the dance out, Margaret could see that it would be to no avail. She knew SIr John too well. He would not join the set or let the dance begin until all were matched. 

So it was with stiff formality that Captain Carter approached Catherine, and requested the honor of her company in the dance. And it was with great apprehension that Catherine accepted.

Mr. Abington set his jaw and took a step out of the line, but Margaret stopped him. “If you intervene now it will only raise questions. If they themselves were not willing to give the reason we should not either. It will only be for two songs. Then they will be able to find other partners and it will be as though nothing happened.” Margaret suspected the last part was not quite true, but Mr. Abington appeared reassured.

The music began and Margaret wanted to smile and flirt with Mr. Abington, but neither of them could stop glancing to the end of the line. Catherine missed several steps in the first few measures. And Captain Carter, who Margaret remembered as being quite an adept dancer, got flustered and even tread on Catherine’s toes. He looked ready to quit then, but Catherine took a deep breath, bobbed her head to the music as she made eye contact with the Captain, and they began again. 

As the two of them found their way back to the music, she could see the movement of lips from time to time. Mr. Abington noticed as well. “He better not upset her even worse than he already has,” he muttered. 

Margaret took his hands in hers and gave them an extra squeeze as they stepped in and out. “Give them a chance,” Margaret told him. “Your sister is stronger than you think. And I wonder if the Captain deserves more credit than you have been willing to give him.”

Mr. Abington looked utterly baffled. “After everything I told you, what could you mean by that?”

Margaret only shrugged. “He is a man grown, as are you. Perhaps you should do away with youthful grudges.”

Whether or not it was good advise, Mr. Abington could not follow it. He was steeped in suspicion until the last note was played of the second dance. And then Catherine and Carter went their separate ways. Margaret went to Catherine expressly. When she saw Mr. Abington walk in the direction of the Captain, she grabbed his sleeve and dragged him with her. 

“Are you quite well?” Margaret asked her friend.

Catherine took a long drink of Madeira. “Quite,” she answered finally. 

“He must have done that on purpose,” Mr. Abington growled. “To embarrass you.”

“No,” Catherine objected. “I’m sure he did not. Neither of us… no one wanted that but Sir John. But it was fine Henry. Please. Let’s just forget it.”

“Well I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the dance. If no one else will dance with you I will, just to stop him from asking you again.”

That made Catherine laugh. “No Henry, you mustn't. Now you are being the unreasonable one. It is fine. I am fine. There was no harm done.” Catherine took another long drink of her wine, and Margaret saw that over the cup her eyes were watching the Captain. When she looked to the Captain his face was perplexed and his eyes were far away. He did not dance again for the rest of the night, retiring early. Catherine tried to enjoy herself, but soon after Carter’s departure, she excused herself as well. Margaret walked her friend back to her room. She said nothing, ready to let her friend speak whatever was on her mind. But Catherine remained silent.

@janeuary-month

Notes: this was a legitimately hard chapter to write. I have kinda depended on my knowledge of Austen books/movies to make it through until this one, but I felt like I needed to do a lot of research into Regency Balls, especially the etiquette that surrounded them, to get this one right. It's also doing a lot of heavy lifting plot wise.

I also feel like I've lost the Austenian voice (or at least my version of it) that I had back in January, when I was listening to Austen novels and watching Austen miniseries non-stop. So, I hope my research gives it a bit of verisimilitude.

If you're interested here are the resources I used for the balls:

Blog | Regency History

How to behave in a Regency ballroom

https://www.regencydances.org/etiquette.php

Refreshment options and service methods during a ball

Supper at the Netherfield Ball: Pride and Prejudice

Inquiring Readers: This is the third of four posts in honor for Pride and Prejudice Without Zombies, Austenprose’s in-depth reading of Pride

[obscureau]

Sisters and Liars

chapter 9

They rode home in silence. When they reached the Fitzwilliam’s town house Georgiana left the cab without a word. She entered the house and went immediately to her room. Kitty followed her example and remained in her room the rest of the day. But when Georgiana did not come down for dinner, Kitty decided it was time to break the silence. She excused herself from the table and went to Georgiana’s door, tapping as loudly as she dared. She heard neither summons nor dismissal, so she chose to enter. 

Georgiana was still in her walking dress. It looked as though she had collapsed on her bed when they had come home and she had not moved since.

“Why did you do it? Why did you tell them who we really are?”

“He insulted you. Well, me. I mean to say, he thought the Bennet girl was taking advantage of his brother.”

“Oh.” Kitty hadn’t expected understanding from Georgiana, but in that one little word Georgiana communicated so much. 

Kitty laid down across from Georgiana. Her friends blank face focused on Kitty. “I’m sorry Gigi. Really. Mr. Muir is a gentleman in name only. He has no real manners, only pretensions. I should not have, but I let him upset me. Though as you said, their opinions of us don’t matter. We were not hoping for anything more than a short amusement… is that not true?”

Georgiana looked at Kitty miserably. “We should leave.” 

“What will you tell your cousin?”

With that Georgiana broke, covering her face with her hands and sobbing. “I don’t know!”

They lay there, in misery together, until a knock sounded on the door. “Miss Darcy? A letter came for you in the evening post. Would you like to see it now?”

Georgiana’s expression changed to puzzlement. Neither of them were expecting post. She quickly straightened herself and went to the door. 

“Thank you, Bass,” she said, taking the envelope from the footman. 

She looked at the direction, the handwriting, and gulped. She handed the letter to Kitty and hid her face in her hands. “I can’t read it. Please, you do it.” 

Kitty’s hands shook as she opened the letter from Mr. Arthur Muir and began to read. 

“To Miss Darcy, or Miss Bennet,

I scarcely know how to address you. Perhaps I should merely call you the lady who has ensnared my heart, for I must admit my admiration and affection for you has grown quite against my will. 

As you know, I plan to travel the continent and make a study of architecture and art. There is little room for a wife in such plans, so I had planned quite resolutely against one. But I have never met a woman whose love of art, music, and history have so rivaled my own. And just as I had started to question every dearly held scheme I learned the truth: you are not who you claim to be. so any claim on my heart should perhaps also be forfeit. Perhaps every moment we spent together was only a game to you. That it never felt thus to me only furthers the cruelty of your machinations, if your deception was meant as such. 

And yet, when I think of it, of never hearing you laugh again or your thoughts on a painting, or indeed the sound of my own name on your lips, I become quite sick with dread. 

Please say that you will see me again. My brother is quite enraged and so I fear a social visit around town may be quite out of the question. But if I may have your leave to visit you at home in the morning, if you have anything you wish me to know or are willing to hear any more from me, I entreat you, please allow it. I will not know rest until I see your reply. 

Your faithful servant,

Arthur Muir”

Hope shone out of Georgiana’s eyes. “Could it be true?”

Kitty’s eyes flew over his words again and again. “If he meant to upbraid you surely he would not do so in your cousin’s sitting room.” Georgiana laughed at that. “But Gigi, tell me truly, if he proposed, would you accept him? After what you said before, only desiring good company and conversation but not marriage… have you changed your mind so entirely?” 

Georgiana leapt from her bed and started to scribble a note as fast as she could. “Would you think me the greatest fool in the world if I said yes?”

“No, only lucky.” Kitty smiled sadly, jealousy gnawing at her heart.

Georgiana finished her note and used the blotter in such haste the words ran, but only a little. She folded the paper and wrote the direction, flying passed Kitty to the door to call out for Bass, only to see him already there, preparing to knock. 

“Oh, Bass, thank goodness. Can you please send this right away?” 

“Yes Miss Darcy, but here, there’s another letter. This one for Miss Bennet.”

He exchanged letters with Georgiana and went on his way. Georgiana, in her turn, passed the note on to Kitty. 

Kitty took in the direction, written in fine penmanship, then broke the seal. Her eyes dropped to the signature first. It was from Captain Tilghman. 

@janeuary-month

[obscureau]

Margaret and the Melodrama

Chapter 11

The young Athenians had taken to the stage and the fairy court sat at the wayside, watching them profess love, revenge, and any number of unseemly plots to each other. The Naval contingent watched as well, with Captain Carter following along with the script to give cues. But his help did not seem necessary, so as his attention started to drift and his eyes landed on Margaret, she gave him a smile and beckoned him to join her. 

“It’s coming along nicely, do you not think?” He asked her in a whisper.

“Indeed. I think we will be a proper theatrical company by Twelfth Night,” Margaret laughed.

“And then what? Shall we tour the county with our performances, collecting pennies and scandal along the way?”

“Can the Navy spare you as long as that?” she feigned concern.

“I suppose they must, if the public demands it.”

The captain’s eyes flitted over her shoulder and his expression darkened. Margaret suspected he’d caught the scorn of her theatrical husband. Which turned her thoughts towards what she had learned of him and the Abingtons.

“Do you like Shakespeare?” she inquired of her friend.

“Of course, was I not the one who insisted on Twelfth Night?”

“And what of his other works? The tragedies like Romeo and Juliet? Something that always struck me in that play was how it could have ended differently if only the messages had arrived on time and accurately.”

Carter looked at her with puzzlement combined with a touch of suspicion, but all he said was, “Yes?”

“But my favorite Shakespeare play is Much Ado About Nothing.”

His smile grew at that. “Do you see yourself in Beatrice, as all intelligent young ladies are wont to do?”

Margaret laughed. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But then I think of what happened to Hero, how a twist of the truth almost destroyed everyone’s happiness. Friendships, marriages, alliances… and if they hadn’t discovered the truth Hero may have actually died of a broken heart.”

“No one has ever truly died of a broken heart,” Captain Carter murmured. 

Margaret looked at her friend, Catherine, in the guise of Helena. “Perhaps not,” she thought of her sister Marianne and her brother Colonel Brandon. “But I think sometimes it is a very near thing.”

He followed her gaze and a crease lined his brow. “Why do you ask?”

Margaret shook her head, as though she was coming out of a day dream. “Oh, no reason. I was just thinking about all the ways Shakespeare had of torturing his poor characters. He was quite good at it, don’t you think?”

The captain did not answer, turning once more to watch the younger set in their rehearsal.

@janeuary-month

[obscureau]

Sisters and Liars

a note before the chapter starts: as I was rereading what I wrote to prepare to start writing again, I realized that I never posted this, the true Ch. 6 for day 18 “Headware”. The previously posted chapter 6 is actually chapter seven and I have edited that post to indicate as such. I’ll also update AO3. Sorry for the switcheroo

Ch 6

A note came from the Muir brothers a few days later. Would the ladies like to join them in a box at the opera?

Georgiana could think of nothing she would like better. She had been so sheltered by her brother but was a true adept at music, so any chance for a recital could not be missed. 

The girls had come prepared for evenings out with lovely gowns, but Kitty had not brought any jewels. Kitty had not thought this would be a concern, however Georgiana disagreed. After all, she told Kitty, Miss Bennet may not wear jewels to the opera but Miss Darcy certainly would. But how could Kitty put them on at home without the colonel suspecting something? 

The answer was simple, she would not. The ladies donned their gowns and jewels and left, using the carriage that Colonel Fitzwilliam had generously offered them. Then, in the carriage they exchanged their accessories. Kitty had only a silver bangle and a cameo on a ribbon. Georgiana slipped them on with alacrity. But Georgiana had a set of gorgeous jewels that she had to help Kitty put on. A bracelet over her long gloves. A jeweled necklace that rested just above Kitty’s collar bone. And a small, but gorgeous tiara. Georgiana pinned it into place quickly, finishing the final pin after the carriage had come to a stop but before the footman opened the doors to hand them out. Georgiana exited first. Kitty was left to rebalance the circlet as best she could. 

The Muir brothers were waiting for them. Arthur already had Georgiana’s hand in his arm when Kitty’s feet found the cobble stones. Mr. Muir held out his own arm to Kitty, beaming at her in her borrowed finery. 

As everywhere in Bath, the opera existed as a source of entertainment second to its primary purpose: as a place to see and be seen. While Miss Darcy and Mr. Arthur Muir spoke excitedly about Beethoven Mr. Muir practiced his posture like a ballerina, chin held high and shapely calves extended to best effect. Miss Bennet had no choice but to match his airs, as she fought to keep the tiara centered on her head. They drew notice from all as they made their way to the private box on the mezzanine. Mr. Muir was obviously and increasingly pleased. He knew they looked exquisite. 

They settled into the box and opera glasses were produced before the music even began. Mr. Muir was using them to look at the other boxes while Georgiana and Mr. Arthur Muir looked at each other, giggling. Only Kitty’s remained unused as she struggled with her tiara as subtly as possible. 

When the music began all eyes turned to the stage. Kitty tried to focus on the music but she felt the jewels slip one more from the pins and start to slide towards one ear. 

“Please excuse me,” she whispered, though no one marked her. 

She left the box determined to find a powder room with a mirror. She was certain that if she only had some time to commit herself to securing the tiara without attempting subtly she could make fast work of the problem. She turned one way and then the other. She’d been so focused on maintaining a perfectly upright head that she hadn’t had the opportunity to look for any rooms that might offer her respite. With no clue where to turn, she simply wandered. 

It was with great relief that she found what she was looking for. She was right about the circlet. She had not spent years fixing both Lydia and Mary’s hair to now be conquered by her own. It was quickly managed and when she gave her head a shake to check its secured attachment, she was relieved to find it was indeed tightly and unmovingly pinned down. 

It was a greatly reassured Kitty who exited the powder room, only to realize she had absolutely no idea how to return to the box. But she was not perturbed. While she did not think simply wandering would bring her back to the box she felt certain it would guide her to someone, likely an usher, who would be able to assist her back to her seat. 

But perhaps she had underappreciated the opera’s appeal or perhaps all the ushers were simply otherwise engaged, but as Kitty roamed the halls she found no one who could help her. Growing increasingly anxious of the time she’d been away she began to make frantic and increasingly irrational choices. She went down stairs, through closed doors. Was this an opera house or a maze, she wondered. The music grew louder and louder until, quite unexpectedly, she found herself backstage. Gone were the fine wall paper and curtains. Bare wood and low light surrounded her. She tried to turn around but found the door had locked behind her. This felt beyond ridiculous. This felt like a cruel joke. 

She thought about banging on the door until someone answered, but she knew there was a chance she would disrupt the whole opera. So she did the only thing she felt she could - she went in search of an unlocked door. She had not gone far before she saw a gentleman in evening dress with his back to her. She did not want to shout to him, so she approached and touched his shoulder.

The man did not start until he turned around and saw her face. “Miss Bennet,” said Captain Tilghman, “what are you doing here?”

“Me?” Asked Kitty, temporarily forgetting her predicament in light of his unexpected appearance. “What are you doing at the opera. I thought you couldn’t hear?”

“Ah,” he nodded at her. “I cannot hear with my ears. But sometimes I can feel the music. Let me show you.”

And he took her hand and gently removed her glove. Kitty’s breath stopped. Then he gently held her hand to the wall. It vibrated underneath her fingers. 

“The orchestra pit is just on the other side of this wall,” Captain Tilghman said. “I have an understanding with the management. While I cannot hear the music if I touch the wall like so…” 

He placed his forehead against the wall. He closed his eyes and his face relaxed. Kitty understood. Suddenly remembering himself his eyes popped open once more. “But you do not have the same concerns that I do. So what has brought you here?”

Kitty sighed and confessed. “I’m lost.”

Tilghman chuckled. “Quite lost, I should say. Where were you trying to go?”

“The boxes.”

“Right, this way then.” He offered his arm and Kitty took it gratefully. Soon they were back in an ornate hallway, and two staircases later he was pointing her toward the boxes. She could find her way from there. 

As she returned to the box, intermission was just beginning. No one seemed to have missed her. All three of her companions had champagne flutes. Mr. Muir handed Kitty one immediately upon her arrival. “I think I’ll have another,” Georgiana giggled.

“Are you sure?” asked Mr. Arthur Muir. 

“Of course, I wouldn’t want Kitty to drink-” she hiccuped “-alone!”

The rest of the intermission was passed in conversation, with Georgiana giving her enthusiastic opinion. Unfortunately, she did not stop when the music resumed. She continued to remark on the opera in an impolite tone, much to the amusement of Mr. Muir and apparently annoyance of their neighbors in other boxes. Mr. Arthur Muir did his best to quiet her, but with only temporary success. When the opera ended Georgiana sprang to her feet with a very heartfelt applause. And with very little hesitation, Mr. Arthur Muir took her hand and guided her out the door, hoping, no doubt, to escape the oncoming crush from the rest of the audience’s escape. 

Georgiana continued to speak in loud, admiring language as they made their escape, with Mr. Muir and Kitty close behind. While Mr. Arthur Muir clearly found it charming, the rest of the audience did not. As they formed the crowd slowly descending back to the street to wait on carriages and taxis, Kitty heard whispers. “That Bennet girl,” and “Just like the sister,” and “Made herself ridiculous.” 

Kitty’s heart sank. “Don’t worry,” Mr. Muir told her. “She is your companion but her behavior does not reflect poorly on you.” 

There was a long wait for the carriage and by the time it finally arrived Kitty felt ready to crawl out of her skin. She was handed into the carriage by Mr. Muir and had to help pull Georgiana in after her. 

As the carriage pulled away from the theatre Georgiana sighed contentedly. “What a lovely night. I never have that much fun.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Kitty said coldly, she pulled the borrowed jewels off and practically slung them at Georgiana, “especially the part where you dragged my reputation through the mud.”

Georgiana started. “W-what do you mean?”

“While I was in your jewels, you were in my name. Drinking and giggling and making a spectacle of yourself - or should I say myself? Georgiana, you know my family’s reputation. My sisters and I are thought silly, unseriously, uncontrollable. Tonight you proved them all right.”

“I don’t think-”

“No, you did not,” Kitty cut her off. “While you are able to shake off your responsibilities when you put on my name I must live with whatever foolish mistakes you might make. Have you even thought about how you might hurt me like that?”

Georgiana looked at her lap, where she held the jewels limply. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “You are right. I should have thought about what I was doing. How it affects you. I won’t do it again.”

Now it was Kitty’s turn to sigh. Georgiana had softened her heart. She took her friend’s hand. They rode the rest of the way home in heavy silence. Kitty praying that the foolishness of one night would not be enough to mark the rest of their time in Bath. 

@janeuary-month

[taradactyls]

For the Janeuary prompts - day 20 Dearest

If you feel inspired, I would love some Kity Bennet/Colonel Fitzwilliam fluff ❤️ It‘s such a small fandom and deserves some nice fics.

Thank you so much for taking prompts!

It's taken over a year... but let's just pretend it was for @janeuary-month 2026 Day 31: Dearest

You asked for fluff but I hope you also like some angst and yearning, because I ended up writing almost 22k.

I didn't even know this fandom existed before this ask, but this fic consumed my life for awhile there and converted my beta reader, so I hope you enjoy it <3

There's a snipped below, and you can read the whole thing on ao3.

Someone's Dearest

Miss Catherine ‘Kitty’ Bennet was the dearest child of neither her mother nor father. Those positions belonged to Lydia Wickham and Elizabeth Darcy, respectively. Yet Kitty did not mind, because that honour seemed to come paired with being the least dear to the opposing parent (though – after Lizzy’s great marriage their mother’s affection for her seemed to increase). No, it was far more comfortable being the second or third favourite of their mother (depending on how much Mrs Bennet desired excitement and gossip over admiring Jane’s serene beauty and steady sense) and third or fourth of her father (depending on how preachy Mary was being that day).

She had been “Kitty dearest” to Lydia, but had not always appreciated it enough. It came with so many squabbles over the borrowing of clothes, stealing of wardrobe space, and arguing over whether they were allowed to hint to a man to ask them for the first dance even though the other had expressed her admiration for him first. It could be quite exhausting at times. Especially when she was scolded for keeping Lydia’s confidences that July before she married Wickham. Which Kitty felt was completely unjust. Two years before, everyone had been so cross at her for sharing what Mrs Goulding had written to Mamma because “Correspondence must always be private!”

And then it was very unfair how strict her father had been with her following Lydia’s elopement. It was not like she had done it! At least his threats of no balls and never stirring out of doors had not materialised. And she was getting scolded less, with Lydia gone. Before, their mother always took Lydia’s side in quarrels, and their father blamed them both for ideas which had been largely Lydia’s. Even if Kitty had happily gone along with those schemes most of the time, it still was not fair how often being Lydia’s dearest involved being rebuked.

Mostly, however, Kitty had loved it so. Perhaps even more now that it was ended. Since Lydia had gone so far away, and Kitty never permitted to visit, it really did not much signify that she was still the dearest to Lydia of all her sisters. She had become Mrs Wickham, anyway, with a husband to be her real dearest, and now little Georgie too. That would make Kitty the third dearest. A familiar position, at least.

She explained all this to Georgiana one day, who seemed to think it a sad thing. “You are very dear to me, Catherine,” insisted she, grabbing Kitty’s hands. “I hope you never doubt that.”

Kitty looked to her in bewilderment. “Of course I do not doubt your friendship! We are essentially sisters, after all. But really, I am sure I am not saying anything so very shocking – in a large family most children must find their situation similar to mine.”

But Georgiana continued to frown. “I do not believe most children could place their – position in the hearts of their family so readily. I should think that for the greatest share of parents the distinctions are so small it would be hard to evaluate even for themselves. Or else the love is so liberally spread a child never has cause to wonder.”

“Really?” asked Kitty.

“I am sure it is so. I cannot accept it is a weight the majority are burdened by.”

After a moment’s ponderance, Kitty said “I think you just feel that way because you believe it naturally follows that such knowledge is painful. But it does not have to be.”

“Catherine –”

“Take us, for example. I have nothing more to ask of your friendship, and it does not hurt me to recognise that you love Lizzy yet more than me. Or your brother, too.” Kitty shrugged. “That just makes me third again. Maybe fourth, in a few months, once Lizzy has her baby. But I am not childish enough to think any of that lessens the love you have for me. It is merely the truth,” said she.

That shocked Georgiana into contemplative silence for some time. But with Kitty beginning to look at her questioningly, she said “My dear Catherine, I cannot tell whether you are a great philosopher, or far too acclimatised to neglect.”

As Kitty had never been considered, by herself or others, philosophical, and was more generally accused of being a little spoilt, she had no answer.

Sometimes Georgiana would approach near the topic again, but Kitty never entered into it. She did not want to see that melancholy look on her friend’s countenance, nor seriously consider whether other families did not have a complaining mother and dismissive father who were both quick to denigrate, and Georgiana was too considerate to force it. But she did say once, after Kitty returned to Pemberley following three months at Longbourn, “Do you remember telling me you felt you are nobody’s dearest? My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, mentioned something that reminded me of it while he visited here.”

“From your expression I can guess that it was similar to my sentiments,” said Kitty.

“Yes. He said that younger sons very often become less dear and more burdensome to a father once they are grown.”

“Really? I am used to parents always wishing they had a son. But,” said Kitty, thinking it over, “I suppose the letters patent for the Earl’s title exclude younger sons and daughters just as much as Longbourn’s entail does. So perhaps it is only an eldest son that is always wanted.”

She had never before thought that she might be able to sympathise with the position of an earl’s son.

Kitty knew the Colonel by reputation long before she ever met him. He was away fighting Napoleon for much of the time, and though Kitty spent fair half of every year at Pemberley she never did seem to be there when Mr Darcy’s relations were staying. Nor did she succeed in persuading Lizzy to take her to London. But from her experience with Colonel Forster, and how Georgiana always spoke of her cousin as a very attentive guardian, she was picturing someone rather humdrum, for all that he was an officer.

This supposition was not entirely discredited when she eventually did meet Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Georgiana had not felt comfortable having her first season until eighteen, and even then was quite shy at the prospect of entering society. She specifically requested “May dear Catherine please accompany us? It would be such a relief, to have another friend there.”

To which Kitty had very earnestly begged “Oh, yes Lizzy, please let me come! I shall behave ever so properly.”

After promising to obey every rule her sister or Mr Darcy put in place, she had at last been brought to London. The balls! The gentlemen! The shops!

Was it any wonder that she had little attention to spare for a colonel who was not even in his regimentals? It made him infinitely less interesting than others of his brother-officers, though they were ‘only’ captains. Yes, he was more manly in appearance than she expected, and much more lively and entertaining, but though he was very fun to have at a dinner table there were others who were more eager to win her smiles and offer her a dance. She enjoyed their attentions immensely, but aunt Gardiner’s opinion, after a particularly effusive panegyric of the merits of soldiers, was that Kitty would be better off marrying a man in a quiet occupation – perhaps a clergyman. Somehow that sounded like sacrilege to Kitty.

Her aunt was an accurate judge of the suitability of her current potential suitors, however. None of them impressed Kitty enough to win her heart. Whenever she began to suspect they hoped for her hand she drew back in intimacy. It helped that she needed only tell Lizzy of her feelings, and her sister would step in to say “Miss Bennet is not at liberty to walk in Hyde Park today, I am sorry, sir.”

For his part, the Colonel saw the excitable sister of his cousin: very bad at cards and behaving exactly as one might expect of a pretty young woman first exposed to all the delights of town. But how good it was to perceive how she was able to make Georgiana smile and giggle as they whispered secrets, like the carefree young woman she always should have been. Georgiana had a true sister in Mrs Darcy, but a close friend her own age in Miss Catherine Bennet. And she flourished under the love and support the two more confident women did not hesitate to bestow upon her.

When his cousin confessed he was worried Catherine’s behaviour could influence Georgiana, the Colonel was able to honestly reply “Darcy, I have seen no wildness from Miss Bennet, however she may have acted when you first met, but much good from her loyalty and friendship with your sister. Honestly, she is rather charming. I say keep them together as long as both wish it.”

The following year, when Kitty again saw Colonel Fitzwilliam in London, he was in his scarlet coat. Fresh with the honours of all those who had returned alive from Waterloo. At first Kitty was a little overcome with having a hero in their midst, but he was still the same friendly gentleman as the year before and so her blushes soon became more moderate.

They did not entirely abate, however.

Given she was not in the fever of admiration which had characterised all her previous preferences, she gave it little thought. He was more of a friend, really – a dashing soldier friend who occasionally made her blush. It barely occurred thrice a week; which, considering how regularly Kitty encountered him, was not even a reaction worth including in her letters. The first time she mentioned him, beyond as one of many in a list of who attended what, was when she wrote to her correspondence “I danced the third with Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was a better partner than any of the others I had that evening. He kept me laughing almost the entire set, and looked very becoming. But as he also danced with Georgiana and Lizzy, I do not think it much signifies.”

To which her mother responded: “How good of dear Mrs Darcy, to arrange for you to dance with the son of an earl! I bet that made many other young men take notice of you. Is the Colonel to inherit anything? I thought he was not, but of course, that may change. It would be very good if he might be given a barony or some such for his work against Napoleon. Are any of his friends very rich? You might ask him to introduce you. It is only right to keep your dance card full.”

Lydia’s reply was even less satisfactory. “How lucky you are to have so many beaus in town!” she wrote. “There are scarce any in Portsmouth. But Wickham’s friend is allowing us to stay without asking us to cover the added expenses, so I ought not to complain, though they do not pay for our tickets when we go to the local theatre or anything fun. They barely entertain at all! Except the gentlemen sometimes visit a club. It is very dull here. Do you think the Colonel knows of any positions my dear Wickham would suit? It does not need to be in the army – if the Earl needs a steward or could secure a place at court, I am sure we would be very happy. Only think how much fun it would be for us both to be in London! It is a wonder Lizzy did not invite us to stay.”

Kitty did not include him in her letters again.

He was in attendance more often that season now he was freed from his duties abroad, as even someone with Colonel Fitzwilliam’s rank had little to offer the crown at present. Though, naturally, he did not struggle to shift for himself the way many of the common infantrymen – without home or sufficient income – were forced to. While in town he always had a home in St James’s Square with his father, the Earl, though he preferred to stay with the Darcys in Mayfair.

Kitty wondered at his shunning of his noble home, until she happened to be present one morning when the Earl called. More specifically, present in the library when she was not meant to be.

It was completely unintentional; she had only been looking for a hiding spot. Little Anne Darcy, chubby fingers curled around her aunt Georgiana’s hand, was meant to toddle in after a minute or two and find her. Nothing set Annie to giggling like playing hide-and-go-seek with her aunts.

But when the door opened, it was Colonel Fitzwilliam and his father who entered. They did not notice her shoes peeping out from the curtain. Before she could announce her presence and quit the room, the Earl’s tone made her freeze.

Continue reading here

_________

Ask me a question | Austen Discussions | Ao3 | Ko-fi

[obscureau]

Margaret and the Melodrama

Ch. 10

All who had witnessed the near calamity in the library felt very overwhelmed. The room emptied out and maids and footmen were called to rearrange and fix the mess. Miss Abington felt quite faint and Lady Middleton gave her some lavender water to help her spirits calm. 

Captain Carter guided Margaret from the room and when she was safely seated next to her mother in the sitting room, he returned to help with reordering the area. Miss Abington found the seat next to Margaret and little by little her nerves faded away. Tea was called for and everyone partook.

“I think I need a change of scenery, if you’ll forgive the pun,” Margaret said. She bundled herself up and stepped outside. She had not been out since she and Captain Carter had rescued Judith, but she found that with no wind and bright sun the garden was almost pleasant. It felt good to be outside and alone instead of with the increasing claustrophobia of unchanged society for a week. She breathed the cold air deeply and felt a little more tension leave her body.

She had not been out for long when she heard the crunch of snow behind her. She turned to find Mr. Abington there, looking grim and mortified. He was to blame for the library upset but it hadn’t been intentional and she resolved to lift his spirits. 

“Mr. Abington, thank you for acting so fast. You endangered yourself to protect your sister and I.”

“Well it was my own fault it happened at all,” he grumbled and looked abashed. 

“But all is well. No one was injured after all.” 

“I may yet do some damage,” he muttered, frustration evident. 

“What do you mean?”

He sighed heavily. “Please understand that what I tell you I hope you hold in deepest confidence. I only do so in order to protect you.” Margaret was taken aback by such grave declarations but she remained still, listening. “I saw how Captain Carter rescued you, how you embraced him afterwards. I know how he seems, dashing and heroic. But he is not a man of honor.” 

Margaret’s blood went colder than the snow that surrounded them. Had she really seemed so taken with the captain? She had braced against him, yes, but in the heat of the moment she had only thought of her safety not of her savior. And why was Mr. Abington even commenting on such a thing? It all felt very untoward.

“I assure you Mr. Abington, I was not imaging a romance in the moments of our near injury in the library. I was focused only on the situation. I think you place too much importance on the event.” 

“That may be,” he looked deeply uncomfortable, “but I know how these things sometimes go. You may feel endebted or impressed and then…”

“And then what?”

“Have you not noticed? Not seen how you have been the object of his attention and action since he arrived?” 

Margaret froze. Captain Carter had certainly been attentive. Had complimented her on more than one occasion. But he had stopped short of showing any real interest in courtship or romance. Margaret was all too aware of how reading into a man’s disinterested flirtations could lead to ruin and heartbreak and she had no intention of finding herself in that position.  “And what, may I ask Mr. Abington, is your concern for the situation?” Margaret spoke deliberately, more than one question clearly asked. 

Mr. Abington went quite red and refused to answer one of them. “I would not see you suffer the same fate as my sister.”

Now that took Margaret by surprise. “What happened to Catherine?”

Mr. Abington had the face of a much older man. “She was all but ruined.”

“Carter and I have known each other all our lives. We grew up in the same county in the same circle of families. We were quite fond of each other growing up, and he was also quite fond of my sister. Too fond, I would realize later, only when it was too late. 

“We went off to school together. And every break we came home and spent time with Catherine. There was nothing to make me suspect…”

“Then one year, after one such break we returned and a short while later I heard from someone else in the class that Carter was spreading rumors among our classmates about… Catherine. I heard many different versions from different people but the result was the same: Captain Carter had defamed my sister.”

“What did you do?”

“I was young and enraged and betrayed. I challenged him to a duel. An incredibly stupid idea, as he is far my superior in all things martial, even then. But I suspect that he failed to realize, even then, what a grave misstep he'd made when he dragged my sister's name through the dirt. He didn't anticipate how fiercely I would fight for her. Against all expectations, I won. But I couldn't make myself kill him, much as I wanted to. So instead i made him flee. He left school the next day and shortly after that joined the Navy.”

“And your sister was ruined?”

“No one truly believed the rumors. But no one wanted to be associated with her afterwards. Everyone knows the truth, but only I care. Miss Dashwood, you have no brothers to defend you and no fortune to provide for you. More than even my sister, you must beware of the advances and dangers of Captain Carter.”

* * *

It was not until Catherine Abington seemed quite recovered that Margaret finally allowed the conversation she'd had with her brother to pass her lips. They were on the piano bench, looking through different songs to play that evening, when Margaret finally worked up the nerve. 

“Catherine, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.” She did not look up from her task. 

“What happened between you and Captain Carter when you were young?”

Margaret had been thinking on it for hours. None of it seemed to fit quite right. People had survived rumors - even accurate rumors - far more damaging than teenaged trysts. But then she remembered Catherine's words. “I shall never marry.” There had to be more to the story.

“Who told you there was anything?” 

“Your brother said that Captain Carter had insulted your honor among his school chums and that's what caused their falling out. He does not seem the type of person to do that. Nor do I believe that you are the type of person who could sit idly by with him in your presence if such an insult had taken place. So what is the truth? What really happened between you?”

Catherine looked at her friend with tears in her eyes. “We were young. It was foolish but we believed we were… no we really were in love, young though we may have been. During every school break we stole moments together. And then one christmas, like this, he proposed. I said yes. It was so silly, we were so young. We both promised to keep it a secret until we were older. 

“Only he couldn't keep the secret. I found out when I recieved an angry letter from my brother demanding to know if anything improper had taken place between him and I. We had foolishly promised to marry when we were older, but we had not been inappropriate. I remembered our other promise, to keep it all a secret, so I denied everything. I had no idea what was happening at their school. All I could do was remain constant to the scheme we had devised.

“Later, I would recieve a letter from Carter. He had fled school and joined the Navy. It had always been his plan, he has an older brother and he felt it was the best plan for him to make his way. He told me that he had not been able to contain himself and had told one fellow. Unfortunately, the rumor had spread and twisted from there, and by the time if reached my brother it was no longer an innocent engagement between children. It was a demonizing, reputation destroying monster. It is no wonder my brother was so angry. But by then, so was Carter. He had felt I had betrayed him by keeping the secret. Such a small thing, a promise and a secret, and three hearts were broken.”

“Why not tell your brother the truth?”

Catherine shook her head. “He would never understand. Especially not now. It's too late. I have made my bed. Now I have no choice by to lie in it for the rest of my life.”

@janeuary-month

[firthbetterorfirthworse]

Thank you @janeuary-month for the prompts! Day 25: Farm

1837

The two youngest Darcys met outside their father's study door.

"What did you say?" hissed William.

"I am no tattle," Thomas replied hotly. "What did you do?"

Darcy opened the door abruptly, displeasure clear on his face. After a long moment, he bid them enter with only a sharp jerk of his head.

All bravado gone, the boys filed in uneasily. Now that they were in school they knew not all fathers were so free with their affection, but that did not mean that Darcy shirked as a disciplinarian. They stood before the desk, trying not to fidget, as their father sat behind it.

The silence was dreadful.

Eventually, Darcy spoke. "I do not know what has caused you two to quarrel all summer long."

"I -"

"He -"

Darcy held up a hand, and they fell silent. "I do not want to know. If someone has behaved in a manner that casts shame on the Darcy name, you may speak with me privately. Otherwise, it ends now." He looked between his sons, one defiant and one sullen, and dropped the final blow: "You have upset your mother."

Both boys paled.

"You have two days to resolve whatever is between you, or I send you to the Henderson farm until your next term begins."

William gaped. "To where?"

"Mr Henderson has broken his leg. They need extra labor around the farm right now."

Thomas broke in, horrified. "You would sentence us to hard labor because he will not -"

"I will sentence you to worse if you cause your mother to weep in my arms again," Darcy broke in severely. "Am I understood?"

"Perfectly, sir," they mumbled, chastened.

After another long moment, Darcy spoke again in a gentler tone. "I know how difficult it can be to put hard feelings behind you, but you must. You are each fine young gentlemen. I trust you will find a way."

It's still January on AO3, right?

[sunlit-di-s]

but this one means forever

Mrs. Ginevra Thomas has no intention of remarrying or falling in love for a second time. It hurt enough the first time. But some things are worth the hurt.

For @janeuary-month Day 23: Court

Chapter 12: acceptance

“Mrs. Potter,” she then said, and smiled suddenly.

Ginny’s heart lurched at the name, as it usually did.

Eventually she would get used to it, to not being Mrs. Thomas anymore.

She wasn’t sure if the thought made her happy or sad.

“It is very good to meet you,” the queen said, dragging her back to the present.

She dipped into a curtsy. “And you, Your Majesty.”

The queen herself was a widow, she remembered. King Consort Elphinstone had only died a few years prior.

She hadn’t remarried.

She wondered if she was going to be judged for her decision.

[janeuary-month]

End of event round-up!

Thank you to everyone who created such amazing fanworks for Janeuary 2026, and to those who supported the creators by reading, leaving kudos and comments, and liking and reblogging!

Major kudos to @annaofthenorthernlights, @jomiddlemarch, @mageofthepeople, rebobo, @gemilemon, @dcssculpture, and @cocoscurios who each created something for every single day of the event! Wow!

But even if you created for only one day, we’re so thrilled you did. As of today, 62 creators together added 290 fanworks related to Jane Austen into the world! That’s 118 more works than last year!

🙏 Before I give you any other stats, can I ask you to take 1-2 minutes to fill out this survey about the event? You don’t need to have created any works to fill it out. If you follow this blog, I want to hear from you. Thanks!

Hang on, one more thing: just because I’m sending this round-up post doesn’t mean you can’t keep submitting works! It’s not too late to post! I’ll update the stats in this post as people add more stuff.

Ok, now that that’s done, here are some other stats and observations!

Total # of all fanworks: 290

Fanfic: 182 works (view the entire collection on AO3)

Fanart: 53

Gifsets: 20

OC art: 12

Textile art: 9

Memes: 5

Clothing: 3

OC fic: 2

Comics: 2

Edits: 2

Videos: 2

Games: 2

Photography: 1

Animation: 1

Papercraft: 1

Podfic: 1

Interesting observations: While fanfic still dominates the event, many more artists and gifmakers participated this year compared to 2025. There were also completely new types of fanworks created: textile art, clothing, games, paper craft, and podfic. It was such fun to see the range of media used!

All fandoms: 31

Pride and Prejudice: 95 works

Persuasion: 54

Sense and Sensibility: 39

Emma: 34

Northanger Abbey: 23

Mansfield Park: 23

Original works (no fandom): 16

Frozen: 7

Jane Austen herself: 3

Hornblower: 3

Superman: 3

2 works each: Sanditon, Bridgerton, Good Omens, Jurassic Park, Les Colombes du Roi-Soleil, X-men

1 work each: Alster Diamonds, Attack on Titan, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Avatar: The Legend of Korra, Baldur’s Gate 3, Beauty and the Beast, La Demoiselle d'Avignon, The Edelstein/Ruby Red Trilogy, Encanto, The Golden Compass, Harry Potter, Heated Rivalry, Temeraire, The X-Files, You’ve Got Mail

Top 10 daily prompts used:

1. Day 1 Garden: 32 works 2. Day 6 Navy: 22 3. Day 3 Restraint: 21 4. Day 8 Bath and Day 14 Yearning are tied: 20 works each 6. Day 2 Fireplace and Day 21 Secrets are tied: 19 each 8. Day 4 Needlework: 18 9. Day 12 Looking glass and Day 31 Dearest are tied: 17

Interesting observations: In 2025 and 2026, the most popular prompt was for Day 1 both times. Works drop off as the month goes along, which is curious since people have more time to complete works for the later dates. Navy was the least popular prompt in 2025, yet the second most popular prompt in 2026. In fact, 5 of the top 10 prompts were reused from 2025, yet still took the top 4 spots this year, and all of them except Navy were also in the top 10 (actually 13 because of ties) prompts last year.

Top 10 characters used:

1. Fitzwilliam Darcy 2. Elizabeth Bennet 3. Anne Elliot 4. Captain Wentworth 5. Marianne Dashwood 6. Fanny Price 7. Catherine Morland, Colonel Brandon, Emma Woodhouse tied 10. George Knightley

Interesting observations: Darcy beat out his wife Elizabeth by 1 work this year; last year she beat him by 1. Otherwise, the leading ladies always beat out their gentlemen, just like last year. Fanny Price didn’t crack the top 10 last year, but made it to spot #6 this year, booting Henry Tilney from the top 10. Emma fell from spot #4 to #7 this year, and her husband fell from #8 to #10, yet as a ship they stayed strong at spot #3 (see below).

Top 10 ships used:

Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy

Anne Elliot/Captain Wentworth

George Knightley/Emma Woodhouse

Colonel Brandon/Marianne Dashwood

Catherine Morland/Henry Tilney

Charles Bingley/Jane Bennet, Charlotte Lucas/Mr. Collins, Elinor Dashwood/Edward Ferrars tied

Frank Churchill/Jane Fairfax, Robert Martin/Harriet Smith tied

Interesting observations: The top 6 are identical to last year. 2025 had 3 platonic ships in the top 10, but none cracked the list this year. Elinor/Edward didn’t make the list last year but tied for #6 this year. Edmund/Fanny, another canon MC couple, didn’t make it either year—but at least this year, they got 1 work. Last year, they had 0. Yikes.

A few other interesting observations

More diversity in romantic pairings: In 2025, there were 0 same-sex romantic ships, which made me very sad. This year, there were 9 (6 f/f and 3 m/m), yay! There were also 11 straight but non-canon romantic pairings, compared to 7 last year.

But less diversity in platonic pairings: There were far fewer platonic ships depicted overall. I think this is mostly due to people almost never tagging the platonic pairings in their fics this year, for some reason, but it does also seem to be the case that there were just more romantic works this year than last. A few semi-prominent side characters didn’t appear in a single work this year because of the focus on romantic ships.

Prompt interpretation: My goal with the prompts was that they be somewhat Austen/Regency-specific but not the standard, obvious choices like balls, dancing, proposals, etc., because those wouldn’t be very inspiring since they’re so common already. It was a joy to see the different ways that people used the prompts, just like last year. For instance, navy the color vs Navy the military organization, or silk gloves vs boxing gloves, or court the place vs court the activity. Bravo on everyone’s creativity!

👉  If you have any suggestions for prompts for next year, or other feedback, I’d love it if you shared it with me via this very short and easy survey!

Because of all of you making this event great, Janeuary will definitely be back for 2027! Keep your eyes peeled for the new prompts in September!

(And in the meantime, it’s still not too late to post for 2026!)

[sunlit-di-s]

but this one means forever

Mrs. Ginevra Thomas has no intention of remarrying or falling in love for a second time. It hurt enough the first time. But some things are worth the hurt.

For @janeuary-month Day 31: Dearest

Chapter 11: catharsis

When the door swung open though, and she prepared to alight, it was not her servant looking back at her.

No, it was a delighted, mischievous smile on the face of the man she loved.

She leapt into his arms, uncaring of who would see, of what they would think.

He made a noise of surprise but caught her nevertheless.

“You are so incredibly fortunate only I am here,” Hermione chided, but with a smile. She reached out to take Ginny’s hand as Harry set her down, carefully, as though she were the most precious cargo he’d ever carried, hands lingering on her shoulder and waist.

Which certainly couldn’t be true.

He’d won much of his money as a prize for his work in the navy, capturing enemy ships and their treasures, after all.

She was consumed by the sudden urge to claim him in public, to make a stand of her feelings, to kiss him. She only barely managed to resist it.

[janeuary-month]

The post-event survey is still open, and I'd appreciate more feedback from you all.

It’s anonymous and should take just 1 minute to do. There are only 5 optional questions:

Which prompts did you like the best?

Do you have ideas for new prompts that you’d like to see next year?

Did you participate as a creator?

If you didn’t participate this year but wanted to, what would help you to join in next year?

Any other feedback about the event?

You don’t need to have created any works to fill it out. If you follow this blog, I want to hear from you. Thanks for helping me shape the 2027 event!

👉 Share your feedback here!

[janeuary-month]

The post-event survey is still open, and I'd appreciate more feedback from you all.

It’s anonymous and should take just 1 minute to do. There are only 5 optional questions:

Which prompts did you like the best?

Do you have ideas for new prompts that you’d like to see next year?

Did you participate as a creator?

If you didn’t participate this year but wanted to, what would help you to join in next year?

Any other feedback about the event?

You don’t need to have created any works to fill it out. If you follow this blog, I want to hear from you. Thanks for helping me shape the 2027 event!

👉 Share your feedback here!

[janeuary-month]

The post-event survey is still open, and I'd appreciate more feedback from you all.

It’s anonymous and should take just 1 minute to do. There are only 5 optional questions:

Which prompts did you like the best?

Do you have ideas for new prompts that you’d like to see next year?

Did you participate as a creator?

If you didn’t participate this year but wanted to, what would help you to join in next year?

Any other feedback about the event?

You don’t need to have created any works to fill it out. If you follow this blog, I want to hear from you. Thanks for helping me shape the 2027 event!

👉 Share your feedback here!