A/N: Hi all! This is my first P&P fanfiction. The idea for this had been swimming around in my head for so long that I just had to sit down and write it.

Here's some basic info to know before you start:

1. Elizabeth and Darcy are the only characters whose genders have been reversed and everyone else is the same. The point of this work is to show the difference that one minor change can make to the story at large. By changing the gender of these two characters the plot changes as well as situations, yet the characters are much as they ever were in personality and spirit.

2. Some ages have been changed. Jane is now 25 while Edward (Elizabeth) is 23. Frances "Anne" Darcy (Fitzwilliam Darcy) is 21 and has been in possession of her inheritance since the age of 18. All other ages have remained the same.

3. I plan on writing long chapters. At this point, I'm looking at this to extend to about 20-25 depending on where it all takes me and the response I get from readers. That being said, I may write more or less.

4. At first I had planned on making this an exact retelling of P&P, but I began to ask myself: Where's the fun in that? While the plot will be incredibly similar to the one of Austen's novel, we will have moments where we diverge from canon. Why? Well because that's what makes this study so interesting! Whether you believe it or not, by changing Elizabeth and Darcy's genders, A LOT changes in the main storyline and I'm so excited to explore that. Don't be surprised if there is a little more romance as well. I'm a sucker for romance.

5. I am no Austen and I am not trying to be like her. While I will try to emulate the language and tone of the era, my writing style is my own.

I hope you enjoy!

(Disclaimer: I do not own Pride and Prejudice or its characters.)

austenauthoress

Chapter 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman in possession of a large dowry must be in want of a husband.

It does not matter how old said girl is, because every girl imagines herself being swept off her feet by a valiant prince charming. No one ever suspects that the man on the white steed, could actually be the villain himself. No one ever wants to anyways.

Frances Darcy was no stranger to this lesson, but unfortunately her sister had been. Now they were both paying the price.

The carriage creaked as it continued down the lane, the passengers trying desperately to think of what to say. What could one say? What does one say to a young girl who feels as though her world is falling apart?

"Dearest Georgie," The elder sister finally spoke, her voice cracking slightly with the emotion she was feeling. "We will recover from this."

Darcy could not see the girl's face. Georgiana was staring aimlessly out of the carriage into the darkness beyond. One could hear the faint sound of the waves crashing along the shore - but other than that, it was silent.

"I do not blame you for any of this," Darcy tried desperately to convey the truth behind her statement, reaching a hand out to cover the one that lay on her sister's lap. "This is not your fault. If anything, it is mine. I should not have sent you to Ramsgate in the first place with a woman who I did not investigate properly. None of this would have ever happened had I been a better sister to you. It is I who have failed you."

This statement captured Georgiana's attention. Her free hand, which had been nervously playing with the cross that hung from her neck, came up to cover that of her sister's.

"Oh no, please do not ever think –" The girl choked on her emotions, her stoic face suddenly crumbling. She had not had a chance to cry yet, but the tears began to gather. "I cannot have you taking responsibility for this. You trusted me and I have failed you, greatly. I am fully ashamed of myself and my behavior. I trust others much too easily and it has been my downfall."

Frances did not know what to do as her sister broke down opposite her. Emotions had never been her forte. It was easier four years before when her sister had been a small girl of one and ten who could still be cradled in one's arms and comforted after the death of her father, but this was different. Grief was something she had been familiar with after losing both her mother and father, but she had no concept of heartache.

Switching seats, Darcy wrapped her arms tightly around her sister. Georgiana's sobs, for they were no longer just tears, tore through her heart.

"This will not do," She murmured, pulling back slightly to look at the girl's face. Untying the bonnet that was knotted a bit too tightly beneath her sister's chin for travel, she smoothed the blonde curls that fell from beneath, so unlike the dark brown of her own. "I cannot have you feeling guilty over something that is simply your nature. Were you not so trusting, you would not be my Georgiana. I would not change a thing about you. It is others I would change – to make them better so that they could deserve the trust you give them so unreservedly."

Georgiana buried herself in the haven of her sister's arms, her tears still falling steadily down her cheeks. Her color was pale and Darcy was seriously beginning to fear for her health. It was obvious that her anxiety over the near-elopement had taken a toll on her appetite as she felt much thinner than her sister remembered. Not for the first time that night, Darcy sent up a silent prayer of gratitude.

"If you had not arrived today, I don't know what I would have done," The heartbroken girl's voice was so quiet that Darcy had to strain to hear it. "I would have been half way to Gretna Green by now, I suppose."

"No," Frances spoke with conviction. "You would not have gone through with it. Your character and your faith would not have allowed you to."

While she truly believed her statement, there was still doubt weighing heavily upon her. Darcy knew that most girls tended to lead with their hearts rather than their heads. There had been plenty of girls tricked into elopements by men who were up to no good. Not just poorly, country girls either – but high society ladies of great fortune. Should she have gone through with it, Georgiana would not have been the first.

'But she did not,' Darcy reminded herself once again as she held her sister tighter.

She knew Georgiana was young enough yet to weather the effects of the heartbreak she had suffered, but Frances Darcy seriously wondered if she ever could.

"Edward Bennet, you delight in vexing me! I will not have you catching a cold in this autumn chill!"

The young man in question had to chuckle at his mother's nervous prattle. Mrs. Bennet was the only woman in all of Hertfordshire that considered the tepid air of the harvest months as dangerous to one's constitution.

"Mama, you act as though I will drop dead the moment any ailment comes upon me," The young Mr. Bennet replied good naturedly, used to the exclamations that were usually raised after the completion of his morning walk. "I can fully assure you, madam, that I am of a sturdier stock than that. I happen to have four beautiful sisters that are all in excellent health and a lovely mama who I believe will continue to censure me well into her elder years."

With a roll of her eyes, Mrs. Bennet ignored her son's comments and turned from the room in a whirl. "Hill! Hill!" The mistress of Longbourn called for the loyal housekeeper. In a move almost identical to the woman who had just exited the room, Edward had to roll his eyes as well. Just as he was doing this, a frazzled Mrs. Hill appeared to take his hat.

"My boy," He heard a voice call out from the library at the end of the hall. "Pray, come and tell me what offense you have committed against your dear mama."

Smiling wryly, Edward handed over his hat before stepping further into the house. Upon entering his father's study, he was met with a familiar sight. There was Mr. Bennet, sitting in his desk chair with a book laid out in front of him.

"I hope that's the book on crop rotation I picked up for you the last time I visited the Gardiners," The young man half-joked, causing the older one to chortle. It was no secret that Thomas Bennet was not necessarily the most devoted of landowners, much to the boy's chagrin. But despite even that, he could not help but look fondly on the man who had raised him and passed along his love for laughter and folly.

"It is not. I was in the mood for Wordsworth today and have decided I shall begin reading tomorrow about the crops. It is not as if they are going anywhere," Mr. Bennet gestured towards the chair in front of his desk. "Sit and tell me what you did to cause your mama such a fuss."

Edward took a seat in the familiar chair, casting an amused glance in his father's direction. "I have done nothing more than take a walk before breaking my fast. Just as I do every morning."

"Shocking that you seem to receive the same reaction every morning, as well," Mr. Bennet's dark eyes sparkled with a wit he seemed to share with his son.

"Indeed," The young man agreed, leaning back in his chair. "But I guess when you are the heir, without anyone to spare, you must take into account an autumn chill. For you know how many young men have died from partaking in morning exercise," Sarcasm was evident in his tone, yet the reality of the situation was a dark one to broach.

While to some Mrs. Bennet's fears seemed to be bordering on the ridiculous, there was some veracity behind them. Edward, who was the sole heir birthed to the Bennets, was the only one who could inherit the estate in the event of his father's death. If he were not alive and well, the land would go to some distant cousin who would surely cast out his mother and any unmarried sisters of his into the hedgerows. Hence, Mrs. Bennet's worry over his health and well being.

It was not as if Longbourn was a very consequential piece of land either, but Edward was happy to be inheriting it anyways. While the tenant farmers did all that they could to bring in a large profit, the truth was that there wasn't very many of them to begin with. That, paired with Mr. Bennet's only mediocre management, hampered the land from increasing in worth. But it wasn't the worth that Edward cared about in the first place.

This land was his home. Hertfordshire was all he had known beyond his years in school and at Oxford. He was a gentleman, and by principle, he was supposed to cultivate the land to its full potential. If he was to take care of four sisters, who his mama had already claimed would all become spinsters due to his father's lack of verve in society, as well as his mother, then he would have to be bringing in a decent profit in order to provide for them in the best way possible. Especially, if his father expired early and Edward was forced to pull together several dowries for his sisters all at once.

"Son, I shall not drop dead at any moment either," Mr. Bennet voiced, breaking Edward from his own conjecture. There was amusement evident in his father's tone, proof that he had known which way his son's thoughts had been tending. "I will read about crop rotation, I promise you. I shall begin the moment I find the peace to start it."

"Mr. Bennet! Mr. Bennet!"

"It does not seem like I will be starting today," The master of the house commented dryly as his wife invaded the library with a trail of giggling girls behind her. Edward made eye contact with his serene, elder sister Jane, who gave him a small smile and a tilt of her head as their mother tittered on.

"You will never believe what Mrs. Long has just heard from the butcher!"

"For some reason, I am not inclined to believe it has anything to do with meat."

"Oh, Mr. Bennet," Mrs. Bennet sighed, her voice rising an octave in exasperation. "You have no compassion for my poor nerves!"

"My dear, you mistake me," Mr. Bennet smiled, patting his wife's hand which lay on his shoulder. "I have every respect for your nerves. They have been my old friends these five and twenty years."

"Mr. Bennet, I still have not yet told you what Mrs. Long heard."

"Oh, I nearly forgot! From the butcher if I am not mistaken. Well, please proceed, Mrs. Bennet. We are all waiting with baited breath."

The matron huffed but did not allow his sarcasm to deter her. "Netherfield Park is let at last!"

"Now what does that have to do with any of us? I have no interest in the property, in fact, I have always been more partial towards Purvis Lodge, myself," Mr. Bennet crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the default answer his wife was sure to give.

"You and your son seem to like to try my nerves, but they are in no state this morning to be toyed with," The two men in question did not bother arguing that her nerves were always in the state they were in presently. "You must know that the man who has let the place is one who is single and of £5,000 a year."

"I still do not understand of what consequence this is to us."

"Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet's voice rose an octave, causing both father and son to cringe at such a shrill sound. "He must marry one of our girls, of course!"

"Now, why would he feel obligated to do such a thing?" Mr. Bennet stood from his chair to walk over to the group of ladies still standing in his doorway. "It's not as if you will be thrown out into the hedgerows. Edward will inherit once I die and you will be allowed to live here for as long as you please."

"But, Papa," Lydia, who was the youngest of the bunch, said indignantly, pulling a face that was much like her mother's. "We do not wish to become spinsters like Charlotte Lucas."

"Miss Lucas is not a spinster, Lydia," Edward stood from his chair and turned towards his sister, his displeasure evident in his expression and tone. "You should not say such things in the company of others."

"La! If you say it is not so, then where are her suitors? Better yet, why do you not do your duty and offer for her yourself?

"Because I do not love her, Lydia," Edward stated defensively, his younger sister striking a nerve. "I would not do her the injustice."

"The thought of Charlotte Lucas ever becoming the mistress of Longbourn has my nerves all a flutter. Do not even tease about such a thing," Mrs. Bennet fanned herself, temporarily distracted from her original topic of choice. "She and her mother would have me tossed from this house the moment your father was deceased."

"But you and Lady Lucas are great friends, Mama," Kitty, the second to youngest sister, spoke up. "I'm sure she would never do such a thing. Besides, Edward would not let her."

"Since I am not inclined to marry Miss Lucas, maybe we should leave such worries for more appropriate matters," The young Mr. Bennet effectively silenced the girls on the subject, quite tired of such foolish conjecture.

"What we do need to worry about is Mr. Bingley," Mrs. Bennet sighed his name with great admiration and looked at her husband, eyebrows raised in expectation. "He is to arrive any time now and you must be among the first to call upon him."

"Why we should do such a thing, I do not know. It is not as if Edward or I desire to marry him and I am in no great want of friends."

"But you must call on him or the Lucases will get to him first."

"You and your daughters seem to be in consensuses that the Lucas girls are plain and of little consequence," There was a twinkle in Mr. Bennet's eye as he said the last part. "What threat do they pose for my girls?"

"Oh Mr. Bennet!"

"Papa!"

"Girls, please allow me to continue with my work," The man sat back at his desk and pulled out a book from the side drawer on his left. "I have very important crop rotation techniques to learn about and I must be left to read in peace.

Edward ushered out his frowning mama, along with his four sisters. All the way out, his mother wailed in despair.

"To have such a father, girls! He does not care of what happens to you or I in the future!"

As Edward turned back towards the study, he noted that his father had already traded the crop rotation manual for the words of Wordsworth once again.

Sighing heavily, he allowed the door to close behind him on his way out.

Three miles away, the man who had caused such a stir at Longbourn, dismounted his horse and gazed up at his newly acquired property.

"It's beautiful, is it not?" He asked excitedly, with a grin on his face as his sister and friend descended from their carriage with the help of a footman.

Netherfield Park was an impressive property for a man who had been born into trade. Charles Bingley at five and twenty had taken the first steps towards becoming a part of the landed gentry. With such friendly manners and a bright countenance to go with it, one could almost forget he didn't quite belong in the society he roamed in – but alas, it could not be forgotten for long.

"Charles," His sister drawled, pulling her traveling cloak tighter as if protecting herself from the country air. "It is a sight indeed, but nothing compared to Pemberley. Would you not agree, dear Anne?"

Still in a mood from being dragged into Hertfordshire, Frances Darcy frowned up at the manor. While it was certainly nothing compared to Pemberley, it was pretty enough. However, she could not say the same for the country surrounding it.

"I believe I am too biased of a party to speak on the matter," The lady admitted, not bothering to mask the disapproval in her tone. "However, the people of Hertfordshire must be savages of the worst kind to come from such land and yet have so little to show for it. Did you see all those poor tenant farms?"

"Yes, I did, Darcy," Bingley's tone did not lose any of it's cheer, even in the face of his friend's evident distaste. "But that is why you are here. I have never met a man or woman who can run the land like you do. Pemberley is a credit to such a statement."

The girl's cheeks blazed pink at the compliment, though not in the manner of your typical English rose. While Frances Darcy was all things a lady ought to be, with a list of accomplishments to fully back such a claim, she did not allow herself to give over to such simpering female behaviors. As the heiress of an extensive piece of land, bestowed upon her at the tender age of eight and ten, she saw herself above the usual base behaviors of her sex. No, her cheeks turned pink from such unwanted attention from both Caroline Bingley and the Hursts who had joined them in time to hear Bingley's assertion.

"You are too kind in your praise, Bingley," Darcy spoke, using the common practice men typically took part in by addressing him by his last name. In an informal party such as their's, this wasn't so unusual. In fact, it gave Caroline some odd sort of pleasure for she believed it spoke of an intimacy that did not truly exist between the two. "I will do whatever I can to aid you in your endeavor. My steward can also be reached easily should either of us fail to come up with a solution."

"Excellent!" The young master bounded up the steps, greeting the assembled staff who stood at the top to greet them. The Hursts followed Bingley's action while Caroline and Frances trailed behind.

"I am so happy you agreed to come with us, Anne," Caroline forced her arm through her more stoic companion's, linking their elbows as if they were great friends. "Charles has been in raptures recently over your presence."

Darcy knew that Caroline was hoping for a future connection between she and her brother, but unfortunately for her, it was something that neither she nor Bingley desired. No matter how many times they seemed to remind her of this though, she continued her pursuit. At this point, there was no point in even commenting on it.

"I did not wish to leave Georgiana behind, but Bingley's plea was made in such a way that it could not be helped," Darcy commented dryly, remembering the insistent begging she'd had to suffer before reluctantly agreeing. Georgiana had claimed she was not yet ready to be amongst any party besides her own family and had thrown herself into her studies after her near elopement. Not knowing what to do or say, Darcy had let her.

"Dear Georgie!" Caroline cried out, claiming yet another intimacy that was not her own by addressing Frances' sister in such a way. "I must say I miss her presence. Such a long list of accomplishments she has at only fifteen and to not even be out yet! It is a credit to your influence."

Darcy did not say a word, her mind drifting to three months before when she had been forced to question whether her guidance had been adequate enough in relation to her sister. Shaking her head, she resolved that she would no longer dwell on situations already passed.

"Indeed."