Amnesia (Retrograde) - is the inability to retrieve information that was acquired before a particular date. In some cases the memory loss can extend back decades.

AN – I know I seem to have abandoned Deceived, Yuletide Blessings and Something for shorter works lately. However those versions of Lizzy and Darcy aren't speaking to me right now. So I offer this short three chapter tale as compensation.

'Who, Sir, are you?' Mrs Bennet asked in a gentle but slightly irritated voice.

The most odious man of her acquaintance, that was not right for she had not met the man before, entered her parlour as if he belonged in it. Strange, since waking at first light this morning, Frances Bennet felt very different. Oh, the room she'd inhabited since her marriage to Michael Bennet appeared much the same, as had the corridors leading to this, her favourite space. Some of the chairs had been moved to form a much better grouping for conversation of a large party. In fact the entire house had a different feel, tireder, worn and in need of a freshening. Perhaps this man formed one of many now inhabiting her home. It would be just like Michael to foster such upon her without warning.

'I do not understand you, Madam,' the Wessely individual snivelled.

'I think the question quite obvious,' Mrs Bennet pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. 'You are unknown to me and yet you sit in my parlour. We have not been introduced and I am quite shocked at your lack of decency and manners.'

'Mr Dearest Mrs Bennet,' he snivelled, 'I arrived a seven night past. Your husband and I have been corresponding for some time.'

'Yet, I still do not know who you are,' she held her nose high understanding the better morality to be on her side. Rising from her chair with as much grace as she could, Frances called for a servant.

As she achieved this, Mrs Bennet caught sight of her reflection in the mirror above the fire place. The changes she feared were in her mind. Mrs Hill came to her and aided in dressing for the day. She'd presented Mrs Bennet with a new, and if she did say, completely inappropriate gown. The frippery and lace too much for daywear or the position of new wife, she'd frowned at the choice. After all, Frances Bennet had caught her husband. She needed to be demure now and await the birth of their first child.

'I am you cousin, Mr Collin's,' he looked confused.

'I see,' Frances Bennet knew exactly who this man might one day become. If she and Michael did not bear a son, the estate would be entailed on this excuse for a man.

'Ma'am,' Sara, the downstairs maid curtsied.

Glaring at the young girl, Mrs Bennet schooled her expression. It appeared Mr Bennet had hired another maid. Surly the estate could not afford such luxuries. However with a party of visitors, she may have been employed to cover the extra work.

'Please ask Mr Bennet to attend me,' she stated in a kind tone.

It did not signify to get the help off side so early in the day. There would be much to do before sundown. Loud tromping could be heard on the stairs. Two distinctly garish voices whined. For young ladies, Frances considered, they were not very well behaved. Who on earth were these people inhabiting her orderly home.

'Yes, Ma'am,' the girl curtseyed and left in a hurry.

'Mama,' a young girl of maybe five and ten, followed by another a year or two older burst into the parlour without consideration. 'Tell Kitty she is to give me her bonnet for it looks a fright on her and she is too plain to look well in it. I shall take it to pieces and make it up.'

Feeling like the situation had well and truly gotten out of hand Frances Bennet fell into her chair. Her legs suddenly took a fit of shakes and she recognised they would not support her much longer. The small argument went on around her as she comprehended the essential of the conversation. Mama, the younger child had called her Mama. How could she have two daughters of such an age? Yet it made sense. Her dress, Hill's advancing age, the lines upon her own face when she'd caught a glimpse in the mirror. How had this occurred without her knowledge?

'Enough,' she roared, glaring at the two children before her. 'Mr Collin's, I would not wish to detain you from your morning pursuits.'

For Collin's part, he looked ecstatic. 'I shall go and find my cousin Elizabeth,' he chortled.

'Elizabeth,' Frances began to finger her temple and the headache that persisted since waking this morning.

'My noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh,' Mr Collin's started on one of his long winded speeches. Lydia giggled and Kitty began to cough.

'Please Mr Collin's,' Mrs Bennet beseeched, 'my head is very ill. Child,' she turned to Kitty with empathy, 'have you not a draught for your infliction?'

'I do not cough for my amusement,' the older girl complained with an edge of anger.

'Of course you do not,' Frances soothed. 'It is very much like the cough my sister Amelia suffered as a girl. Ask,' here Mrs Bennet could not remember the name of their cook, at least the one they might have now, 'Cook to fill a bowl with steaming water and place a small amount of salts into it. Place a towel over your head and it will clear in no time. Off with you now, I should not wish you to become unwell. I shall not let you sister have your bonnet, child if that is what you are worried about. It is yours and I think you will look very well in it just the way it is. You,' she pointed to Lydia, 'will bring it to me. I do not wish to be bothered with such manners again, do you hear me. Now back to your room and think upon your behaviour before our guest.'

'But Mama,' Lydia wailed.

'Your manners are deplorable,' Frances let her ire build. 'Go, before I add further punishment.'

Stomping from the room, the child slammed the door. Her heavy footsteps resounded on the steps. Then Mrs Bennet remembered the odious man before her.

'Elizabeth,' she reminded.

'You have given me encouragement to court your second from eldest daughter as Miss Bennet is soon to be engaged to Mr Bingley,' Collin's stated. 'Lady Catherine has instilled upon me the importance of such a match…'

'Where,' Frances's headache increased, 'are my eldest daughter's now?'

'I believe they are taking a turn around the garden,' Collin's supplied with a wide, toothy grin.

Unable to hide her revulsion of the man, Mrs Bennet requested, 'please have them attend me immediately.' It did not take much for the man to waddle out the door. The look of anticipation upon his face stated he considered this marriage to her second daughter all but complete.

'Oh Lord,' Frances now held her head in her hands. By no means a stupid woman she'd understood the significance of her husband's heir at Longbourn.

AN – I have an idea for a very short and very explicit work. Would anyone read tasteful smut between ODC? It would not break FF rules but would be rated strong M. Secondly, any mistakes are my own as this had not been beta'd