Windswept: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

Chapter 4

“Miss Elizabeth, although my saddle is not made for a lady’s comfort, you are welcome to ride. I will walk alongside,” Mr. Darcy offered.

The colonel also made his mount available.

“While I thank you both, I do not care for riding, preferring my own two feet to their four.”

True to their promise, the men led their horses as they escorted her to Longbourn, allowing her to set a brisk pace. On the way, she pointed out areas of note, speaking quickly after discovering that Colonel Fitzwilliam had an interest in his surroundings.

To him, Elizabeth said, “You may be surprised to learn that Egypt is not the only land with pyramids, sir. In the clearing behind those trees, the younger brothers of my good friend Miss Charlotte Lucas and I attempted the amazing feat of building our own wonders of the not-so-ancient world.”

Before Colonel Fitzwilliam could close his gaping mouth, Mr. Darcy asked, “Was there a particular reason why you took on this monumental project?”

She was surprised at his interest. Was he hoping to prove to his cousin how provincial she was? Was he finding fault…again?

Elizabeth shrugged. “My father has a large collection of maps in his study that intrigued me greatly. Once I realized that any dreams that I held of traveling to the Mediterranean would never come to fruition, I joined with the neighbor boys to build our own Hanging Gardens of Babylon and Great Pyramid. In all honesty, we were doomed from the start since none of us were skilled builders or engineers. The other issue that was too much to overcome was that John Lucas and I were a mere nine years old. Bertie Lucas was only seven. We were all too short to have anything more than a small pile of stones and bricks we scavenged from Papa’s old icehouse.” She sighed, then grinned. “We did try, though.”

Both men laughed along with her.

Mr. Darcy knows how to laugh? She never would have guessed he would know the meaning of humor.

With more boldness, Elizabeth showed them where they pretended to pull legendary Excalibur, the sword from a stone when a light rain began to fall, and the wind whipped into a gale.

“Gentlemen, you must have concluded by now that I was a hoyden when I was young. Rather than tell an untruth that I have fully metamorphosed into a fine lady, I will confess that I am likely to run through the fields without my bonnet on sunny days and when it rains.” Without even a by your leave, she took off like a shot. From over her shoulder, she said, “After one more corner, I will be at Longbourn. I suggest you ride to Netherfield Park so you do not suffer another downpour.”

She did not look back until Mr. Hill, Longbourn’s butler, opened the front door. Instead of doing as she suggested, they had mounted their horses and continued to follow her. Dipping her knee, she acknowledged their kindness. It must have been Colonel Fitzwilliam’s idea.

So,this was Longbourn, the Bennet estate.

“What an incredible lady! Miss Elizabeth is intelligent, kind, and quite pretty. What is her situation?” Richard asked on the wind as they turned toward the main road.

His question startled Darcy. “Why are you inquiring about her?” Even though the rain increased, and they should hurry to Netherfield Park, he was desperate to know.

“I am a second son with unpleasant memories that have forever seared my soul. I was not considered a handsome man before. Now, I see when a woman spies my scar. Since my return, the number of unattached ladies in England who have treated me with as much respect as Miss Bennet can be counted on one hand. Although I am not currently looking for a bride, she is an attractive woman with a heart tender enough to look after an elderly woman completely unrelated to her for the simple reason that she holds her in respect and affection. Mrs. Hammond and Miss Elizabeth’s welcome was genuine in warmth and friendliness. Miss Elizabeth may be merely curious about me, and I can accept this openly. Nevertheless, should she feel an attraction, I might remind my mother of her promise to give me a small estate attached to Matlock when I wed. That is unless you already have a prior claim.”

What! “I do not.” Darcy could feel his pulse in his neck, grateful his damp cravat covered it. What had he done to leave his cousin with the impression that he was attracted to Miss Elizabeth? Had he stared at her too long? Had he been too easygoing around her? He would need to keep on guard.

“Marriage? You are here to find a wife?” Darcy wiped the rain from his face to no avail. The thought of his cousin wed to the lady stirred his ire, disappointment, and a keen sense of competition to best his closest friend.

Richard reined in his horse. “You know my purpose. I need an occupation, something that I can enjoy enough to keep me settled in one place for more than a few months. Army life forces a man into a routine where permanence is foreign. This change would be more pleasant and easier with someone alongside me. I am not opposed to marriage, especially to someone intelligent and kind.”

Darcy felt his cousin’s eyes examining every reaction. He dared not flinch or flex. Changing the subject to protect displaying his feelings before he was ready, he asked, “You are determined to sell your commission then?” Darcy heard the hope in his voice. Richard was closer than a brother to him. Each time he departed British soil to battle the French, Darcy lived in fear that something dreadful would befall him.

“I am. I have given my last orders until I need to set up my house. For now, I am not in a hurry. Unlike you, I am not pursuing a lady to be my wife.” At that, he kicked his horse into a gallop.

Darcy hesitated more than a moment before he followed. Pursuing a lady? Him? He had no claim on Elizabeth Bennet, nor did he necessarily want to claim her. The expectations of his family and peers were that he would make a great match with a woman of excellent connections and fortune. For his sister’s sake, he would not seek a mate below these expectations.

Besides, Elizabeth Bennet’s open personality begged him to drop his reserve, something he could not do. Should anyone, including her, discover what his father’s journal contained, his peaceful reign over Pemberley would be imperiled.

During the months since Ramsgate, Darcy repeatedly contemplated the possible consequences of revealing the secret to Richard. Wickham, knowing he was Georgiana’s half-brother, protected her from any further attempts to take advantage of her, which was his reason for allowing George to read that portion of the journal. In the end, he decided that his father’s command was rational. He would tell no one, especially a new acquaintance with fine eyes.

A fire burned in his chest, radiating up his throat, almost choking him. Why did he feel miserable at the thought of turning his back on this particular female?

For a certainty, he was a man of determination and discipline. Surely, with minimal effort, he could evict Elizabeth Bennet from his thoughts. But could he evict her from the far corner of his heart? Certainly. He was a Darcy.

Elizabeth chose notto say anything about Colonel Fitzwilliam being in residence at Netherfield Park. Although she knew her mother would appreciate the opportunity to throw any of her five daughters at the feet of a wealthy man, the fact that he was the son of Lord Matlock, even the second son, put him too high above them. Francine Bennet’s efforts would be futile since the Bennets had little incentive to offer a prospective groom. Their dowries were pitifully small. Their estate was entailed to a distant male heir. None except Jane could boast of true beauty.

Sitting in the window seat of her chambers, her fingers trailed the raindrops down the glass.

Had Mr. Bingley welcomed Colonel Fitzwilliam without reserve? Surely, he would. Any friend of Mr. Darcy’s would always find doors opened and hospitality offered, especially the son of an earl. What about horrible Mr. Darcy? That he treated Colonel Fitzwilliam as a true friend could not be denied. He was at ease in his company, which spoke well of the man.

She grumbled. It would not do to think better of Mr. Darcy since she vowed to hate him forever. There! She would think no more of either man since the likelihood of them remaining much longer in Hertfordshire was slim.

Well, that was easier said than done.

Colonel Fitzwilliam’s brilliant smile appeared to be engraved on her mind. He had a kind face. He was an exceedingly pleasant man despite his choice of companions. She scoffed. She knew more than most that no one could choose their relatives. Colonel Fitzwilliam had to like Mr. Darcy. They were cousins.

This raised many questions in Elizabeth’s mind. Were the colonel’s parents the sort who shunned any child other than their firstborn son? Many families of Elizabeth’s acquaintance treated their heir as if he was a personal gift from God and the sole blessing for a family. Often, it created in the child a prideful arrogance like…well, like Mr. Darcy, who, from the fact that he was the heir to Pemberley and only spoke of having a sister, must have been the only son.

Although Elizabeth could not know if Colonel Fitzwilliam had been an overlooked child, she knew without question that her mother favored Jane for her beauty and Lydia for her liveliness. Despite Sir William Lucas, their jovial neighbor, calling Elizabeth one of the jewels of the county, her reality was that there was nothing she could do to wedge a larger slice of her mother’s heart. Neither could Mary or Kitty.

It was one of the reasons she favored Mrs. Hammond’s company. Mrs. Hammond never withheld praise or refrained from correcting Elizabeth when needed. Like with Mr. Wickham. And Mr. Darcy.

She traced another drop down the glass. Was Mrs. Hammond correct about the true character of the men? Where Elizabeth admired one and loathed the other, the elderly widow felt exactly the opposite, although she tempered her feelings instead of using words like hate or loathe.

For as long as Elizabeth knew her, Mrs. Olivia Hammond was exemplary, someone she wanted to imitate. As the third daughter of a baronet, Mrs. Hammond believed that ladylike accomplishments such as painting and needlework paled against cultivating qualities like empathy, kindness, loyalty, and generosity. Her motto was to live life with no regrets. Elizabeth yearned to reach a ripe old age having done the same.

In the meantime, she decided that she could tolerate Mr. Darcy in hopes of making a true friend of Colonel Fitzwilliam if there were an opportunity to associate together. He acted like he would welcome lively companionship. She longed to know him better.