Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
A REVEALING REVELATION
The next morning dawned cloudy with a threat of rain in the air.
Richard rose early, as was his custom from his years in the military, and dressed for the outdoors, there to take some exercise before the weather turned and forced him inside.
With his aunt. He grimaced at the thought.
He claimed his favourite horse and rode through the fields as he had before, breathing deeply of the fresh spring air, untarnished by the smoke and stench of London.
He rode along the paths and laneways of the neighbourhood, and through the fields that were not given over to planting this year. Down along the stream he galloped, and across the empty lea and through the open areas where the sheep were grazing, leaping over stiles and hedgerows as he rode.
He found himself approaching the village, and he slowed down to trot along the road that would lead him home.
As he circled back to ride along the path through the woods, his route took him past the parsonage.
There, as the previous day, he saw early signs of life.
The maid was in the yard past the kitchen shaking out linens, and somebody else was hanging laundry on the line behind the servants’ quarters.
Smoke rose from the chimneys, and now, as he approached closer, he could smell the caramel-sweet aroma of bread and pastries being baked in the kitchens’ ovens.
Mrs Collins, it seemed, had her house under excellent regulation.
He would have turned back towards the den where his aunt ruled had he not seen a figure emerge from the woods. He smiled and leapt off his horse.
“Miss Bennet!” The sight of her gladdened his heart.
He waited until she heard him and looked up. Her smile matched his.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam! How do you do this morning? Are you out early as well to get the air before the rain?”
“Indeed, I am, madam. I have just completed my ride.”
“And I, my walk. I am not a great rider, but I do enjoy a good stroll through beautiful countryside. Charlotte is busy with the housekeeper, and Maria was still in her rooms, but I am not afraid to walk by myself.” She smiled wider still. “I must have my air and exercise!”
“Do you walk often at your home?”
“Every day that I can,” she replied. There ensued a pleasant conversation about the relative beauty of Hertfordshire and Kent, both ultimately agreeing that both places had their incomparable, but very different, advantages.
“Will you come inside?” Miss Bennet asked at last. “Charlotte would be pleased to see you, and you can join us for breakfast. There is always plenty.”
He shook his head with a regretful smile. “Not today, I thank you. I smell rather strongly of horse and would not be pleasant company.”
She let out a sweet laugh. “I cannot imagine any circumstance when you would not be pleasant company, sir. Perhaps another day.”
This was an agreeable invitation. He had held out little hope for such joy at Rosings, and Miss Bennet was delightful. “If Mrs Collins does not object, I shall call upon the family, should the weather hold. I will come at a more sociable hour. I look forward to it.”
Her smile was all the incentive he required.
He returned to his horse and rode back to Rosings with a smile on his face that not even Aunt Catherine could erase.
Over the next week, Richard found himself visiting the parsonage almost every day.
He would rise early and take his exercise, returning to the manor house to wash and change before walking the short distance along the path.
As long as the skies were clear enough for the purpose, he could think of no better way to spend the morning.
Darcy had always taken his obligations to their aunt more seriously than Richard himself did, and after his morning outings, would disappear into Lighton’s office to pore over the ledgers.
He beckoned to Richard to join him, but to no avail.
“The accounts are fine,” Richard would cajole each day.
“The man is diligent and honest. Have you ever found so much as a spelling mistake?”
Anne kept to her rooms until well into the afternoon, leaving Aunt Catherine as the only other member of the household to whom to speak.
He was, therefore, pleased to find any excuse to absent himself from Rosing’s oppressive walls.
It did not hurt that Miss Bennet was at the parsonage, for she was incentive enough to make the short walk across the fields.
She had no particular talents to crow about and an indifferent education, but she was delightful.
The very air seemed to brighten when she entered a room, and Richard would have endured a great deal to spend some time enjoying her sparkling conversation.
Had she been one of his mother’s sacrificial offerings rather than Miss Eastway, he might—almost—have been tempted to rethink his conviction of never marrying.
His inclinations towards Miss Bennet were not wildly passionate or romantic, but the thought of a life with her was a pleasant one, not to be discarded without serious sober thought.
Nevertheless, he was firm in his resolution, and Miss Bennet, charming as she might be, was not in possession of the great fortune he would need to leave his military life.
Indeed, she had let it fall that she had almost no dowry at all, a mere thousand pounds that would not allow for a decent style of life for even a single year.
He could, therefore, enjoy her delightful company with none of the weight of expectations that so often accompanied such friendships.
Richard had initially wondered if Miss Bennet was the young woman who had so captivated his cousin Darcy during his weeks in Hertfordshire.
She certainly had the looks and spirit to capture his attention; indeed, she would offer his dour cousin a suitable challenge.
But it could not be! Darcy had commented that the lady who possessed his heart had enjoyed their debates.
It was evident to him that Miss Bennet, on the other hand, could scarcely tolerate Darcy’s company.
He recalled the tense jaw and narrowed eyes that flickered across her face upon their first meeting.
He reflected on her change in manner each time Darcy’s name was mentioned.
It was a pity, really. If the lady could change her mind to approve of Darcy’s company, the two might rub on very well together.
They shared their understanding and wit, although Darcy, he knew, kept his well-hidden from those not of his intimate circles.
Darcy would not need his wife’s fortune to live in comfort; he could easily take a wife without a penny.
Perhaps, over the course of their friendship here in Kent, he would drop some words here and there to try to sway the lady’s opinion towards his cousin.
That thought pleased him, somehow. He might not yearn for her as a wife, but he would be very pleased to have her as a cousin.
It was not until a week after their first meeting that the Collinses and their company were invited again to dine at Rosings.
The day was Easter, and from what Richard could tell, no other more suitable families in the neighbourhood were free to partake of Aunt Catherine’s ponderous table.
The Collinses were far below his aunt’s touch, but she felt it incumbent upon her position as the first lady of the neighbourhood to entertain the parson.
He was also one of the few of her acquaintance who would dance such attendance upon her and accept each of her ridiculous suggestions as if they were the most precious pearls of wisdom ever to drop from human lips.
Thus it was that, at the appropriate hour, the door chimes sounded, and the guests entered the grand drawing room.
“You have arrived. Welcome.” Aunt Catherine was civil, but it was clear that she would have preferred other guests.
Still, company reflected well on her sense of noblesse oblige.
An empty dining room spoke of a certain lack of neighbourliness, and for Aunt Catherine, appearances were vital.
“Do come in. Mr Collins, you may sit here, and Mrs Collins, the red chair by the small table will do. For Miss Lucas, the wooden chair, and Miss Bennet may have the honour of sitting by Anne.” She directed her guests like a conductor before an orchestra, and only when everyone was seated according to her directions did she sit back with a satisfied smirk on her face.
This pleased Richard. He was standing by the window as the guests entered and now had the opportunity to sit according to his desires.
There was an empty chair by Anne’s sofa, where Miss Bennet now sat, and he moved to it.
From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Darcy move towards that same chair before discarding the notion.
Darcy had shown no inclination towards friendship with Mrs Collins’ guests.
Indeed, he had hardly expressed the first bit of interest in them during their conversations during the week.
Richard could not imagine why the man should become solicitous of Miss Bennet’s attention now.
Anticipating an entertaining discussion, he sat himself down close to Miss Bennet and greeted her in his friendliest manner, then sat back to let the entertainment unfold.