Chapter Four #5
Miss Baxter watched them disappear into the stable and then moved closer to Elizabeth, Branson and Hephaestus. “Would you like to mount him?” she asked.
This was the part Elizabeth dreaded. She loved horses.
Loved to pet them, feed them, watch them graze or gallop (with others on their backs).
These things she did often at Barlow Hall and even occasionally at home—though at Longbourn, there were fewer horses.
However, she had not sat atop a horse since her disastrous lessons all those years ago.
“I suppose that is a necessary first step,” she said much more timidly than was her wont.
“We have all summer, Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Baxter said kindly. “We need not ride today. We can simply get used to Hephaestus, or if you would like, I can mount him and talk you through some of the fundamentals.”
“But you are not dressed to ride,” Elizabeth answered.
“Oh, that matters not for our purposes. I would only be trotting sedately around the pen with you and Branson leading Hephaestus.”
Although appreciative of the offer, Elizabeth decided riding would not get easier if she put it off for longer.
They led her into the paddock. A stableboy appeared and held the horse’s reins as she made her way to a mounting block.
Branson stood beside her as the stableboy led Hephaestus to where they waited.
Elizabeth took the two steps of the block on shaky legs with a rapidly beating heart.
Without giving herself too much time to think, she mounted as Miss Baxter instructed.
“Very good, child,” Branson praised. He made several adjustments to the stirrups and reins before leading Elizabeth around the small paddock. After the first pass along the wooden fence lining the enclosure, he asked, “How do you feel, Miss?”
Elizabeth thought a moment before answering, a wide smile on her face. “I feel like I have been missing out!”
Branson laughed and continued to lead her in wide circles for several more minutes.
Looking about from her high perch, Elizabeth took in the sweeping views of Pemberley Wood and the house up the hill.
She could just see the edges of a lake in the opposite direction of the wood and wondered if it was part of the estate.
Beneath her, Elizabeth thought she could feel the horse restraining himself.
Like her, he seemed to want to move faster, go further.
Go anywhere. The paddock was not small, but even at their slow pace, it took barely a minute to circumvent it.
“Soon,” she whispered to her new four-legged friend. “We will explore this beautiful piece of country together. I can hardly wait!”
Miss Baxter looked on, occasionally calling on her to adjust her seat this way or that.
Despite its glacial pace, Elizabeth greatly enjoyed her tame trot and was proud that she had taken such a big step towards actual riding.
She soon learned that the fifteen minutes atop the mighty Hephaestus would not only be the highlight of her lesson but also its shortest component.
The remainder of the hour was spent out of the saddle.
She was not excited to be asked to mount and dismount over and over so that she could accomplish it without incident and with minimal assistance, but she did feel more confident in her abilities once Branson declared her passable at the tasks.
Once they led him into the stables, she did enjoy caring for Hephaestus and learning what he required to cool down after a ride.
“You are a natural,” Miss Darcy told her as, along with Miss Baxter and Mr. Darcy, they made their way back to the house.
Her friend had watched the last minute or so of her lesson.
Afterwards, she introduced Elizabeth to the other six horses who called Pemberley stables home.
They were all beautiful animals. They were friendly, too—especially as Elizabeth offered each a carrot—provided by Miss Darcy.
“I feel I am bribing them to like me,” Elizabeth told her friend, even as she gave Poseidon, her Mr. Darcy’s horse, an extra carrot to ensure his affection.
“We would have loved to keep you longer, but your aunt made me promise you would return in time for your music lesson,” Mr. Darcy told her. As if on cue, the Gardiner carriage pulled into the drive.
“Oh yes, of course,” Elizabeth said, having forgotten entirely anything beyond Pemberley. “Thank you so very much for the lesson. I am grateful for your generosity.” Turning to include Miss Darcy and Miss Baxter, she added, “I feel you have given, are giving, me a priceless gift.”
“You are welcome, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy responded. “We will send the carriage for you Thursday at ten o’clock. I have a feeling you will be galloping around Derbyshire in no time.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Goodbye for now, Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Darcy said, stepping in to hug her friend, but pausing as if unsure. Elizabeth moved closer and initiated the embrace.
“You are a great friend, Miss Darcy.”
“Georgiana,” Miss Darcy’s voice quivered just slightly. “I would be honoured if you would call me Georgiana.”
Before answering, Elizabeth looked to Mr. Darcy, who smiled and nodded.
“I would be delighted, Georgiana, and you must call me Elizabeth or Lizzy if you prefer.”
Georgiana accepted with delight, and they sent Elizabeth on her way. Although the scarcity of the other Mr. Darcy cast a slight shadow on the adventure, Elizabeth was quite pleased with nearly everything else.
The next month passed quickly for Elizabeth. Between her music and riding lessons, she had standing appointments for some length of time each day outside of Sunday. This added a structure to her schedule that had previously been absent.
That was not to say she abandoned her strolls through the wildflower field or her visits to Barlow’s stables to maintain her standing as a favourite among both the staff and animals.
Nor did the riding lessons mean her time with Georgiana was confined to that activity.
Mr. Darcy, it seemed, was eager to forward their friendship and allowed Georgiana to visit Barlow Hall regularly.
Elizabeth was also invited to Pemberley at least once a week beyond her lessons.
However, much to her chagrin, by the end of June, that brief interaction on her first visit with the young Mr. Darcy was the only time Elizabeth saw him.
Each time she entered the grounds of Pemberley, usually by carriage (though she was occasionally allowed to walk), Elizabeth experienced the breathless anticipation of the possibility of seeing him, and each time she was disappointed when her visit or lesson ended and he had not appeared.
One afternoon, as they took tea after a lesson, Elizabeth and Georgiana discovered they had more in common than they had realised.
The ladies settled into their usual seats in the small summer parlour, which offered sweeping views of the grounds.
“I am impressed with how far you have come as a rider, Lizzy. Miss Baxter believes you will be ready to try the wood trail soon.”
“This is true, you are doing remarkably well,” Miss Baxter agreed.
“I would love that,” Elizabeth responded.
Though she respected Miss Baxter and Branson, who together superintended her lessons, she chafed at the slow pace they set. Elizabeth was eager to roam the woods, gallop across the fields and explore the many places at Pemberley which were most readily accessible on horseback.
“Have you invited Miss Bennet to next week’s celebration?” Miss Baxter asked her charge as she helped herself to some of the sweets on the tea tray.
“What are we celebrating?” Elizabeth asked.
“My birthday,” Georgiana offered, her tone indicating a lack of interest in the topic.
“When is your birthday?”
“The fifth of July.”
“That is my birthday as well,” Elizabeth declared, smiling brightly.
“It is?” Georgiana asked with marked enthusiasm. “We must celebrate together!”
“No, that is not necessary,” Elizabeth demurred. “It seems your family has already made plans for you. If you wish me to come, I will happily attend.”
“But we cannot fete me alone on our mutual birthday,” Georgiana insisted. “It is nothing lavish—just a family dinner with all my favourites, but we must have yours as well. Let us make a list of every course and what your preferred dish is for each.”
The young girl jumped up and told the others she needed to retrieve her stationery in order to properly complete the task.
“Miss Baxter, you must explain to her that her family will want to honour her, not me. I am perfectly satisfied to be a guest.” It was true enough; Elizabeth was eager to celebrate her friend.
But it was also true that her birthday had always been a special time for her.
It was a day when, as one among five, she was the focus—even just for a brief moment.
Ever since she began to spend her summers, and thus her birthdays, at Barlow Hall, the day had become an anticipated occasion—the Gardiners and Mr. Barlow seemed to truly enjoy making her birthday special.
“I appreciate that, Miss Elizabeth. However, if you are not opposed, I do believe sharing the day with you would be good for Miss Darcy. I will speak to Mr. Darcy, mostly to alleviate any concerns you have, to ensure there are no objections.”
Elizabeth considered this. Georgiana was intensely shy, and although she had opened up to Elizabeth a great deal in their letters and in person over the last month, it was still very apparent that she preferred to blend in rather than stand out.
It was one of the many ways the girls were quite different.
Perhaps not being the only centre of attention would work well for Georgiana.
When Elizabeth did not immediately respond, Miss Baxter added, “I have no doubt your family and other guests you desire could be included. You must know you are a great favourite of Mr. Darcy.”