Chapter Three
Encountering the Enemy
Two weeks later, mid morning
Elizabeth looked up at the sky and thanked the heavens for this respite from both the rains and from the endless noise at home.
Rumours of a new tenant at Netherfield Park had set Mama twittering about the house like a hen over her eggs, and subsequent rumours of the new tenant being a young and single man of fortune had only increased the volume.
“Think, Mr. Bennet!” her mother had exclaimed to Lizzy’s father, “what a good thing it will be for our girls, for he must marry one of them!” For certainly this young man had come to the neighbourhood for no other reason than to wed a Bennet girl.
Lizzy tried not to roll her eyes at the recollection.
The clear skies and warm weather had at last allowed Lizzy an escape from the house.
And none too soon, for this morning’s rumours, which arrived with the post and yesterday’s newspaper from Town, promised that this young man would attend the evening’s assembly with a large party from London, including more single gentlemen!
Far better to spend the morning thus—Lizzy gazed about her at the little clearing in which she now sat—than to be subjected to yet another demonstration of her mother’s nerves.
She stretched and lay back upon the low expanse of flat rock, atop of which she had thrown a heavy woollen blanket that now protected her from the damp moss.
Her preferred place of refuge would be too muddy to enjoy, with nowhere to sit, but this small clearing would do well.
It was just off one of the laneways and easy to achieve with a minimum of damage to her white petticoats but was hidden by a wall of gorse too thick to see through and tall enough to hide a standing man.
With the sun shining down from above, it was the perfect place to read, safe from discovery.
The sound of hooves and carriage wheels shook her from her reveries.
No matter: the carriage would soon pass, although it was rare for a carriage to pass down this lane, so narrow and far from the main road through Meryton.
She waited for the vehicle to drive by, and was annoyed when instead, the horses snorted, and the driver called out, and the entire conveyance came to a stop just a few feet down the lane.
She heard the door open and the sounds of a man moving—getting out of the carriage, perhaps?
“Here I must leave you,” the man said. He had a calm and cultured voice.
Whatever could he be doing down this unknown lane in the country?
“The driver will take you and your belongings the rest of the way. I dare say the other carriage with the servants and your trunks will be at the house soon enough. Are you well?”
Elizabeth heard the murmur of a voice from inside the carriage, just clearly enough to pick out the words. Another man, equally well spoken, with deep and rich tones, the exact nature of his voice somewhat indistinct from within the carriage.
“I shall be grateful for a rest, but yes. I am well.” There was a pause. His voice was muffled enough by the carriage that she was unsure whether she would know it again. “You cannot come to the house for refreshments before returning to London?”
“No,” the first man replied. “It is enough risk being here. I cannot have anybody see me, even your friend.”
What was this? Lizzy could not help but strain to hear every word.
First the Frenchman, then these strangers.
.. and what risk did this man take? Was he involved in her father’s wrongdoings?
Since she had first discovered the existence of the men hidden in the old tower at Longbourn, she had seen plots and treason everywhere, but had no one with whom to share her suspicions.
She could hardly raise the issue with her father—why, it was hard enough to face him at meals each day without letting her mien betray her thoughts—and she knew not who else in the village she might trust. The man in the tower room had disturbed her sleep no more, and one day he had vanished.
Could these two strangers be here to find and take him to some other place of refuge?
But no, they sounded like good Englishmen, and she must not assume these passers-by had anything to do with her father’s affair.
Perhaps this man was merely trying to avoid creditors or was unwilling to be trapped into a lengthy tea with some annoying old aunt who would pinch his cheeks and prattle on about her rheumatism and her knitting for hours.
His next words belied this supposition.
“Do you duty by your friend, but do not forget your mission: You are here to discover the spy and help us capture a traitor. Can I rely on you?”
“By all means!” The man in the carriage spoke clearly. “I do not know exactly how I shall proceed, but I shall do my best.”
“That is all we can ask. Be well, my friend, and I await your letters. I shall rest here until the carriage returns. No one shall find me in these bushes, and perhaps I might find a bird or two to study whilst I wait.”
There were a few more words of parting and the horses shuffled and snorted and the carriage rolled off.
Lizzy sat frozen in her place upon the flat rock. What if this man, whoever he was, should find her? Was he some sort of government operative, the other man his agent? Her heart seemed to stop beating. She prayed he did not seek his refuge behind the wall of gorse.
Perhaps they would be looking for the Frenchmen after all.
They would be looking for Papa! Terrified that they would succeed, and terrified that they would fail, she remained stunned in her place until she heard the man wander off into the woods on the other side of the laneway towards the stream.
Then, as quietly as she could, she folded up her blanket and edged her way through the thickets until she reached the open field beyond, before running home at full speed, with no regard at all for her petticoats.
***
That evening
ELIZABETH CAUGHT A glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors that decorated the walls at the assembly rooms. They had been installed only the previous month—at great cost and to great complaints from the landowners and great acclaim from their wives—and served to make the rooms feel larger and grander.
They also served to allow ladies young and old, and gentlemen as well, to attend any imperfections in their habille as the dancing continued through the night.
Elizabeth straightened a pleat in her skirt and ensured that the rosettes in her hair were still pinned neatly in place, but she could not amend the frown that had affixed itself to her forehead.
“Now Lizzy,” Charlotte Lucas slid into the frame beside her, “who do you imagine will ask you to dance if you cannot smile? You have been all cross and out of sorts for weeks now. Will you not tell me what is the matter? Or at least try to feign a smile and enjoy tonight’s amusement?”
Lizzy tugged at a wisp of hair that had escaped its pin and pursed her lips.
Her eyes met those of her friend in the glass before she turned around to face Charlotte directly.
“I am not upset at you, Charlotte!” she insisted.
“And I shall endeavour to enjoy tonight, but I must confess to being ill at ease.”
The musicians were working their way through a sprightly dance, and the sounds of a hundred voices and twice as many feet filled the air.
The assembly rooms looked larger, to be sure, but the mirrors did not in fact add to the space contained therein, nor did they serve to mitigate the noise.
Lizzy reached for her friend’s elbow. “Come, I cannot think in this din, and it is not too cool yet on the balcony. Let us talk there.”
The first set had only begun, and neither lady had been asked to dance. It would be a half hour or more until the next set began, ample time for some cooler air and a soothing chat.
“You were frowning at the mirror, Lizzy.” Charlotte’s voice was perplexed as they made their way through the crowded room. “You cannot have found fault in what it showed you. You are one of the prettiest ladies in Hertfordshire.”
“You are kind to say so, my friend,” Lizzy pushed open the double doors and stepped outside onto the balcony, allowing the doors to close after Charlotte had joined her.
The noise all but vanished, reduced to a dull murmur from behind the door, replaced by the ambient sounds of the evening: horses whinnying from the courtyard just behind the building, the sounds of laughter from the groomsmen and drivers who were enjoying their own revelries whilst their masters played at dance and cards, the distant sound of a dog’s bark or an owl’s hoot.
Elizabeth breathed deeply and let the air go with a rush.
“It is not the reflection that perturbs me, but the mirror itself.”
Charlotte shook her head in question, her eyebrows pinching inwards at the centre of her wide forehead. “I do not understand your meaning. Do you disapprove of the frames? They are rather heavy and of not quite the thing from the latest magazines, but they are not so very ugly...”
Lizzy’s laugh split the air, echoed by the mewling of a cat that prowled the town’s streets in the darkness.
“Not at all! I misspoke. I have no objection to the mirrors per se, but to their existence. Was not your father on the council that ordered them for the space? Papa mentioned his presence at all the many meetings involved in refurbishing these halls.”
Charlotte nodded her affirmation. “Mama had been complaining for years that the assembly rooms needed improvement. It was fortuitous that enough landholders and important families were able to fund the work. Father attended every meeting; this I know, because he was always most disagreeable the following morning.”