Chapter 11 Reading Material
Much to Elizabeth’s disappointment, the morning light brought little in the way of clarity, but much in the way of a headache and sore jaw—a sure sign she ground her teeth during the night.
Jane had often complained that she sounded like a woodcutter when she had one of her frequent arguments with her mother.
She briefly considered a bit of laudanum, but stopped just before taking the dropper because she did not want to let her noble relatives win.
Instead, she put on her dress that lacked dog slobber (so far), and descended through the hidden stairs, not willing to risk running into the Matlocks accidentally.
It was a good plan and might have worked, had she not gone by the hidden door to Lady Matlock’s chambers.
Mrs Reynolds, in a fit of either good sense or a subtle put-down, had placed the lady in the room with the horrid furniture removed from the mistress’ chambers.
It was the most ornate room in the house, and likely in Derbyshire.
Elizabeth had no idea whether the lady considered it her just due, or her eyes were screaming in pain as Elizabeth’s had.
Lady Matlock was in the sitting room speaking with her husband, and while Elizabeth did not stop to eavesdrop, she might not have passed the door with her usual alacrity, when she overheard a bit of their conversation.
“Have you learned where she went yesterday? I swear, the little hoyden disappeared like a ghost. Who knows what she could be up to? I hope you plan to write Darcy about this debacle,” said Lady Matlock, without any hint of subtlety.
Abandoning any pretence of decorum, Elizabeth stopped to hear what the lord had to say.
“I have no idea. I asked around, but the servants either did not know, or they closed ranks around her. If the latter, that would be in her favour. The former, very much against her.”
“Well, I for one think she acted despicably, and I will be certain to let Darcy know if you do not.”
“You think refusing to entertain uninvited guests, against her husband’s explicit instructions, qualifies as despicable?” the lord asked, in a tone Elizabeth could not make out through the door.
‘Yes. We came here to help her and look how she acted. She has no idea what she is about to face.”
Elizabeth waited in breathless anticipation of what the earl would say. It sounded as if he might partially admire her actions, or at least not entirely disapprove. The next sentence would be telling.
“You must admire her spunk. She has some backbone—I will give her that. However, she seems to lack sense. She could make friends in the family with little effort, but she seems to think herself better than us. She is the interloper here, not us, and it is up to her to make a better place for herself, not the other way around.”
Lady Matlock seemed content to scoff loud enough for Elizabeth to clearly hear it through the door. Lord Matlock was not finished, though.
“We will stay a few days and try to learn what we can, but at the moment I am inclined to tell Darcy he made a bad choice, and he should escape it. That would be expensive, but I do not see how he can save himself.”
With that, Elizabeth lost all hope of ever repairing things with the Matlocks—not that she ever had much in the first place.
If they were ready to abandon all efforts after one exchange, and they were unwilling to hear, let alone acknowledge, her side of the story, then—then—then—well, she feared the family was irredeemable.
She had briefly hoped Lord Matlock had a bit of sense, and for a moment things had looked promising, but in the end it all came to naught.
That did not necessarily mean her husband was irredeemable or her marriage beyond saving.
She could well imagine someone abandoning her over her own family.
In fact, she did not even have to imagine it.
Mr Bingley might well have made an offer for Jane absent Mrs Bennet’s intervention at the Netherfield ball.
Not only that, but Elizabeth also strongly suspected Mr Darcy would have dissuaded him from making the connexion anyway, and to be honest, after the experiences from Michaelmas to the ball, Elizabeth could not really blame him.
Therefore, having some disagreeable relatives did nothing to raise or lower her husband in her esteem.
She tried to keep reasonable limits on hypocrisy.
For all she knew, her husband did not like his aunt and uncle, and they were just playing their own games.
That would certainly comply with the behaviour Mr Collins blathered on endlessly about Lady Catherine, who was apparently the earl’s sister.
As she left the Matlocks to their scheming, she wondered where that left her.
The rest of the stairs to the hidden exit door, and the walk to the stables, convinced her that the basic situation was unchanged.
She would either get along with her husband, or she would not.
He would listen to his relatives, or he would not.
The two were related, because if he took their word over hers, and did not even give her a chance, the game would be up before it started.
In fact, she thought the whole ordeal might prove useful in one way.
It was a convenient and easily administered test of her husband’s character.
If he condemned her based on his relatives’ testimony without listening to her side of the story, she would know everything about his character that she ever would.
If he instead acted fairly, tried to learn the truth and act accordingly, as a gentleman should, then that would conversely speak well of him.
All in all, Elizabeth felt some satisfaction in the assertion that within a week of her husband’s eventual return she would know how to judge him fairly and correctly. She would then know how to act.
Elizabeth found Mr Longman in the stable and gave him a cheery good day. They exchanged the usual pleasantries, but then the ageing groom surprised her with a direct question.
“Not my place to ask, Mrs Darcy, but you do not seem in the best of humours.”
“You are correct, but I hope to not take it out on you or your horses.”
Longman seemed a bit hesitant, but finally said, “Lord Matlock mistreats his horses,” with the same tone of voice he would use to describe a murderer.
“I suppose that tells you all you need to know about him.”
“Would you care for a suggestion, madam?”
Curiously, Elizabeth agreed immediately, so the man led her out of the stables and a few hundred yards to another enclosure. A dozen yards from the fence, he let out a whistle. By the time they approached the gate, a horse was running towards them.
“He is not as obedient as he seems. He just knows from experience that I only whistle if I have a treat.”
Elizabeth watched the horse trot towards them, and she had to admit he was the most beautiful stallion she had ever seen. A minute later, she became frightfully aware that he was also the biggest horse she had ever been that close to.
“Do not worry, Mrs Darcy. He will not harm you.”
Elizabeth smiled and was pleased to see Longman start slicing a couple of apples. When the stallion poked his head over the fence, she was happy enough to feed him the treats, a piece at a time.
“He is a beautiful specimen. Whose is he?”
Longman scratched the horse’s nose. “This is Omega, my lady. The master was going through a Greek phase when he named him. Alpha and Gamma have been long sold, though.”
“Ah, so this magnificent beast belongs to Mr Darcy?”
“No madam, he is yours.”
Elizabeth started. “Explain, if you please.”
Longman scratched the horse a few more times and looked around to ensure they were unobserved.
“I think this horse suits you, and it would not hurt to have your relatives see you on it. They think they can kick you around with impunity. It would not hurt to let them see a bit of your mettle, without having to do anything disagreeable.”
Elizabeth laughed. “That is a good plan, except that you of all people know I do not have the skills. Your instruction has been wonderful, but not that extensive.”
“That is where you are mistaken,” he replied with a chuckle. “You see, the master does not ride Omega anymore. We only keep him around because he brings in good stud fees. Are you curious about why he does not ride him?”
“Dying to know.”
“The master does not ride him because he is too docile. Your husband likes his horses spirited. You can get him to run like the wind for a few hundred yards, and none are faster. But once he loses interest in speed, he becomes as docile as a plough horse, and it takes some effort to even keep him moving. He will do admirably for you, and I think he will allow you some amusement.”
Elizabeth laughed at the groom’s antics. “You never steered me wrong before. How shall we proceed?”
“I ride him periodically just to keep in form. Let us saddle your old horse and Omega and ride out. After a mile or so, I will switch saddles and let you become accustomed to him. Give us a few days and he will be as comfortable to you as the old nag you have been riding thus far.”
Elizabeth laughed and wondered exactly what in her personality brought out so much impertinence in her staff. She wondered if it was good or bad for a mistress, but since she had no control over it, decided it was not worth the worry.