14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
March 25, 1812 Hunsford, Kent Elizabeth
E lizabeth walked her favorite path, humming quietly to herself. There were more flowers now, and their beauty enticed her further into the trees. She preferred nature to take its course rather than being forced into uniformity. Rosings Park’s gardens were lovely, but they did not appeal to her as the loveliness of nature did.
She entered the bluebell meadow and sucked in a deep breath. Spring had finally taken complete hold of the Kentish countryside, and she reveled in it.
A snapping twig caught her attention and she turned. Across the meadow, on the other path that led toward Rosings Park, was Mr. Darcy. He sat atop a large horse. The animal’s coat was completely brown except for a white streak on its neck that went from its jaw to its shoulder. The streak marred the otherwise perfect coloring and Elizabeth marveled that the fastidious Mr. Darcy would deign to ride a mount that was anything less than flawless.
“Miss Bennet,” he said, dismounting. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, sir,” she replied evenly. “I hope you are well.”
“I am. I wished to ride out earlier, but now can only be pleased to have been delayed.”
Her expression must have shown her confusion, for he continued after a pause. “Had I accomplished my morning ride earlier, I would not now have the pleasure of your company. Do you often walk the paths?”
He spoke amiably, politely, his demeanor kind instead of censorious. Was this the same Mr. Darcy who had glared at her so severely yesterday over tea? “I walk out every morning, when the weather permits. You may recall Miss Bingley’s assertions that I am a great walker. She is correct; I enjoy the exercise and the opportunity to observe the beauties of nature.”
“Might I join you today?”
His request came as a surprise. Why would he voluntarily be in her company? “Of course,” she said. She hesitated. He most certainly asked because politeness demanded it. “This is one of my favorite walks.” If he knew it, he could avoid having his ride disrupted in the future.
He smiled; it was a sight Elizabeth did not believe she had seen during the months he dwelt in Hertfordshire. “Shall we?” he gestured back down the path he had come from, and they walked side by side, Mr. Darcy leading his horse. The awkward silence made Elizabeth nervous, and she scrambled for a topic of conversation to fill it.
“Is the horse yours or one from Rosings’s stables?” she asked after several minutes.
“Ares is mine,” he replied. “My father gave him to me just before he died. The breeder did not wish to keep him as a foal due to the white on his shoulder. It is their loss; Ares is the perfect mount. He is steady, fast, and strong.”
“His coloring is unique. I have never seen a horse that has such a brown coat.” Elizabeth could not help but admire the animal, even though she held no fondness for horses.
“Do you ride, Miss Bennet?”
She shook her head. “Not for enjoyment. I can ride, but I choose not to. My feet can take me wherever I need to go.”
“Yes, you demonstrated that. It is three miles from Longbourn to Netherfield Park, is it not?” She could not tell if his words contained censure or disapproval, but she did not like his tone.
“It is.” Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin in defiance.
“A distance more than three times what most ladies can accomplish.” He stared straight forward, and Elizabeth wished she could see his expression, to better understand what he meant by that. She changed the subject.
“Your cousin seems a most amiable gentleman. Will you both be here long?”
His posture stiffened and his jaw clenched. “We remain as long as it takes to review the estate books,” he said evenly. What had she said to cause the return of the cold, proud Mr. Darcy? “My cousin is on leave from his regiment.” He turned and looked at her, an unfathomable expression on his face. “How long have Sir Andrew and Lady de Bourgh been in residence?”
The change of subject jarred her, but Elizabeth answered the query. “Not more than a sen’night. Their arrival surprised Lady Catherine.”
“My aunt is not pleased with their company. Anne seems happy to see them, however, and so Lady Catherine suffers their presence. Have you dined at Rosings Park often since their arrival?” He stared intently at her as if trying to divine something from her answers, and Elizabeth could not comprehend what he wished to know.
“We have dined once and taken tea twice.” She looked away from him; his pressing stares made her uncomfortable. “Sir Andrew is a dutiful grandson. Lady de Bourgh is bold and domineering. I can see why Lady Catherine does not get on with her.”
“Sir Andrew has long professed he will not marry.” Mr. Darcy’s words held caution, and she glanced at him, perplexed.
“Yes, he intimated as much.”
“It would not do for a lady to expect anything more than an acquaintance from him.” His imploring expression tried to convey something, and Elizabeth did not comprehend. Did he wish her to caution Charlotte? Her friend needed no such intervention; Sir Andrew had disabused her of any expectations without cause.
“I see,” she said, not knowing what else to do. Mr. Darcy visibly relaxed, and the trees broke as the path opened to the wider lane. She turned toward the parsonage, not expecting him to follow. He did, however, and stayed in step beside her.
His next question irked Elizabeth more than all the others. “How long has your sister been in Kent?”
She bristled. The reminder that Mr. Darcy had likely persuaded his friend against Jane, resulting in her loveless marriage, fueled her ire. “Jane has been married since before Christmas,” she said shortly.
“That long?” he seemed surprised, but there was a hint of something else in his tone that she could not decipher.
She nodded, pressing her lips tightly together against the vitriol that wished to spew forth. When she had regained her equanimity, she asked, “Does Mr. Bingley mean to return to Netherfield Park now that winter is ended?”
“I do not know my friend’s intentions, but when we last spoke, he talked of giving up the lease.” He sounded so proud and arrogant, so sure of what he said. It infuriated her.
“If he means to give up the lease, then he had better do it. The neighborhood—and the estate—would benefit from a dedicated and attentive master.”
“Bingley is both those descriptors.” Now he sounded defensive. Good.
“Is he? He leases a country estate, resides there less than half a year, and then his entire household decamps from the neighborhood with nary a call to farewell any of his new acquaintances. Meanwhile, the estate is closed up, left empty once again. I do not call that attentive and dedicated, sir.” She pressed her lips together again, for she wished to continue in that vein, detailing Jane’s disappointed hopes. Had her sister not married Mr. Collins, she would have been left open to the derision of their neighbors.
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. “He did not… that is… Business in town kept him there, and then family matters in the north…”
“Hmm.” She made a noncommittal reply, pleased that she could discompose him. The parsonage appeared ahead, and she turned to farewell him. “Goodbye, sir. I do hope you accomplish your tasks at Rosings Park in a timely manner.” Then you might go away again.
“Miss Bennet.” He bowed and turned to mount his horse. She did not watch until he left; instead she pulled open the gate and went inside. Her outerwear she deposited in her chamber and there she stayed until luncheon.
Another letter awaited her on her bed, and she picked it up eagerly. This one was from Lydia.
Dear Lizzy,
La! You did not expect a letter from me! I would not have written, except I do not have anyone else to tell now that I have spread the news all about Meryton. Mr. Wickham is engaged! To Mary King! I know he has courted her since December, but I did not expect it to result in a wedding. She is such a nasty, freckled thing! If I had a dowry of ten thousand pounds, Wickham would marry me and not her. It is unfair.
Papa will not give me any more pin money so that I can buy a gown to impress Wickham. I think I can still draw him away from her and make him see that I am superior in every way. Instead of helping, Papa hides in his study as he ever has. He hired a steward; did Mama tell you? Mr. Brown is a useful sort of man. He is neither plain nor handsome. He is not as tall as Wickham, either.
Oh! Before I forget, I must tell you before Mama or Kitty does. The thief has struck again! This time, he stole Mrs. Goulding’s prized silver. You remember the set—it is the one with the gold inlaid in the handles that belonged to her grandmother. Five knives and eight spoons—gone! Everyone is growing so suspicious. Sir William thinks the thief is amongst the militia, but it cannot be so! They would not dishonor their red coat in such a manner.
I will close now so that I can post my letter before Kitty. She wanted to tell you, but I did it first!
All my love,
Lydia
No letter from Kitty accompanied this missive. Lydia had triumphed over her elder sister once again. Elizabeth sighed. Lydia’s childish antics needed to be curbed. Their father refused to do it and their mother saw nothing wrong with her youngest’s wild manner.
She wondered about the Meryton thief. Sir William’s suppositions were likely correct. The members of the militia, officers included, were not wealthy men. Had one or two of them amassed a large number of debts that they wished to settle? She could only hope that the villain would be caught soon.
Charlotte
Charlotte met Sir Andrew at the gate, and they proceeded down the lane away from the parsonage and Rosings Park. She and Elizabeth usually went in the opposite direction when they walked, and so she eagerly anticipated what sights lay toward the village of Hunsford.
“There is a little-known path in this direction that circles through a small grove of trees before turning back toward the parsonage.” Sir Andrew slowed and turned onto a barely visible track about a hundred paces past the parsonage gate. She walked beside him, the path wide enough for them to proceed side by side. Tall shrubs and trees lined either side of the way. Charlotte paid close attention to where she placed her feet, for the path they trod had many ruts and bumps and rocks.
“I have told you my story, Miss Lucas,” Sir Andrew said after a few minutes of silence. “What is yours?”
“I do not think it proper to disclose such intimacies on so short an acquaintance.”
“Why in the world not?” Sir Andrew sounded impatient. “You and I have established that I am a confirmed old bachelor, and you are a spinster on the shelf. Since there is no hope of a romantic relationship between the two of us, we are entirely safe to walk out alone and become the best of friends. You interest me, Miss Lucas, and there have not been more than a handful of ladies in the past who have managed that.”
“I do not know what I have said or done to interest you.”
He laughed. “You have fire. Most ladies are demure, agreeing with everything their suitor says without thought or question. You did not hesitate to berate me for my words that day you fell into the stream. Now, I insist. Why are you here at Hunsford in the home of the newly married Mrs. Collins?”
“I am here because Jane invited me, along with Elizabeth.” Charlotte did not wish to tell him that part of her reasoning stemmed from wishing to make Mr. Collins uncomfortable. Such petty feelings did not speak well of her.
“And I suppose your parents hoped you would meet a dashing man who would sweep you off your feet?” His tease hurt more than humored her. They had wished that.
It is good that Jane has invited you to Kent, Charlotte. We cannot afford to take you to town to find a husband. You will have to bear Mr. Collins’s presence, despite his ill-treatment of you .
Mama had gone on, detailing how convenient the whole situation was. Charlotte would have the opportunity to see more of the world and have different society, all at very little expense to her parents. She brushed her hands down the front of her remade gown. It had been at least two years since anything substantial had been added to her wardrobe. No, the money for gowns went to Maria now. Her younger sister was passingly handsome, and her lively disposition attracted more gentlemen than Charlotte’s quieter personality had.
She sighed. “You are not incorrect. I did not come to Kent in search of a husband, but they sent me here hoping for just such an outcome.” It pained her to admit it aloud, but there it was.
“I suppose they did not realize how confined and unvarying the society around Rosings Park is. My hostess’s home is the principal estate in the area. Hamblin Hall is in another parish an hour to the north and Briar Court is an hour to the south. My estate borders Rosings Park.”
“How fortunate that Sir Lewis won an estate so close to his home.” What were the odds of that? Charlotte wondered.
“It is! Had he sired a son, both estates would have been within easy distance for management purposes. I suppose that is why Lady Catherine does not wish me here. She is likely afraid I shall sweep Anne off her feet and marry her.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
“Would that not be a beneficial arrangement? You said your cousin is too sickly to bear heirs and you implied that you do not wish to be troubled with a needy wife.”
“I see why you reason such, but I am afraid despite the benefits to Anne and myself, there is another reason Lady Catherine prefers Darcy to me.” He stopped and turned to look at her. “You see,” he said conspiratorially, “Anne is the heir to Rosings Park until she marries or dies. If she marries, the property becomes her husband’s. If she dies, Sir Lewis’s will dictated that the property would revert to the current baronet.”
“So, if Miss de Bourgh married you or not at all, then Rosings Park would be yours.” Charlotte did not quite understand.
“Exactly. You see, Lady Catherine manages the estate. She has never taught her daughter to do so, claiming that Anne is far too ill to learn. If Darcy marries my cousin, he will take her to Derbyshire, leaving Aunt Catty in control of Rosings Park. Darcy will visit once a year to see to the estate books, but he will leave everything in my aunt’s hands. At least, I think that is what she believes. But if Anne married me, then I would take over full management of Rosings Park. It is close enough to Briar Court that I can see to both estates with little difficulty.”
“She wishes her daughter married and away simply so she can keep control?” It sounded ludicrous, but Lady Catherine had displayed enough pride and arrogance that Charlotte could well believe it.
He nodded. “I think she is doomed to be disappointed. Now, I wish to know all that occurred between Darcy and Miss Bennet whilst he visited Hertfordshire.”