Chapter 1
“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a proper young lady, and especially a gentleman’s daughter, is in need of a husband to provide her with a happy home,” Mrs Bennet declared during breakfast. “Just as much as any young man in possession of a good income must be in want of a wife.”
“Indeed, my dear madam,” Mr Collins readily approved from across the table, chewing noisily on his bread and nodding towards his cousins. “Lady Catherine would agree with your statement, I am sure.”
“I am certain nothing would make Mrs Bennet happier than having Lady Catherine’s approval,” Mr Bennet declared.
“Only a mother can understand what is in a mother’s heart,” Mrs Bennet continued. “My only concern is to see my daughters happy.”
“And I am sure that will happen, my dear Mrs Bennet,” Mr Collins said. “I wish only the best for my cousins. I was telling Sir William last night how I congratulate myself on coming to meet you all.”
“Oh, yes, Sir William. His daughter Charlotte is a lovely young woman, and intelligent too, but she is not so lucky as to possess much beauty.”
“Mama!” Jane interjected with apparent distress. “Charlotte is our friend, and she is a wonderful person.”
“Of course she is! Who would say differently?”
“You seem to have spent a pleasant time with Sir William and Mr Phillips,” Elizabeth said to Mr Collins. A moment later, she regretted her imprudence, as the clergyman turned to her with a broad smile.
“Indeed, my dear cousin. I am glad you noticed. I would never have dared to assume you would pay attention to what pleases me!”
“I did it most unwillingly, I assure you,” Elizabeth answered. “You appear to be well suited to their company.”
“Mr Wickham is the most pleasant man I have ever met. And the most handsome,” Lydia declared suddenly, causing Mr Collins to pause his chewing and frown, his mouth open to reveal the disgusting contents within.
“Yes, and he is so charming!” Kitty added. “Lizzy, you captured him for the entire evening! I hope you will not do the same at the Netherfield ball.”
“I did not capture anyone,” Elizabeth defended herself, her cheeks flushed. She had enjoyed Mr Wickham’s company more than any other man’s before, but she felt embarrassed under Mr Collins’s censuring glare.
“Indeed, my dear cousin, Lady Catherine always says that a young lady should never forget decorum in her behaviour and not show too much familiarity towards a man she is not related to.”
“But how much familiarity may a young woman show to a man she is not related to, if she intends to be related to him in the future?” Mr Bennet enquired quizzically.
Elizabeth covered her mouth with her napkin to prevent a most unladylike chuckle, while Mr Collins was clearly disconcerted by a question to which he seemed to have no answer.
“Oh, Mr Bennet, you and your teasing,” his wife interjected.
“Well, well, it was another most entertaining breakfast. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall retire to my library.”
“I may join you, sir,” Mr Collins readily offered.
“You are very kind. If you do, I must warn you that I have a book to finish, and I shall not be loquacious company.”
“I see… Then perhaps I could stay with Mrs Bennet and my fair cousins,” the clergyman declared, much to the girls’ despair.
For another hour after breakfast, the Bennet daughters were forced to bear Mr Collins’s pompous statements. Then, after another glass of wine and with the tiredness of the previous evening’s party, he decided to take a nap, and the ladies readily encouraged him.
Once Mr Collins was gone, Elizabeth sighed in relief. His increasing attention to her annoyed and worried her as much as her mother’s obvious approval. Even her father’s constant tendency to make sport of everything and everyone was becoming tiresome.
She feared she would have to face a ridiculous marriage proposal soon, and she was determined to try to avoid such a confrontation that could have only one ending but be the beginning of a continuous scandal in their house.
Elizabeth prayed that Mr Bingley would propose to Jane soon, for her sister’s sake but also her own. The engagement of her eldest daughter hopefully would make it easier for her mother to accept a rejection of Mr Collins.
After a little while, Elizabeth lost patience in listening to chatter about dresses and lace.
She knew no better way to acquire some peace than a long walk on such a misty autumn day, so she took her coat, bonnet, and gloves and left the house, despite her mother’s warning about catching a cold just before the ball.
It was chilly and smelt of winter. Elizabeth’s shoes slipped from time to time on the frosty ground, but she kept up her hasty pace, leaving Longbourn behind.
Dark clouds were covering the sky and blocking out the sunlight.
She decided not to venture too far away, so instead of keeping her usual path to Oakham Mount, she took an alternate route through the groves, among the lifeless and bare trees.
She enjoyed every season of the year, but that specific month, between the colourful autumn and the white, freezing winter, was quite gloomy.
The solitary walk allowed her to think about one of her new acquaintances — Mr Wickham — and the story he had revealed to her regarding Mr Darcy.
Despite her profound dislike of a certain gentleman, she had never denied that he possessed some good qualities too.
Therefore, she had been both surprised and appalled to discover his cruelty and lack of loyalty towards his childhood friend, and specifically how he had disregarded his father’s dying wish.
It seemed even more astonishing that he shared such a strong friendship with an amiable, honest, and goodhearted man like Mr Bingley — the man who had stolen Jane’s heart and had become the recipient of her family’s hopes for safety and a comfortable future.
So deep was she in her musings that, for a while, she did not notice the man walking towards her, holding his horse’s reins.
Despite the howl of the wind covering most other sounds, a sudden noise made her look up and see him. He stepped closer and closed the short distance between them.
The stallion was black, tall, and impressive, looking very much like Mr Darcy’s own horse. The man leading the beast was no less intimidating. His posture was stiff and his countenance severe.
They stared at each other for a few moments, then he bowed shortly, in a rigid, military fashion. He was likely in his late fifties, still handsome enough, his appearance betraying confidence and self-sufficiency.
“Forgive me, miss, do you know the way to Netherfield?” His voice sounded polite but as severe as his figure. His tone was demanding rather than questioning.
“Yes, sir. In that direction.” She gestured with her hand.
“I see. Very well. Thank you.” He bowed again and stepped away.
Elizabeth hesitated a moment, wondering why he was walking instead of riding.
“Sir, are you hurt?”
He turned and frowned, his eyebrow rising in challenge.
“Hurt? Why would you assume I was hurt?”
Elizabeth glanced towards the stallion, and he quickly understood.
“My horse slipped, and I am afraid he may have hurt his leg. I do not wish to risk worsening it, so I shall not ride him until we have attended to the injury properly.”
“I see. Well, these grounds are rather dangerous for riding, if one is not familiar with them. And Netherfield is only two miles away, but you are quite far from the main road, and there are many alternate paths. I had better accompany you out of the wood, to be sure you take your horse in as safe a direction as possible.”
Elizabeth smiled with her usual affability, and he appeared astounded.
“Are you going in the same direction, miss?”
“Not at all. Quite the opposite. My father’s estate is a mile and a half away. Over there.” She pointed.
“And are you alone?” He sounded puzzled, and she smiled.
“Yes. I have taken long walks alone through these lanes since I was a child. Come. Please follow me.”
He did do so, still reluctantly, she thought. “You should not walk alone — it might be dangerous for a young lady. There could be robbers, kidnappers, or many other sorts of prowlers.”
“Not around here, sir. But you are right, of course. I am always careful, although I have never had to face any danger of that kind.”
“Yes, but in such matters, one cannot be too careful. Once is enough for a tragedy to occur. And you surely should not offer to accompany a strange man alone in the woods,” he said with increasing seriousness.
“I am thankful for your help, though. Please do not consider me ungrateful. I am only thinking of your well-being.”
“Thank you. And that is precisely why I offered my company, sir. I did not fear that I may be in danger from you.”
“And why not?” he enquired further.
“Firstly, because you are on your way to Netherfield. No acquaintance of Mr Bingley’s could be a danger to anyone. Your appearance is impeccable, and although you also look severe and unfriendly, there is something in your expression that speaks of integrity and honour.”
He clearly did not expect such an answer and needed a few moments to fully comprehend it. Elizabeth was leading the way, attentive to her steps, so she missed the amused grin that softened his expression.
“You are familiar with Mr Bingley, I assume?” the man asked.
“Yes, very familiar. I am proud to call Mr Bingley a friend of our family, and while our acquaintance is not one of long-standing, he has proved himself a most worthy gentleman. Everyone in the neighbourhood approves of him.”
“Well, that is good to know. Bingley has always been a pleasant fellow, ever since he was a young boy. And a loyal one, I might say. I know he also has some family and friends here. Are you acquainted with them too?”
“Yes,” she answered, after a brief hesitation which the gentleman did not miss, judging by the pointed look he gave her.
“And you? Are you alone, sir? You are surely a stranger to this place,” Elizabeth continued.