Chapter 8 #2
"How fascinating. I must confess that I have read a great deal about you, General, and it is an honour to meet one of England's true heroes," Elizabeth replied, instinctively smoothing her hair in an attempt to make herself appear more presentable.
She was standing before one of the most distinguished generals in the country and did not wish to look as though she had just run across a field.
"The honour is all mine, Miss Bennet. I am flattered that a young lady such as yourself should know anything about an old general like me," Marcus replied with a warm smile.
It had been more than twenty years since he had last spoken the name Bennet. She seemed a delightful young lady. Silently, he prayed that her father had treated her with far greater kindness than he had ever shown his own sister all those years ago.
"My dear General, anyone listening to you would imagine you to be a frail old grandfather who spends his days sitting by the fire because he can scarcely walk," Elizabeth said playfully.
Marcus burst into hearty laughter.
"You are quite right. Perhaps I exaggerated a little. Still, I am no longer the young officer I once was."
He found himself happier than he had been in months.
Talking with Elizabeth felt almost like speaking to a part of his beloved Ella.
She was the niece of the woman he had loved most in the world and the cousin of the daughter he had never known.
In many ways, she also reminded him of himself when he had been young, carefree, and full of life.
Lady Claire watched the exchange in astonishment. Her Uncle Marcus was talking, laughing, and jesting with a young lady he had met only moments before. He was usually so reserved that she had never seen him so relaxed with anyone except herself.
"I do not know where my manners have gone," Elizabeth said, glancing towards her two cousins. Then she turned to the others.
"Mr Darcy, Miss Darcy, Lady Claire, General Sinclair, may I present my brave cousins, Laura and John Gardiner."
Laura and John greeted everyone politely, and their greetings were warmly returned.
The general could not resist asking, "Forgive me, Miss Bennet, but why did you say that your two charming cousins are brave?"
"General, I called them brave because they have spent nearly two hours trying to teach me how to fly a kite with remarkable patience and without losing heart. Despite the hopelessness of the task, they have refused to give up," Elizabeth replied, offering him her most radiant smile.
"I understand. Then I believe they have earned a medal," Marcus concluded.
“As a general, I am the one to award such honours.” He stepped in front of the children and, holding an imaginary case in his left hand, pretended to hand one medal to each child who, being young, instinctively knew how to play along with make-believe.
“For bravery in the face of impossible odds!” John even mimed pinning his to his shirt.
“Thank you, General Marcus,” they both chimed.
Everyone laughed, and they continued chatting for a few more minutes. Marcus found himself deeply impressed by Elizabeth and could not help thinking how dearly Eleanor would have loved her niece had they ever been given the chance to meet.
Mr Darcy had noticed that Elizabeth was carefully avoiding any conversation with him.
In one respect, he was relieved, for he feared his feelings might overcome his reason if they spoke for too long.
Yet he could not suppress a pang of jealousy as he watched General Sinclair become the recipient of all Elizabeth's warm smiles.
"It is growing late, and we really must be going. It has been a pleasure meeting you all," Elizabeth said.
"The pleasure has been entirely mine," Marcus replied.
There was something about the delightful Elizabeth that brought him an unexpected sense of peace. He had long been a troubled soul, one who found little joy in life. Yet those few minutes in her company had restored a small part of Ella to him.
Mr Darcy knew he ought to let her go and hope they would not meet again. Even so, he could not resist saying, "Miss Bennet, allow me to offer you my carriage. I should be pleased to see you and your cousins safely home."
He knew Cheapside was a considerable distance away, and there was no carriage in sight. The truth, however, was far simpler: he was behaving like a hopeless fool who merely wished to spend a few more minutes in her company.
Elizabeth glanced from him to Lady Claire and could not understand why he was offering his carriage when it was obvious that he was accompanying the young lady.
"That will not be necessary, Mr Darcy. As you know, I much prefer walking."
"I know, but—"
“Good day, sir,” Elizabeth said, looking first at Mr Darcy and then at the rest of the party. “I hope you all continue to enjoy this beautiful afternoon.”
Before Mr Darcy could finish speaking, Elizabeth and her two cousins began walking back towards Lady Campbell's house.
As he watched them leave, Mr Darcy recalled the look Elizabeth had given him when she glanced at Lady Claire. A feeling of utter misery settled over him. She believed he was courting Lady Claire and must now think he had forgotten her.
Noticing that his niece seemed uncomfortable beside a gentleman who had scarcely uttered a word, Marcus offered her his arm. He suggested they go and look at some of the birds he found particularly fascinating. Claire accepted at once, relieved to escape the awkward situation.
Mr Darcy offered his arm to his sister, and they continued their walk for several more minutes, though his thoughts remained far away.
Meanwhile, as they made their way home, the children continued talking excitedly about how much they had enjoyed their afternoon in the park. Then Laura could not resist making an observation that caught Elizabeth's attention.
"Lizzy, did you notice that General Sinclair has the same eye colour as you? Not only the colour, but even the shape of his eyes and his eyelashes are alike. I always notice people's eyes," Laura observed.
"Then that must mean I have very pretty eyes, because General Sinclair certainly has beautiful ones," Elizabeth replied with a laugh as the three cousins continued on their way home.
◆◆◆
Thomas Bennet was in a foul humour. He was dining with Lydia and Mrs Bennet, while the two of them chattered loudly about the most frivolous subjects imaginable.
At least when Jane and Elizabeth were at home, they made some effort to moderate their youngest sister's vulgarity.
Without their influence, his wife and Lydia were simply unbearable.
"Mama, I believe half the officers are hopelessly in love with me," Lydia declared in a flirtatious tone. "I am almost afraid they will begin fighting over me. I only wish I could marry every one of them."
"My dear Lydia, what a ridiculous notion," Mrs Bennet replied with a laugh. "Though I have no doubt they are all in love with you. You are pretty, clever, and so delightfully lively."
"Lydia? Clever?" Mr Bennet muttered.
Neither of the women paid him the slightest attention.
Mr Bennet was troubled for another reason as well.
Earlier that day, he had received a letter from Elizabeth.
She had written at great length about Lady Campbell, devoting more than one lengthy paragraph to Eleanor's many virtues and describing how deeply she admired her aunt.
Thomas found himself counting the days until Elizabeth's return.
Once she was back at Longbourn, he would never again allow her to become so close to Eleanor.
He did not yet know how he would prevent it, but he intended to find a way.
For the moment, however, he decided to amuse himself at the expense of his foolish wife and youngest daughter.
"You know, Lydia, I received a letter from Lizzy today. She tells me that Lady Campbell has engaged one of the most celebrated modistes in London to create an entirely new wardrobe for all your sisters. They must now possess beautiful gowns made from the finest fabrics."
He watched with satisfaction as Lydia's face flushed with anger.
"I imagine Kitty must look very pretty by now. Indeed, I am beginning to think she will be the first of you to marry. Even Mary now has finer gowns than you."
Mrs Bennet immediately launched into a complaint, "My poor Lydia!
" Mrs Bennet exclaimed. "How dreadfully unfair this is!
All your sisters are receiving beautiful new gowns made by one of the finest modistes in London, while you are expected to wear the same old dresses.
It is enough to break a mother's heart."
Lydia, however, quickly recovered her composure.
"How fortunate for you, Papa. Since you have saved so much money, I am sure you will not object to buying me a new wardrobe as well. Mine may not be quite so elegant, but our dressmaker is perfectly capable of creating gowns in the latest fashion, and she can always order fabrics from London."
She smiled triumphantly at her father before turning to her mother.
"What do you think of my idea, Mama?"
"Such a wonderful idea, my dear Lydia," Mrs Bennet exclaimed. "Tomorrow, we shall send for the dressmaker. Lydia, my dear, we must order at least six new gowns. No, eight! You cannot possibly spend The Season wearing the same dresses."
"That will not happen," Mr Bennet interrupted dryly. "I have no intention of paying for another wardrobe."
"What?" Mrs Bennet cried. "How can you be so cruel? All your other daughters have beautiful new gowns, while poor Lydia has nothing. Nothing! Do you expect her to appear in society dressed like a servant?"
"I believe Lydia already owns more gowns than she needs."
"That is not the point, Mr Bennet!" Mrs Bennet wailed. "Every loving father would want his youngest daughter to look her best. You care nothing for the poor girl. You never have."
"Mama is right," Lydia added mournfully. "I shall be the worst-dressed young lady in Hertfordshire."
"You shall survive the ordeal."