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A PROMENADE IN HYDE PARK

T he next afternoon, Elizabeth met Lady Catherine at Himdale House, and before long, accompanied by Anne and Georgiana, they set out in Lord Matlock’s landau for Hyde Park.

That place, Lady Catherine opined, was the best to see and be seen, something with which Elizabeth had no argument—fresh air and sunny skies had always beckoned her out of doors.

November had been cold and rainy, and yet today was almost miraculously sunny; a few hours under blue skies was a welcome diversion.

However, despite the rare respite, it was certainly too chilly to ride in an open carriage, no matter how many lap rugs and warm bricks were piled inside.

Her suggestion of closing the top earned her a death stare from the dowager, who in her eagerness to humiliate Elizabeth was seemingly willing to risk her own daughter’s wellbeing .

How she rued the absence of Lady Matlock.

Darcy’s kind-hearted aunt had intended to accompany them in order to check her sister’s worst impulses, but she was called back into the house by the butler, who murmured something about a housemaid knocking one of Lady Catherine’s wigs into the fire.

Lady Matlock whispered to Elizabeth that she would organise a replacement while the other ladies were out.

Elizabeth could not but admire the countess’s calm response to the event—it was a true lesson in discretion for any lady, and thus unfortunate Lady Catherine could not be privy to it.

She promised to occupy Lady Catherine long enough to allow the household time to air out her rooms and dispel the smell of burnt horsehair.

Of course, banishing the stench and absorbing her ‘lessons’ could take hours, and much as Elizabeth enjoyed the brisk air and the company of at least one of her companions, maintaining a cheerful openness to one lady’s absurd and unending opinions without the assistance of another more sensible lady would be difficult.

Indeed, as soon as the landau’s door closed, Lady Catherine began the day’s lesson on the best way to make a good impression while promenading.

“There are several considerations one must always keep in mind. First, it is best to be on foot so that one may stop and speak to as many people for as long as possible. Today, however, we shall drive. ”

Elizabeth’s spirits fell further. She and Darcy had slept far too late to enjoy a morning stroll, and now she was to spend her afternoon trapped in a carriage being bombarded with lectures.

She glanced at Anne, swaddled within a voluminous mulberry rug.

I suppose she is used to such things. Lady Catherine has been inclined to abandoning her in carriages when loosing tirades against me.

Anne stirred and interjected solicitously, “Mother, are your feet bothering you again?”

“Do you see how Anne makes polite enquiries after the health of another person? That,” said Lady Catherine, “is a lesson I had not thought necessary, but you two ladies could learn from Anne’s fine manners.

” She looked fondly at her daughter. “I thank you for asking, but we shall discuss particular maladies later at tea. Tea is the proper occasion for conversation about afflictions and infirmities. You, madam,” she added, looking directly at Elizabeth, “clearly suffer from a need for far too much exertion.”

Elizabeth exchanged a startled glance with Georgiana as she pondered whether there was a particular form of exertion the lady found objectionable.

“The second consideration,” Lady Catherine proclaimed as the carriage crawled along, portending a very long drive and an equally long lesson, “is that one must not promenade inside a closed carriage or carry a parasol, as neither allows one to be seen as much as is desirable and may also obstruct one’s view.

One never knows who might appear, whether it is a lady of the highest order, a rogue, or an obsequious little toad.

” She looked at her niece with a gimlet eye.

Georgiana closed her parasol and settled it amongst the warming bricks at her feet.

“At the same time, one must be careful of one’s complexion and avoid too much exposure to the sun, lest one look like a peasant girl.” She eyed Elizabeth sharply, and Georgiana shrank into the corner of the carriage as much as she could without falling out into the street.

“This is indeed a great contradiction, Lady Catherine. How can one best resolve it?” enquired Elizabeth with great interest.

“With a large hat, of course! But not too large, as one’s visage will be hidden.

It must be of just the right size. Several large plumes placed at the front of the hat are ideal, as you see,” she said, pointing to the six large feathers drooping over her forehead, where they indeed provided a fair amount of shade.

Georgiana pushed her bonnet back futilely and then pulled it forwards again. “Do not worry,” Elizabeth whispered to her. “You look beautiful in your bonnet, and it certainly provides enough shade. All is well.”

Assured her sister’s spirits were easier, Elizabeth gazed at those fortunate enough to be walking.

In spite of its sharp chill, we are lucky to breathe fresh air, she consoled herself.

Lady Catherine was excessively fond of heavy floral perfumes, and Anne, she had noticed, favoured something that hinted of cherries. Not unlike the aroma of cherry brandy.

Lady Catherine continued speaking all the way to the entrance to Hyde Park.

Elizabeth was unfamiliar with the drive the carriage was traversing; her experience in London’s parks was on foot, often accompanied by her young Gardiner cousins.

She and Darcy had walked through Hyde Park on but three occasions—once before and twice after their marriage.

How she missed him, and hoped he was not too upset with her decision to indulge his aunt.

She wished he were beside her to point out the sights and share his thoughts on that stand of beeches, or the impressive riders, or that gaggle of young men strolling eagerly behind a group of young ladies and their chaperons.

A few park-goers turned towards the carriage, their attention caught less by the impressive Matlock conveyance than by Lady Catherine’s imperious pronouncements in her carrying voice.

“You must only purchase your walking boots at Hoby’s, but do not keep them in town.

Town is not for walking, nor is the country.

Simply put, ladies should not walk. Boots are only for those instances, a ride perhaps, if you are so inclined towards the equestrian arts, or a house party that requires you walk to the archery green. ”

Elizabeth lifted a gloved hand to conceal her incredulous smile. She nodded and tucked her half-boots under her skirts; Georgiana followed suit. Although it was difficult to discern through her many coverings, Anne appeared to yawn.

“It is important to instruct your maid to wash her hands twice before cleaning your slippers so she does not soil the lining!”

The horrors of Longbourn’s shoe cupboards! Boots, half-boots, some despoiled by mud and dirt, and the shoe roses that had littered Kitty and Lydia’s chamber! Elizabeth coughed away her laughter, drawing a disgruntled look from Lady Catherine.

“Are you ill? A lady is never ill in public nor in the presence of her husband. You had best drink some of Anne’s tonics lest Darcy realise he has a wife of weak constitution.”

“Oh yes, he would be troubled by any sign of illness,” Elizabeth agreed. She could feel Georgiana trembling beside her and asked Lady Catherine about proper behaviour in a public area so well populated by fine ladies and gentlemen. The response went on for an incalculable length of time.

“…And before you are wed, never lock eyes with a man. Such behaviour is reprehensible for an unwed lady, th e mark of a wanton harlot. When you are a wife, you should look at no man but your husband.”

“Could I not look upon my brother, or cousins, or uncles?” Georgiana squeaked.

“Do not be stupid, girl, they are your family. Of course you may look upon them.” Lady Catherine sighed heavily and thumped the floor of the carriage several times with her cane. “To the left,” she called. “I wish to tour the ponds.”

A chilly wind greeted them as the carriage turned, and within moments, a cold rain began to pelt down. Georgiana lifted her parasol, shielding herself and Elizabeth from the sudden downpour.

Squinting her eyes against the watery assault, Anne turned to Lady Catherine. “Mother, perhaps we should return to Himdale House.”

Lady Catherine thundered in reply, “Nonsense! It is but a gentle shower. You are made of stronger stuff than that. Your constitution has improved greatly over the last few weeks. On to the Serpentine!”

“The carriage will be flooded, Lady Catherine!” cried Elizabeth. She turned and began pulling frantically at the folded hood behind herself and Georgiana.

Then, over the sounds of pouring rain and screaming pedestrians, she heard the voice she most loved.

“Elizabeth! Georgiana!”

She turned to find the crest of the Darcy carriage, and her husband—her dear, dear husband—leaning out of the side-glass as it drew beside them.

Finley, the ginger-haired footman, jumped down and ran towards their driver, pulling on the reins to stop the horses.

Darcy followed, taking his wife and sister in hand and helping them into the cosy, covered coach, stocked with warm bricks and blankets.

He soon handed in Anne before settling next to Elizabeth and tucking a thick rug around her.

“Are you well, my love?” he said tenderly.

“I am, thanks to my heroic husband.” She gave him a warm smile. “But what of Lady Catherine?” Elizabeth turned to Anne. “Your mother is not joining us?”

Anne shrugged and continued swaddling herself in a dry blanket. “Mama is braver than the rest of us and will return to Himdale House in my uncle’s vehicle.”

Elizabeth stared out at the carriage. The velvet cushions and squabs would be ruined, and the footmen and coachman drenched, to say nothing of the poor horses and Lady Catherine.

“Your uncle’s carriage… He will not be happy.”

Darcy looked grim. “He is unaware of the situation. When I saw dark clouds approaching and learnt from Barnes that Lady Catherine had insisted on an open carriage, I quickly turned round to fetch you.” His eyes searched hers, and he said softly, “You and Georgiana are well? Truly? ”

“We are now, thanks to you as well as your sister’s sturdy parasol,” Elizabeth replied.

Snuggling into Darcy’s side, she glanced down at the bent, sodden thing, then spoke to Georgiana.

“I am grateful to you for your foresight, although I fear our bonnets are now ridiculous and in need of repair.” Rivulets of water streamed down her face as she laughed.

“Feathers and lace will fix whatever is gone wrong,” Georgiana giggled before evidently recalling Anne was in the carriage. Frowning, she sank under her blanket. “Thank you for coming to our aid, Brother.”

He nodded and leant out of the window once more. “Lady Catherine, will you come with us?”

“No, go on,” she shouted, pushing wet, drooping plumes from her eyes and huddling under the newly extended hood.

“I am made of sturdier stuff. I am a Fitzwilliam! I will not allow something as trivial as a few raindrops to ruin a fine excursion. I shall see you at Himdale House after I have tea at Gunter’s.

This lesson is over, madam, and you will not receive a second chance! ”

“Nor will she ,” Darcy said under his breath. “My uncle will have her head.”