Page 11 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

East Lawn

Netherfield

Two Hours Later

The sward between the stables and the eastern wall of Netherfield Hall was doubtless a lush and pleasant place in summer, and even now it showed the tending hands of skilled gardeners.

But even the most skilled gardeners could not prevent the mud of torrential rains or the brownish fade of grass in autumn.

Darcy was careful to stick to the white gravel path that bisected the lawn, whose crushed rock was starting to dry in the thin sunlight and brisk breeze.

Darcy was glad for his release from the house.

Not that the party was unpleasant, as he found himself enjoying it far more than he had anticipated.

He always relished Bingley's company, and Fitzwilliam's.

He did not know Stanton as well, but the two cousins were on amiable terms, and Sir Quinton was an easy-going man with a comfortable manner.

Even Miss Bingley was not making herself a nuisance, as she was ignoring him in favor of her noble guests, which was, in Darcy's opinion, the kindest thing she could do for him.

Despite the pleasurable company, he felt the need to escape into the outdoors, with only himself and the birdsong and the rain-washed air and the wind through the oaks and beeches.

He wandered for a while, relishing the solitude and not thinking of anything in particular.

Eventually, he found himself pondering their houseguests of the past days.

The Bennet ladies were full of surprises, starting with Miss Bennet herself.

Quiet and lovely and unassuming, she was polite and clever enough in conversation, but she showed no great signs of genius.

He had truly been astonished when she had beaten him at chess so handily.

But then, some people had sharp spikes of intelligence in specialized areas, he supposed, and Miss Bennet's happened to be in chess.

Perhaps Miss Elizabeth's did too. She was a remarkable woman, Darcy thought.

Though she did not have Miss Bennet's classically beautiful features, she was piquant, vivacious, and very handsome in her own way.

Where Miss Bennet's conversation was sedate and kindly, Miss Elizabeth's was witty and clever – not like Miss Bingley's witticisms, which tended toward biting put-downs towards those she considered beneath her, but with a cleverness that could not offend.

Nor did Miss Elizabeth simper or flatter, but she formed her own opinions and then defended them steadfastly in the face of opposition.

Most marriageable young ladies of the haut ton would never dream of arguing with a gentleman.

It was intriguing that this simple country miss would be so bold and yet so civil.

A figure caught his peripheral vision, and he turned toward the motion and watched with surprise as Miss Elizabeth Bennet, dressed warmly in pelisse and hat and gloves, pulled the back door shut and took a few steps towards the road which led towards Meryton.

“Miss Elizabeth!” he called out.

She looked at him, her eyes narrowed, and said, “Mr. Darcy.”

“You are out for a stroll?” he hazarded, walking closer.

Her lips compressed, and then she said, “I am walking home.”

He stared at her in wonder. “Walking home? I thought that you had agreed to stay until…”

“Mr. Bingley has not sent a servant to check the path to Longbourn, or at least I have not been informed of it. While we are grateful for Mr. and Miss Bingley’s hospitality, we all wish to return home, and I intend to send two mares here for my sisters.”

Darcy blinked and looked toward the house. Bingley, while an honest soul, was sometimes distractible, and likely had forgotten his pledge.

“I will consult with Bingley and send someone…”

“No, Mr. Darcy,” the lady interrupted decidedly. “I am no wilting flower, and this concern over a walk of a mere few miles is absurd. Good day.”

Darcy stared at her as she turned on her heel and marched away.

She was beautiful in her vigor, but more than that, she was astonishing.

Most young women, given the option of spending more days under the same roof with five eligible gentlemen, would do everything in their power to stay for as long as possible.

But Miss Elizabeth, it seemed, had no such desire.

Indeed, based on Miss Bennet’s words this morning, that lady too did not wish to overstay her welcome.

The lady probably would come to no harm, but he did worry a little. Even two days after the heavy rains, there might be…

He was walking before he had even thought it through, and then walking more rapidly still, and by the time he had caught up with the rapidly moving lady, he was puffing for breath.

“What are you doing, Mr. Darcy?” she demanded, though she did not slacken her pace.

“If you do not mind, I would like to accompany you,” he replied. “It seems a pleasant day for a walk, and I too would like to see how muddy the paths are.”

He was not used to placating ladies, but he guessed that if he told her the truth, that he was worried, she would not react well.

She glowered at him and said, “You need not prevaricate, sir. You are concerned about me, and as I said, there is truly no need. I suppose that the ladies in your family are not accustomed to walking long distances alone, but it is entirely common in the country.”

There was, he noted with admiration, no contrition in the lady’s voice. She was not embarrassed nor ashamed of her position in this matter.

“I am a trifle concerned,” he confessed, “but it is also a lovely day, and I would like a walk. Please allow me to accompany you.”

She sighed and said ungraciously, “I cannot stop you, I suppose.”

Darcy was not known for his sense of humor, but he found this statement remarkably amusing. He laughed and then, in response to the dangerous flashing in those fine brown eyes, said, “You cannot, unless you intend to push me into the nearest creek and rush off afterwards.”

Miss Elizabeth looked startled and then grinned. “I am not certain I could unless I was very clever about it.”

“Your elder sister shows a remarkable ability to outmaneuver her opponents on the chessboard. I can only hope you do not have similar skills when it comes to shoving and streams.”

His companion laughed and said, “I do not, I assure you. Very well, Mr. Darcy, we will enjoy a brisk stroll together, and if you are willing, you can ride back on one of the horses and lead the other one. That way Jane and Mary can return to Longbourn as well.”

“I would be pleased to do that,” Darcy said. “Now, I hope you will not take it amiss, but why do your sisters ride and you do not?”

“It is partly my own character and partly happenstance. We had a pony when Jane was eight and I was six, and Jane learned to ride on Muffin and then progressed to a gentle mare, whereas I fell off of Muffin and broke my arm. That gave me a distaste for riding. Muffin died when I was eight years of age and was not replaced for many years. By the time my father purchased another pony, Silvedore, I was happy to walk anywhere I wished to go. Mary, who wished to visit our tenant families on horseback, learned how to ride Silvedore and then moved on to horses. My younger sisters are indifferent to riding, and I like to walk, so only Jane and Mary ride.”

Darcy nodded and said, “I see we are approaching the footbridge. I assume you have crossed it before?”

“Many times,” Miss Elizabeth said, halting to consider the bridge. It was sufficiently narrow that only one horse could march across it, but its planks joined well together and there was no sign of bowing or potential failure.

“It seems safe,” Darcy said, though a little doubtfully. The creek below them was far higher than usual, and a dunking would be cold and unpleasant indeed.

“Yes, it does,” Miss Elizabeth agreed, and marched onto the narrow wooden bridge and across without hesitation. Darcy followed her, and when the pair had attained the other side of the creek, the lady said, “It is about two more miles to Longbourn.”

“Will your horses be able to manage that bridge?” he asked.

She frowned. “Jane says that both of the riding mares are placid and sensible creatures, but Daisy less so than Buttercup, and she might be reluctant to follow you on Buttercup. I daresay that Coachman Jack can ride Daisy to Netherfield if necessary.”

Darcy opened his mouth to protest and then closed it. Even a calm horse could be stressed by a new person, and the rushing waters of the stream might give anxiety to many an animal.

“Tell me about Pemberley,” Miss Elizabeth said as the pair turned onto a dirt path, which led under arching trees in their vibrant shades of yellow and red and orange.

Darcy felt a surge of irritation at this request, which he tamped down with difficulty. “What do you wish to know?”

The lady shrugged as she strode continually on at a remarkably fast pace. “I suppose I am most interested in the views. My aunt in London grew up in Derbyshire, and she tells me that it is far more mountainous than here in Hertfordshire.”

Darcy relaxed and said, “That is true. Pemberley is within sight of the Pennine Mountains, and the views are marvelous.”

“Does that mean that some of your land is too hilly to farm with ease?”

“Yes, though Pemberley has plenty of arable land. But the estate is also blessed with forests, which are useful for timber. Returning to your aunt, may I ask where exactly she lived in Derbyshire?”

“She grew up in a little town called Lambton, but she left some fifteen years ago for London, where she met and married my uncle. She often speaks of visiting old friends in Lambton, but my uncle’s business does not allow for him to leave Town for long stretches of time.”

Darcy turned a surprised gaze on his companion and said, “Lambton is but five miles from Pemberley.”

She looked at him now, her eyes slightly wide, and said, “What an incredible coincidence! What do you think of Lambton? Is it as charming as my aunt remembers it?”

“It is,” he replied with a chuckle. “My sister Georgiana is of the view that the sweet shop in Lambton is the best one in all of England, and probably in all the world.”

“I did not realize you have a sister.”

“I do. She is my only sibling and twelve years younger than I am. Georgiana is currently in London under the care of a companion, but I will see her at Christmas and look forward to that very much.”

At this moment, the path came to an end on a rather soggy lawn.

Darcy eyed it with some uneasiness, but Miss Elizabeth, obviously not concerned, strode across the gray-green grass, her boots squelching in the water.

He followed her to the stables, where two stable boys jumped to attention, and one of them dashed off into the stable block.

Within a minute, an older man appeared, dressed in workaday clothing, who said, “Miss Lizzy, this is a surprise. We all thought you were at Netherfield Hall!”

“Good morning, Coachman Jack. I was at Netherfield, and I walked back with Mr. Darcy to keep me safe,” Elizabeth replied cheerfully.

“The path is a little muddy, but it is not bad, and Daisy and Buttercup should be able to fetch my sisters from Netherfield. While we are grateful for Mr. Bingley’s hospitality, it is time for them to come home. ”

“What of the bridge?”

“The footbridge is safe, but the carriage bridge is not,” Elizabeth said concisely.

Darcy noted with interest that the coachman did not look at him for assurance of this statement. It seemed that Miss Elizabeth was trusted by her servants to know of what she spoke.

“Mr. Darcy has offered to ride a horse back, but I think either you or one of the boys ought to ride Daisy as I understand she is a harder ride than Buttercup.”

“I will ride her myself,” Jack Coachman said, and turned to Darcy. “Are you wishful of calling on the master or the ladies, sir, or do you want to return to Netherfield now?”

It occurred to Darcy for the first time that he had not informed anyone of his departure from Netherfield.

“I think I would like to return,” he said. “I would be pleased to ride a Longbourn horse if you do not mind and she can bear my weight.”

Coachman Jack tilted his head to consider his form and said, “It will be no problem, sir. Buttercup is a large creature. She is also placid, so I hope you are not expecting an exciting ride.”

Darcy chuckled and said, “I do not need an exciting ride, I assure you.”

He then turned to Miss Elizabeth and said, “I am confident you will see your sisters soon.”

“Thank you for accompanying me home,” she replied with limpid innocence. “It was very kind of you.”

He bowed and then watched as she turned and strode toward a side door of Longbourn, her dusky curls escaping from her hat, her movements energetic and free.

When he finally pulled his attention away from the lady, it was to observe the coachman looking on him with a solemn face and twinkling eyes.

“Shall I saddle up Buttercup, sir?” the man asked

Darcy firmly suppressed any embarrassment at his interest in the young lady. “Yes, thank you.”