Page 55 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Elizabeth leaned back in her seat with a soft sigh of pleasure. The distance from Rosings to London was less than thirty miles, and thus this journey would not be a long one, but there was still a definite pleasure in being carried along in a plush, well-sprung vehicle.
Across from her, the mistress of Rosings and her daughter sat side-by-side, and beside Elizabeth sat Mrs. Jenkinson. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were accompanying the carriage on horseback, and Elizabeth had noted, with a mild pang, that Darcy was incredibly handsome on his black gelding.
“Tell me about your uncle Gardiner, Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine directed from her position across from Elizabeth.
Elizabeth looked up with a hint of defensiveness. “My uncle Gardiner is my mother’s brother and is in trade.”
“Is he successful?”
“Yes, very. My mother was the beauty of the family, but my uncle seems to have inherited most of the brains. He and his wife are very sensible, genteel people. My older sister and I have often spent time with them in Town, and treasure their love and advice.”
Lady Catherine, who was seated across from her, nodded in approval. “You think, then, that we could share our purpose with your aunt and uncle if necessary?”
Elizabeth’s response was swift and grateful. “Yes, most definitely. They are entirely to be trusted, though I am not certain it will be essential to tell them about the League.”
“It may be required,” Lady Catherine declared. “You and the eldest Miss Bennet will, of necessity, be in our company frequently. Now, what kind of household you will be staying in on Gracechurch Street? Are there children in the home?”
“Yes, Madam, my four cousins, the eldest of whom is only nine years of age.”
“We will need to do our training elsewhere, then,” Anne declared. “Young children might well be alarmed, as our training can be quite noisy.”
Elizabeth looked puzzled and repeated, “Training?”
Anne leaned back and smiled a little. “Yes, Elizabeth, training in the art of self-defense. You will not have time to pursue extensive studies, but you will require some basic instruction from a valued member of the League, a Miss Colby, who is most skilled in hand to hand combat and basic knife work.”
More than once, Elizabeth had felt in the last days that she had drifted into some kind of surreal alternate world, but this took her breath away.
“Knife work, Anne? Surely you do not intend that I should carry a knife around with me as part of my daily life?”
In response, Anne reached down and fumbled briefly with her skirt; a moment later, she brandished a knife, its four-inch blade gleaming menacingly in the sunlight shining through the carriage window. Elizabeth gaped openly and then flinched as Mrs. Jenkinson withdrew her own knife, though the lady was careful to keep it well away from her seat mate.
Dazed, Elizabeth closed her mouth and turned her attention to Lady Catherine. The leader of the League reached down with both hands and produced not one but two knives from their sheathes, allowing her to flourish a wicked blade in each hand.
With eyes as large as saucers, Elizabeth fell back against the comfortable cushions in astonishment. “Oh my!”
Lady Catherine laughed openly at her young friend’s expression and carefully replaced the knives in the sheaths attached above her ankles, with Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson following suit. Elizabeth noted that the hilts were not ornate, but made of smooth wood, no doubt making it easier for these fearsome women to keep them hidden from potential enemies.
“Miss Bennet,” the leader of the League of the Golden Daffodil explained, “you must realize we have all garnered our share of enemies in the past years. We have done our best to conceal our true identities, but we are also sensible women; it is always possible that someone will attempt to harm us. Thus, unless we are safely at home, we are armed.”
“I admit that I do not feel easy with the thought of waving a knife around,” Elizabeth murmured.
“You will not be permitted to do so unless Miss Colby decides you have the necessary ability,” Anne said crisply.
Elizabeth let out a slow breath before replying, “Please tell me about Miss Colby.”
“She is my brother’s daughter,” Mrs. Jenkinson explained. “My brother was a sergeant in the army for many years before settling down in Dorset and marrying. My dear sister by marriage birthed four strapping sons and then tragically died in childbirth while delivering my niece; Priscilla has thus largely been raised by her father and brothers, and she showed an early aptitude in the art of protecting oneself. She and my brother taught me all that I know, and when I began serving the de Bourgh family some ten years ago, Priscilla was invited to Rosings for training sessions with other men and women.”
“Is Miss Colby as intimidating as she sounds?” Elizabeth inquired wryly.
The other ladies chuckled, and Anne shook her head. “On the contrary, she is only a little taller than you and is pretty, with delicate features. She also looks a few years younger than her thirty years, and men inevitably assume she is an easy mark. She is an extremely valued member of the League.”
Elizabeth gazed blankly out the window, her mind whirling with confusion and incredulity. It was almost too much to comprehend.
“I realize this is all a great deal to take in, Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine said, her voice now sympathetic. “Perhaps you would care to engage in another topic of conversation?”
Elizabeth nodded gratefully. “Yes, please. Can you tell me about Pemberley?”
“The mansion?”
“No, the lands, Lady Catherine. I understand from Miss Bingley, Mr. Bingley’s sister, that the mansion is quite magnificent, but I am more interested in the lands and the tenantry. If I am to consider marriage to your nephew, I would wish to know of the people who depend on Pemberley for their well-being.”
“That is most wise. Pemberley is a truly vast estate, even larger than Rosings. The more northern climate and the rugged landscapes of Derbyshire mean that the farmlands...”
As Lady Catherine continued, Elizabeth found herself listening with avid interest and growing respect; Rosings was itself an extensive property and must require much oversight. Mr. Darcy, as landlord and master of Pemberley and its tenant farms, had significant power to bring joy or despair, happiness or grief, even life or death to those under his guardianship. Based on Lady Catherine’s words, this gentleman, who had been forced to take up the mantle of ownership at a very young age, had done a remarkable job.
***
Darcy was thankful that his horse Phoenix was entirely capable of riding alongside a carriage with a distracted rider at the reins. In spite of all efforts to keep his focus on the road ahead, his eyes drifted inevitably to the carriage window through which Miss Elizabeth Bennet was conversing with her companions. As usual, the lady’s face was expressive and open, so unlike most women of the upper classes.
Phoenix shifted slightly closer to the carriage and Darcy realized that not only was he inattentive, he had actually directed the horse to move toward the object of Darcy’s affections. That was hardly safe, and he decided to fall back behind the carriage, where Colonel Fitzwilliam was riding his white horse some distance from the back wheels of their mutual aunt’s coach. To his surprise and irritation, Richard was wearing a broad grin on his face.
“Am I to know what amuses you?” Darcy demanded irascibly.
“Of course! I admit to being profoundly affected at the sight of my aristocratic and rather autocratic cousin practically drooling at the sight of a young lady.”
Darcy’s initial response was irritation, to be followed by sorrow. “Perhaps if I had previously been more open about my admiration for Miss Bennet, the situation would have resolved in a more positive fashion.”
“I doubt it, with Wickham’s lies ringing in her ears. But casting aside my ignoble enjoyment of this peculiar situation, I must ask – are you well, Darcy?”
His cousin took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes.”
Fitzwilliam gazed at his cousin curiously. “What are your true thoughts on this odd courtship with Miss Bennet?”
Darcy peered between his horse’s black ears for a full minute before answering, “I am overjoyed, Richard.”
“Are you? Even when the lady has made no firm commitment to you?”
“Only two days ago, Miss Bennet rejected me fiercely. Now we are engaged in, yes, an unusual courtship, but thanks to the interference of my most beloved relatives, I have hope. Yes, I am happy and hopeful.”
***
“Elizabeth!” Madeline Gardiner exclaimed, rushing forward to clasp her niece’s hands. “Are you well? Why are you here a full week before the anticipated time?”
“That is a rather long story, Aunt,” Elizabeth responded, pulling her aunt into an embrace, “but I promise all is well. Is Jane here?”
“She is at the park with the children and their nursemaid, but she should be back within the hour,” her aunt explained. “I am certain you would like to refresh yourself. You and Jane will be sharing your usual room. I assume you have your trunk? I will have Robert carry it to your room.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said gratefully. She had not yet determined how much she would need to tell her aunt and uncle, but at the very least she would inform them of her courtship with Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. That alone would make for a challenging conversation, since she had proudly declared her hatred of the man only a few months previously. If nothing else, this difficult situation was a good lesson in keeping control of one’s mouth.
A verse suddenly sprung to mind, one which, oddly enough, Mr. Collins had preached from only two weeks previously.
Proverbs 25:18
A man that beareth false witness against his neighborisa maul, and a sword, and a sharp arrow.
Wickham was indeed a sword, but Elizabeth could only regret that she had passed on the man’s lies about Mr. Darcy.
With a deep sigh, Elizabeth sank down onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. She could not go back and change her actions, so all she could do now was to mitigate the damage which was already done.
To her surprise, she felt her eyelids drooping closed. It had been a challenging few days, but she never napped...
Elizabeth fell asleep.
***
“Darcy!” Charles Bingley exclaimed in surprise, walking into the sitting room which faced out into the small but attractive garden behind his house. “This is a pleasant surprise! I thought you were in Kent!”
“I arrived only two hours ago,” Darcy explained, reaching out to shake his friend by the hand. “Are you well, Bingley?”
“I am well enough. Please, do sit down and share some brandy with me. I hope you and your family are well?”
“Yes. How are Miss Bingley and the Hursts?”
“My sisters and brother seem pleased enough with life. Caroline, in particular, much prefers London to the country, so she has been more cheerful than usual.”
“That is good,” Darcy said absently, taking a seat near the window and accepting a glass of brandy from his friend’s hand.
Silence fell as the two men sipped their brandy. Darcy, who had spent the last few days in a haze of confusion, realized he had not planned sufficiently for this meeting with his closest friend; he knew he needed to speak of Miss Jane Bennet with Bingley, but how to start? Would Bingley forgive him? Worst of all, what would he do if Bingley was no longer in love with Miss Bennet? Darcy and Anne needed to be in Netherfield to deal with Wickham…
“You might just as well spit it out, Darcy,” Bingley advised.
The other man jerked noticeably. “Spit what out?”
“Whatever you have to say.”
Darcy ran a hand across his forehead. “Is it so obvious that I have something on my mind?”
“My friend, you rushed here within hours of arriving in London, you still smell slightly of horse, your boots have mud splashes on them, and your cravat is poorly tied. I cannot on short notice think how you might be more obvious. If you had not assured me that your family is well, I would have assumed someone died.”
Darcy smiled slightly at this before plunging into an explanation. “Bingley, I need to speak to you of Miss Jane Bennet.”