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S tarting with the summer she turned ten, Elizabeth and her three sisters would spend a month or two with the Lamberts, except not in Lambton.

It was at this estate that Lizzy and her sisters learnt to ride.

Anyone privileged to know her well thought her one of the bravest girls they had ever met.

However, thanks to the fact she was rather petite, Elizabeth was very wary around horses which were so much larger than herself.

On her first visit to Rambler’s Run, she was introduced to Pinkie, a Shetland pony, who was barely seven hands in height.

Elizabeth looked at the tiny horse and then back at the stable master who was with her. “She is not taller than me. Can she be ridden?” she asked as she approached the pony.

“Indeed, Miss Bennet, she is used to being ridden, and she can carry a full-grown man. This breed is one of the hardiest around. The master recommended her for you as you learn to ride. When Master Philippe began riding, it was on Pinkie. Miss Esmé also began on her, and you have seen how both of them ride regular ponies without any problems, have you not?”

She felt her courage rise. “I would like to learn to ride,” Elizabeth insisted.

From the time she began, it was clear to all who saw her that Lizzy was a natural in the saddle. The only thing she refused to do was ride side-saddle. None of the adults objected to her riding astride as long as she only rode at the Hardwicks’ estate and never in public.

By the end of that first summer, Elizabeth was riding a full-sized pony, and her fear of horses was a thing of the past. Until Lizzy began to ride, Mary had also been nervous around horses.

On the other hand, Cathy and Lydia could not wait to begin.

Seeing how much enjoyment Lizzy was having, combined with the fact she loved sharing experiences with her older sister and best friend, Mary was soon in the saddle, although she decided she would be a proper miss and ride side-saddle.

In addition to riding, Elizabeth had begun to learn about estate management from Mr Hardwick.

She had expressed an interest in the running of his estate, and he had answered her questions to indulge her.

It soon became apparent that with her ability to recall anything she had read, even a single time, her intelligence and aptitude for the subject were such that she was soaking up everything Mr Hardwick taught her.

In the last few weeks of that summer, Elizabeth had been present during meetings between the master and steward of the estate, and more often than not had good suggestions which neither man had considered.

Over the subsequent years as Lizzy became extremely proficient in the running of an estate Hardwick realised that if he was already called home to God when Philippe got older, Lizzy would be able to help and guide his grandson when it came time for him to manage his inheritance.

In the summer of 1802, Elizabeth began to ride a cob, and by the time she was thirteen, two summers later, in 1804, she was on a full-sized mare.

She had, albeit reluctantly, learnt to ride with a side-saddle in 1803.

It was not what she preferred; however, it was the only way Aunt Madeline and Uncle Edward would allow her to ride in any of the parks, or any other public places, in London.

As Hyde Park was barely a half mile from the house, it had been worth it for her to learn to sit—more like perch—in the uncomfortable, infernal saddle.

Mary had been very smug at the time, as her older sister had always sworn she would never use that saddle.

The Gardiners made sure that they passed a few weeks in Meryton and its environs each year, even if for a few years Cathy’s birthday had been celebrated at Rambler’s Run.

Those who lived in the area were amazed all over again each time they saw the Bennet sisters from London.

Their intelligence and accomplishments far exceeded anything the denizens of Meryton had ever seen.

As impressed as they were with Miss Mary, Miss Bennet was like nothing they had ever imagined.

Not only was she exceedingly intelligent—far more than anyone, male or female—any of them had ever met, but she was kind and compassionate.

She never used her intelligence or her accomplishments to make others feel less than her.

If all of that was not enough, she was a true beauty.

Unlike her half-sister, she had inner and outer beauty.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Since Anthony’s graduation from Cambridge in 1802, he had spent at least half of the year with his uncle preparing himself for the possibility of succeeding Uncle Archy to the title.

As he was not a son, he did not have the title of Marquess of Hertford.

About two of those months were in London and the rest at Falconwood or one of the satellite estates.

More often than not, the secondary estate of choice was Castlemere.

The rest of the year, Anthony was with his father learning about his inheritance, Rivington in Surrey.

If his uncle remarried and sired an heir, Anthony would still have a very large estate with an income above twelve thousand pounds per annum.

If he was elevated to the dukedom then his second son would bear the Barrington name and inherit the family estate.

If he had no sons or only one, then one of his sisters’ sons would have Rivington.

In Hertfordshire’s mind, once he passed his fortieth birthday in January 1802, he accepted he would never remarry. He had a very good life and did not feel like anything was missing.

By the end of 1803, the new Hertfordshire House was ready to be occupied on the newly developed Russell Square.

So far his cousin, who was completing the late Duke of Bedford’s dream, had only had three, rather enormous, houses built.

Bedford House was two doors down, while the centre house had been sold to a fantastically wealthy tradesman.

A few months before the new house was ready, Hertfordshire’s cousin, John Russell, the current Duke of Bedford, had met with him and asked if he was willing to sell his shipbuilding yards.

As he had previously intended, Hertfordshire agreed.

The cousins had left it to their men of business to settle on a fair price.

Not that he needed it, but the sale increased his ready funds by almost fifteen percent.

As it was, even before the funds were transferred, the Duke had enough wealth for many lifetimes.

Even though his sister and Barrington had tried to demur, Hertfordshire had more than tripled his nieces’ dowries to almost forty thousand pounds each. Loretta, almost two and twenty, was being courted, and Marjorie was looking forward to her second season and was not in a hurry to marry.

During the season of 1804, Lord Telford Granger, the Earl of Tamarin, had pushed his second daughter at Hertfordshire with gusto. She was prettyish, but had no personality, no opinions of her own, and had been out for five years.

Using his contacts to investigate why the man was so insistent to marry off his daughter, it became apparent that the lady was with child and one of the grooms at the Earl’s estate was the father.

When the Duke let the Earl know he was aware of why Tamarin was so desperate to find a husband for his daughter, the latter had taken his disgraced and ruined daughter back to the country.

A month later Hertfordshire heard that a very minor country gentleman had accepted her for a five and twenty thousand pound dowry, which would be under his control. It was certain Tamarin would not show his face in society for a long time.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

One of the results of the attempt on his life was that William Darcy was far more suspicious of the motives of anyone who wanted to befriend him.

He began to keep himself aloof from those he considered below him socially, ascribing some of the Wickhams’ actions to their lowborn status. At times he felt very alone.

Thankfully his cousin Richard, who was less than a year older than himself, had always been with William at school; that had been true at Cambridge as well. The two had shared a suite of chambers from the time they began their studies there in 1802.

It was there the two cousins had met Charles Bingley, the son of a tradesman who was a year behind them at school.

William had not been interested in getting to know the affable fellow more than was necessary.

His experience with the Wickhams held him back.

However, Richard had become close to Bingley, and it had taken the bulk of the second year at Cambridge, but eventually William had warmed towards Bingley and accepted him as a friend.

A few months before the cousins graduated in 1804, they had the displeasure of meeting Bingley’s sisters.

Miss Louisa Bingley was two years older than her brother and was engaged to a Harold Hurst, a gentleman from the third circles.

As she was engaged, she did not set her cap at either cousin.

However, the youngest, Miss Caroline, who was four years Bingley’s junior, decided that unlike her older sister, she would have a man from the first circles.

At first, she set her cap at Richard, as he was the son of an earl, but when she realised he was only a second son while William was the heir to a vast estate, and so much more, she decided he would be her future husband, regardless of his thoughts on the subject.

It was the first time and, if they had anything to say about it, the last time that the cousins would be in company with Miss Caroline Bingley.

Thankfully both the Darcy and Fitzwilliam parents had assured their sons they would fully support them in their refusals to gratify a compromise if someone attempted to entrap them into a marriage.