Page 14 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

Longbourn

Three Days Later

Morning

It was a cool day, but not a frigid one, and the sun danced in and out of the clouds, warming the air, the ground, and the lady marching briskly along the path.

Elizabeth had risen early to speak with the eldest son of a tenant farmer.

The boy’s father had broken his leg two days previously, and the youth, only sixteen years of age, was now trying to manage the family’s livestock with the help of a younger brother and two younger sisters.

The mother of the family had died in childbirth some years earlier, and Elizabeth knew that the Millers’ situation had been difficult even before this catastrophe.

She had arranged for two servants from Longbourn to ride over later in the day to evaluate the situation and see what could be done to support the family.

Weary and fretful about their plight, she had decided to go for a long walk. After donning her boots and warmest cloak, along with a scarf made by Kitty and a hat knitted by the housekeeper, she had marched down a trail which made a circuit around the eastern edge of Longbourn.

Leaves crunched beneath her feet, orange and gold and red and brown, crackling like a fire that emitted no warmth.

Alongside the path, shrews and voles scuttled through the leaves, a squirrel darting up to a bole to chatter angrily down at her.

Birds chirped to one another, hidden amongst evergreen needles or gorging themselves on late berries.

The further she went from the stress and sorrows of the house, the calmer she felt. Some mile down the route, she stopped and tilted her face back into the sun and the breeze, eyes closed, and relished the peace of the woods.

She was grateful for the chance to walk her family’s land.

The house was oppressive, with her father’s declining health and the grief and the burden of the estate.

But she was equally thankful for her family; her kind, caring, sensible Uncle Josiah and Aunt Charlotte, her dear sisters, even her rather silly mother.

It would be dreadful to be alone all the time.

As the breeze picked up, she shivered a little, and she started briskly forward once more.

Hoofbeats became audible as she neared the path that branched off towards Netherfield, and as she approached the fork, she saw the Darcys astride a gray mare and a great black stallion. She slowed as they both reined in .

Mr. Darcy inclined his head and tipped his hat slightly. “Good morning, Miss Elizabeth.” Beside him, Miss Darcy was flushed pink, and she smiled down at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth leaned her head back to look up at the pair and gave a small curtsey just skirting on saucy. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy. A very fine morning indeed, for a ride – or a walk.”

“Do you ride?” Georgiana inquired. Darcy glanced down at his sister, noting the wonder in her eyes at seeing a gentleman’s daughter walking alone without even a maid in attendance.

For his own part, he could only admire the air of strength and vigor around Miss Elizabeth, apparent in her pink-flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

“I do not, for I am not much of a horsewoman,” Elizabeth said cheerfully. “I am a great walker, though, the most enthusiastic in our family.”

She considered the pair on horseback with interest. Mr. Darcy watched his sister attentively and rode close to her side, ready to intervene should her mare bolt.

The man was clearly a very caring older brother, which was a very pleasing quality.

She also noted, with a slight blush, that his own form and face were set off to great advantage atop his great black stallion .

“How very … pleasant,” Georgiana murmured, plainly bewildered by this habit.

“ I find it very pleasant,” Elizabeth agreed. “But I have been absent long enough. I must return for breakfast.”

Darcy inclined his head again, and Elizabeth strode on with a will. Georgiana watched her go with wide eyes. “How odd, for a lady to walk alone,” she said. “But see how strong and vigorous she is!”

Darcy opened his mouth to respond, but instead of the negative comment that rose first to his tongue, he found himself saying, “Not terribly odd. This is the country, after all, and she is walking on her family’s own land.”

“That is true,” Georgiana said thoughtfully as they aimed their horses back towards Netherfield. “Still, I do not think I would wish to walk without at least Mrs. Annesley or a maid.”

“I am glad,” Darcy agreed, ducking a low-hanging branch. But his mind turned back down the path they moved along, to a lady with wild-wisping hair and sparkling eyes, traipsing energetically away towards her home.

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Drawing Room

The scratch of Mary’s pen forming neat tiny letters and Kitty’s clicking knitting needles created a background cadence to the chatter in the drawing room.

Jane sat, hands folded decorously in her lap, and gazed out the window, tuning out the noise as her mind traced over the left ear of her elephant upstairs.

“The militia officers are very handsome in their red coats,” Lydia said, “though I fear they are rather too impecunious to be good husbands for any of us.”

“The lieutenants and the captains are likely poor,” her mother conceded, “but you cannot be certain of that. Most of them ought to have some kind of private income. As for the superior officers, well, if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, should want one of you girls, I shall not say nay to him, and I thought Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William’s in his regimentals . ”

The door to the drawing room opened, and a footman entered.

“A note for Miss Mary,” the man said, handing over the paper to the third Miss Bennet.

“For me?” Mary asked in wonder, carefully breaking the wax and spreading the sheet wide .

Mrs. Bennet rose and approached, with the mien of a woman eager to tear the paper out of her daughter’s hand so that she could learn its contents immediately.

“Well, Mary, who is it from? What is it about? Make haste and tell us; make haste, my dear.”

“It is from Miss Bingley,” said Mary, and then read it aloud.

Miss Mary,

Miss Darcy, my sister Louisa, and I have been left quite alone by the gentlemen, who are to dine with the officers. Would you, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia, be willing to visit us today? Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this.

Yours ever,

Caroline Bingley

At this juncture, Mrs. Bennet did confiscate the paper from her daughter and read it again, frowning throughout.

“You, Kitty, and Lydia?” she demanded indignantly. “What about Jane? Surely, Miss Bingley wishes to see Jane as well! Perhaps she forgot to add Jane’s name.”

Elizabeth, who had followed the footman in and had thus watched the entire scene, said, “If she had wished Jane to come, she would have addressed the note to her. I think it is a kind invitation.”

Mrs. Bennet’s expression was mulish, but Lydia promptly said in a whiny tone, “I do not know why you think only Jane should have an opportunity to become close friends with Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, and Miss Darcy. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are such fine gentlemen, and so rich, and if we spend time with the ladies, perhaps their brothers will fall in love with us! What about Kitty and me? Are we not handsome? Are we not worthy of wealthy husbands?”

“You are, of course you are!” Mrs. Bennet proclaimed instantly. “Very well, my dears; do hurry and get your cloaks and the like.”

“I am not certain I ought to go,” Mary worried. “I need to make plans for my wedding and...”

“Nonsense, Mary, nonsense!” her mother proclaimed.

“You have plenty of time and indeed, you must go, because the younger girls are too young to be quite alone, and besides, Miss Darcy plays the pianoforte and so do you, and best if they all understand how very accomplished you are. It looks rather wet outside – if we are very lucky, it will pour rain all afternoon, and you will not be able to come home before the gentlemen return tonight.”

“I will call for the carriage,” Elizabeth said.