“Fine idea, Miss Lizzy,” the warden said approving. “Need to keep in practice. Might see your father again, that Lord Rochester, would not want to missagain.”
Elizabeth laughed, took the gun, stood behind the bale of hay that signified the firing line, carefully aimed, and hit very close to the center point of the target.
When the warden went down the line and announced that she’d hit the exact center of the target the other gentlemen cheered.
Whileonepart of the story about Elizabeth was that she was nowLadyElizabeth, and a considerable heiress, the other part was that she had put her talent with the gun to real use.
In the end she came second in the contest out of the twelve gentlemen who took part in it, having scored slightly more points than Darcy himself who came in third, and far fewer than Mr. King, who showed really excellent shooting, and had the manner of a man for whom this was his favorite form of sport.
Bingley handed Mr. King a particularly fine bottle of cognac as his prize. “The real thing. A very good distillation. An excellent fellow I know smuggled it direct from France.”
But as the afternoon wore on, Darcy found the noise and constant conversation wearing. His eyes mostly followed Elizabeth, and he could not keep from imagining her superintending over a great picnic at Pemberley. She would be exquisite in such a role.
At one point she went into the manor house with Mary, laughing and smiling with the other girl. Darcy wandered over to sit next to Mr. Bennet who sat on a reclined wicker chair shaded by an umbrella.
A copy of Ceasar’s commentaries, in Latin, was open before him.
Darcy sat in a chair next to him. “Do you have another book with you?”
Mr. Bennet laughed. “Reading? At a party?”
“I confess the whole is wearing.”
“Fine shooting from Lizzy. I’m proud of her, for simply entering the contest,” Mr. Bennet replied.
“I am as well.”
This of course brought Mr. Bennet to look at him with a knowing smile. For half a minute Darcy expected that Mr. Bennet would now also question him about his intentions towards Elizabeth, but instead the gentleman just handed him his book and leaned back on the chair. “Can you still follow the Latin?”
“Well enough, and the practice is good.”
“Feel free to ask Lizzy or myself if you’ve forgotten any words. But you strike me as one who likely learned the language properly.”
“I hope so.” Darcy paused. “Do you know, I suggested to her once that she become a teacher of Greek and Latin at a girl’s school connected to my family.”
Mr. Bennet studied him. He then nodded and smiled. “She must have been delighted by the suggestion.”
“She was. But she feared it was impossible. When I inquired why, she went so far to confess to me that she could not take it, as she was illegitimate,” Darcy replied dryly.
“But that is not a sound reason.” Mr. Bennet laughed. “It has nothing to do with the matter. I hope you told her so much.”
“I did,” Darcy replied. “She insisted that she would never enter an advantageous position if all persons involved were not aware of the matter of her birth. I respected her enormously for that sort of integrity, even though I thought it perhaps a little...”
“That is very like Lizzy. Poor girl. I wish I had knownthatis what she imagined all these years. I still cannot determine if I should have told her more of the true situation or not.”
“I think the chief point is that you gave the matter a great deal of thought, and that your choices were reasonable.”
“It is always like that.” Mr. Bennet replied, “With any child. You never know what will hurt them in ten years or be to their benefit. After many years of sleepless nights, I gave up seeking to shape their personality as a bad business.”
“Did you have—” Darcy paused. Even asking the question might be rather impertinent. However, he wished to know, and if Mr. Bennet was offended, it would only make him think less of the gentleman. “Was there a scheme in your mind for Elizabeth’s future if there proved to be substantial difficulties in her claiming her fortune?”
Mr. Bennet glanced around, looking to see if anyone sat close enough to hear them. Then he smiled. “I must first bind you to a not particularly solemn oath of secrecy.”
“I do not know if I approve of secrets.”
“I love them,” Mr. Bennet replied. “About half a year after Elizabeth came to us, when I had come to consider her properly as a daughter, I started setting something aside, just in case. At first, I only wished to ensure there would be the funds in the case of an expensive process of litigation, but I kept on afterwards. I began with small economies—resisting the urge to buy an early folio of Shakespeare, or only subscribing to two or three periodicals, instead of ten. Only keeping three manservants instead of five. Ensuring that the horses were available more often for the farm. The dear price of wheat also brought rents up substantially, and I did not increase our mode of living. There are more than five thousand pounds set aside that Mrs. Bennet knows nothing about. I intended that if Elizabeth’s fortune could not be recovered, that she would receive a substantial portion of that to live on—though it would be nothing to what she ought to have had. And if it was not needed for her, I would add it to the dowries of the other daughters. Which I shall announce that I have done, as soon as any appropriate fellow appears for Lydia or Kitty.”
This secret took Darcy greatly by surprise. “I confess that I approve of your prudence. Though I do not think I would ever hide such a thing from my wife.”
