It was a large party that rode out from Netherfield. Luckily for their guests who did not bring their own mounts, Netherfield’s stables had more than enough horses and ponies available for everyone.
Even though there were several men in the party, there was still a full complement of escorts with them, especially as the Prince was one of their number. The guards did not know they were protecting a Princess as well, but that would not have changed their vigilance, which was always high.
The party made their way to Oakham Mount, which was just past the north-western border of Longbourn. Once they crossed from Netherfield Park’s fields to those of Longbourn, those who were comfortable galloping gave their horses their heads. Although Tommy would have loved to gallop his pony, he knew he was not allowed above a canter, so he and the rest of the children on ponies brought up the rear.
When they arrived at the base of Oakham Mount—in reality a hill—everyone dismounted, and the party made their way on foot up to the flattened summit of the Mount. From the top, there was a clear view of the area. Bennet acted as guide and pointed out Netherfield Park to the east, Longbourn below them, and Purvis Lodge in between the two. It was easy to see Lucas Lodge, as it was the estate between Longbourn and the market town of Meryton.
“Lizzy, the habit the Darcys gifted you looks very well on you,” Jane stated as the group of older girls stood under the big oak on the summit.
“Thank you, Janie,” Elizabeth responded, “it fits me just so.”
“Do you know that when I used to live with my mother she would not allow me to learn to ride, or learn anything else for that matter,” Anne told her friends.
“Was your mother really that bad, Anne?” Charlotte asked.
“Worse!” Anne stated emphatically. “Until Uncle Reggie and Aunt Elaine took me into their household, I was not living, only existing.”
“If it were not too unladylike, I would kick her shins like…” Elizabeth went quiet with embarrassment as she recalled her actions from five years in the past.
“Like when you kicked William?” Anne smiled. Elizabeth nodded. “That and lessons in humility from Uncle and Aunt Darcy changed William much for the better. He was on his way to becoming more like my mother than his. Even so, I would not recommend walking around kicking everyone who offends you, but that day it was well deserved and delivered. You also had the excuse you were but five at the time.”
The group of girls giggled and talked among themselves while the three boys climbed into the branches of the oak tree. Biggs and Johns were the only men from the group of escorts who walked up with the family, and they stood beneath the tree, ready in case one of the boys missed his footing and fell.
“It is a nice view, Bennet,” Lord Matlock allowed, “but I prefer the wilds of Derbyshire with the Peaks in the background.”
“It is not surprising that either you or Darcy over there,” Bennet inclined his head to where Robert Darcy was standing, “would favour Derbyshire over all other shires.”
“If it were only our home county,” Darcy stated, “that would be one thing, but even you must admit, Bennet, that there are few views that match the one from the lookout towards the Peaks at the end of the bridle path at Pemberley.”
“You are not incorrect,” Bennet conceded. “There are few vistas I have seen on this island of ours that rival that one.”
“You can see the Peaks from Snowhaven as well,” Lord Matlock defended.
“As you can from Holder Heights,” Holder added. “However, I will not deny you do not see a view of the Peaks as spectacular as the one from Pemberley from my estate—or yours for that matter, Matlock.” Lord Matlock admitted the truth of Holder’s statement.
Once the debate about views in their home shires was completed, and the monkeys had descended from the tree, the party made their way back down the hill to where the horses were being minded by their escorts. Mindful of their mounts, there was no galloping on the return ride to Netherfield Park.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Lady Catherine de Bourgh felt the diminution of her power most keenly. The servants were no longer afraid of her, and if she was rude to them they simply ignored her. In her mind, she had excoriated her brother for imposing these limits on her, and on her late husband for not changing his will as she had demanded many times over.
She heard little snippets about how her family, both the Fitzwilliams and Darcys, had become a close connection of Prince Frederick. Lady Catherine could only imagine how her status would have been enhanced had she been allowed into the royal’s company, but she had not seen any of her family since the infamous day Reggie had removed Anne from her authority.
Her brother had even removed her right to appoint a new clergyman to the living at Hunsford if it became vacant. The incumbent had always bent to her will, until the great day of change had occurred. She used to go so far as to write the man’s sermons for him and had them often include a lesson about the importance of maintaining the distinction of rank.
Much to her annoyance, the Earl of Matlock had made sure the man understood Lady Catherine had no authority over him, and if he should ever allow her to write another sermon or shared with her what was told to him in confidence by his parishioners, the Earl would report him to the Bishop of Kent and have him defrocked.
The man used to bow and scrape before her, but this too was a thing five years past. She once attempted to deliver a sermon to the man, and then attempted to provide, in her opinion, necessary added instruction on the running of his household, but that, like so many other things since that fateful day, had not gone as she expected.
The sermon she wrote was consigned to the fire without a glance, and the parson—her parson—had told her in no uncertain terms that she was not welcome in his house to direct the way it was run. When she tried to ask if the parishioners had told him anything of import, he told her that he would never discuss anything with her regarding his flock unless they specifically requested him to do so.
Her world truly had come crashing in on her. How could she, the exalted Lady Catherine de Bourgh, the daughter of anEarl, be treated thusly? She decided soon after that she would gain her revenge for the degradation she was suffering. She did not yet know how or when, but she swore that her day would come.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The Friday after Elizabeth’s birthday the Prince, the Darcys—minus Gigi, the Fitzwilliams, Gardiners, and Carringtons all departed for Town. “Why do we never go to London, Mama?” Elizabeth asked as she walked back into the house with her mother after farewelling their extended family.
“You know your father detests London, do you not, Lizzy?” Fanny reminded her daughter. In eight years, Elizabeth would be told why they could not go to London, but not now. Although it was not the whole truth, what Fanny told her—Priscilla’s—daughter was at least half of the truth and not an outright lie.
