Mr Darcy approached, “Yes Aunt, this is Miss Jane Bennet.”
Jane dropped to an elegant curtsy and introductions were made around the room.
Lady Catherine studied the young lady from the top of her hair to her shoes, then harrumphed, “Yes Miss Bennet you are very pretty, a lot more than your younger sister Miss Elizabeth.”
Jane blanched but Elizabeth laughed, “Yes my lady, my mother never allowed me to forget that minor detail.”
“Well, your mother has some wisdom then. I was told that she is of a rather nervous disposition.”
“Were you? Well I suppose if you had five unmarried daughters and an estate entailed away from the female line, you might be a little anxious as well,” Elizabeth replied in her mother’s defence.
Even as she spoke she was sensible of her own surprise; for she had long been disposed to laugh at her mother’s nerves. Yet when considered with proper seriousness, she could not deny that there was indeed abundant cause for such anxieties.
“Upon my word,” said her ladyship, “you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person. Pray what is your age, Miss Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth laughed and considered not answering the lady but even she realised how rude that would be, “I will be one and twenty in June your ladyship.”
“Yes, as I presumed you are very young, but fortunately not at all beyond hope yet.”
“I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth looked at the lady dismayed.
“Yes, I believe I shall endeavour to improve you Miss Elizabeth. Let that be my present to your mother; and in time to your husband, when at last you discover the gentleman who will relieve your parents of so spirited a charge.”
Darcy snapped his head up and glared at his aunt.
Elizabeth laughed again, a little nervous this time, “How do you propose to improve me, my lady?”
“You will meet me in my private sitting-room tomorrow at three o’clock and we shall have an afternoon of instructions that will result in an overall refinement to every aspect of your life.” Lady Catherine said leaving Elizabeth no room for refusal.
Colonel Fitzwilliam had until now been most uncharacteristically silent; his attention wandering more often than not toward the eldest Miss Bennet and her most devoted admirer. At his aunt pronunciation, he laughed outright, “And are you sufficiently brave for such an undertaking Miss Elizabeth? Should you require reinforcement I could summon half a dozen of my fellow officers, all prepared to stand gallantly to your defence.”
“You will remain silent, Richard. Your opinion and your wit are neither welcomed nor required.” Lady Catherine glowered at her nephew which made the Colonel laugh harder.
Elizabeth laughed lightly, yet beneath the mirth laid a touch of distress.How have I been so grievously unfortunate,she thought,as to draw upon myself Lady Catherine’s scrutiny, and her pity; to persuade her that I am in need of improvement?
At that moment the gong announcing dinner sounded and the group removed themselves to the dining room, with Bingley offering Jane his arm, scarcely letting her go for the rest of the evening.
***
The following day, as the afternoon wore on the more nervous Elizabeth became, anticipating her ‘improvement’ session with Lady Catherine. To force herself into a measure of ease she went for a long walk, while to avoid Mr Darcy she kept to narrow tracks with low branches, where he would not be able to fit his enormous, black stallion.
The day was beautiful and Elizabeth got lost in its beauty; the spring day at Rosing's had drawn her into its softer shades, where the light fell tenderly upon the budding hedgerows and the air was sweet with damp earth. She had wandered farther than prudence advised, delighting in the solitude before she had to return and face her hostess, when a sharp cry pierced the quiet afternoon.
It was neither the cry of a bird nor the startled rustle of a hare, but the unmistakable distress of a child.
Elizabeth hastened toward the sound and soon came upon a most alarming scene: a boy of perhaps eight years stood pale and trembling beside a fallen mongrel, whose flank bore the angry mark of a stag’s antler. Not twenty yards distant the deer itself, startled, magnificent, and indignant; bounded away through the trees.
“Oh! Pray do not be frightened,” Elizabeth called gently, approaching with careful steps. “The creature has fled.”
The boy, though striving for composure could not prevent the tears that brimmed in his wide grey eyes. “He only meant to chase it miss,” he said, gesturing to the dog. “Ted would not have harmed it. I am certain he would not.”
Elizabeth knelt at once with no regard for her muslin skirts. The dog’s breathing was laboured but steady; the wound thoughbloody did not appear mortal. With a steadiness that surprised even herself, she tore a strip from her petticoat hem and bound the injury as neatly as any village nurse would do.
“You are very brave,” she assured the boy, “and so is Ted. But bravery must sometimes yield to sense.”
He gazed at her as though she were a woodland apparition. “You speak like a lady in a book,” he said with earnest admiration. “Are you... are you a princess?”
Elizabeth laughed, “Alas, no! I am only a traveller who has lost her way and found better company than she expected.”
