Darcy gave Bingley a meaningful look. Bingley had not found the time to speak with Caroline, but he knew he could not put the unpleasant task off any longer.
Chapter3
The next morning, Elizabeth rose with the sun, as was her wont. She did not care that she retired later than normal; she was unwilling to forgo her walk to Oakham Mount and back, a five-mile round trip.
After donning a walking dress, she tied her half boots. She and Jane used to share a bedchamber, but when Elizabeth was ten and Jane twelve, Jane claimed she had a hard time sleeping, as according to Jane, Lizzy moved too much in her sleep.
To Elizabeth it had seemed fair at the time that Jane should not have to move out of the large bedchamber, although she sorely missed sleeping in the same bed with her older sister. Jane had assured her she missed her too but hoped they would both sleep better with the new arrangement.
Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, Jane had lied; it was Jane who had her mother act, and it had nothing to do with not sleeping. The reason Jane urged her mother to make the change was because it was the first time she felt envious of her younger sister as Lizzy had become more popular among the neighbourhood children.
On her way through the kitchen Cook handed Miss Lizzy an apple and a warm muffin, tied into a napkin. Mrs. Bennet would have put a stop to the practice had she known of it, but neither Mrs. Bennet nor Jane rose early in the morning. Luckily for Elizabeth, Jane never asked her about her morning routine, so their mother remained ignorant of it.
Once she exited the gate in the low stone wall which denoted the end of the kitchen garden, Elizabeth started to walk faster. Someone not used to her pace would need to run to keep up with her.
Darcy was an early riser, as well. He sat atop Zeus on the Netherfield Park side of a common border fence with Longbourn. “Magnificent,” he said aloud. It was only the second time he had seen Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but he was intrigued by her.
He had taken the measure of the eldest Bennet sister already. Not only had she looked at him like a side of venison, but he had not missed the look of pleasure she tried to hide after his misguided slight of her sister.
Darcy knew he would have to protect Bingley because he was certain Bingley, unlike himself, would not have the fortitude to resist a compromise. Some five years previously, before his honoured father died of a weak heart, Robert Darcy had required his son to vow that he would never compromise a lady and would never reward a huntress with his hand if she were to engineer a compromise of him.
His father had been compromised by Lady Anne Fitzwilliam. Her father, the previous Earl of Matlock, brought an inordinate amount of pressure to bear on Robert Darcy who eventually gave in, and proposed. The fact that Lady Anne was acting on the advice of her older sister—Lady Catherine de Bourgh—did not lessen the blow for his father, who had wanted to marry for love.
By the time he was born, his parents had learnt to tolerate one another but they never had a loving or happy union. Like her older sister, Lady Anne was insistent on maintaining the distinction of rank.
The relationship between Robert Darcy and the Matlock heir, Reginald Fitzwilliam, Lord Hilldale, had always been friendly. Lord Hilldale had regretted his younger sister following the wrongheaded advice of their older sister.
The Darcys rarely visited Rosings Park, but there were many visits between Pemberley and Snowhaven, the main Matlock estate, after Reggie became the Earl on his father’s demise. Now the relationship between the Fitzwilliams and Darcys was as close as could be.
When his Aunt Catherine had given birth to her one and only child, a daughter named Anne for her Aunt Darcy, the sisters decided they would betroth Fitzwilliam Darcy, who was three at the time, and called William by all save his mother and Aunt Catherine, to his cousin Anne de Bourgh.
The sisters had no authority to contract a betrothal; Sir Lewis on the de Bourgh side, and Robert Darcy, on the Darcy side both refused to oblige their wives. Robert Darcy had taken it further; his will codified that no betrothal agreement existed between his son and Anne de Bourgh. Right after Lady Anne Darcy passed away, Lady Catherine renewed her demands and claimed the existence of a betrothal. It existed only in that lady’s demented mind.
When Anne de Bourgh was ten, she contracted scarlet fever. She suffered a rather virulent strain of the disease, leaving both her heart and lungs damaged. Apparently, it had also damaged her reproductive system.
Her mother did her best to hide the fact, but Anne never started her courses. In Sir Lewis' will, Anne was left the entire de Bourgh fortune, including Rosings Park and de Bourgh House on Portman Square in London. The estate would become hers when she reached the age of three and twenty. If she reached the age of eight and twenty, or died unmarried, everything was willed to Richard Fitzwilliam. It was well known within the family that Lady Catherine pushed for the non-existent betrothal as she believed Darcy would take Anne to Pemberley and leave her to run Rosings Park.
Due to the vow he made to his father, he would never reward a lady with his hand if she compromised him; he would marry for love. Darcy was not looking forward to the afternoon. After the midday meal, Bingley was to talk to Caroline; he requested Darcy’s presence so he could verify his words when, invariably, Miss Bingley would denyherMr. Darcy had stated any such thing.
Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth until she disappeared from view as she entered a forested area. He wheeled Zeus and, giving the stallion his head, he galloped part of the way back to the stables.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Even the morning chill of the late September day did not dampen the feeling of peace Elizabeth felt as she sat on a big rock on the flattened summit of Oakham Mount. It was not a mountain, merely the tallest hill in an otherwise flat expanse of land.
Elizabeth sat facing east while she munched on the still-warm muffin. There was no equal to the feeling that all was right with the world when she sat on the rock and watched the sunrise.
As the sun rose above the horizon some of the clouds turned gold. Other clouds were bright white in the reflected light of the sun’s rays. It seemed as if beams of lights were being sent down into the world to wake it from its nightly slumber.
Elizabeth had never seen the sea, only some illustrations of it in books her father allowed her to read. Seeing the actual sea with her own eyes was something she desired very much; in her mind’s eye she imagined the glorious picture it would make as the sun rose and set over the vast expanse of water.
Sitting on her rock, she contemplated why it was her father was unwilling or unable to exert himself in his household. How many times had he told her how he disliked her mother’s treatment of her? That being said, he had never stepped in to correct the situation. Why was he not in command of his own household?
What hurt the most was that her father seemed incapable, unwilling, or both, to assist his avowed favourite daughter. Elizabeth would have preferred to be ignored like Mary and Kitty were, rather than be the one her mother blamed for any ill suffered by the Bennets.
When Elizabeth and Jane were in London with the Gardiners three years ago, a suitor Jane had attracted withdrew; in her mother’s narrow mind, somehow Elizabeth’s impertinence and hoydenish ways had frightened off Jane’s admirer.
Elizabeth thanked God every day that her Uncle and Aunt Gardiner were in her life. They were, in her mind, her true parents. If it were not for the love and support she received from the Gardiners, Elizabeth knew her mother would have broken her spirit years ago.
