by Kara Louise
*~*~*
For the next few days, as inclement weather kept us indoors, I caught frequent snippets of conversation discussing either the sweet Miss Bennet, her tolerable sister, the younger sisters who were not worth talking to, or their intolerable mother. I was more than eager to distance myself from such disheartening discussion and looked forward to a change in the weather to allow my master and me the opportunity to walk about the grounds.
Now I must insert here that when we are in London, I am forced to be leashed on the streets and my master sets the pace and direction. In the country, however, I am free to choose the direction and my master considerately obliges me by following.
It is not difficult to speculate, then, that the few walks my master and I had enjoyed at Netherfield usually began in the direction of the stables. I admit I was hoping that my master would see fit to allow Sadie to join us. The first few days after we had arrived, my master was not quite convinced that would be a prudent idea and would not allow it. But, on a day that dawned bright and clear, he finally acquiesced.
The stablehand assured my master that she had learned her commands quite well and keenly obeyed. He had been prompting her on her hunting skills in anticipation of an upcoming day of sport for the gentlemen. He did not believe she would run off, except perhaps to chase after some game. However, he assured my master that should she run off, he was quite sure she would promptly return.
Sadie eagerly came out of the pen when it was opened; evidently, she needed to release some of her pent up energy and had to be called down for her behaviour. The stablehand commanded her to “sit” and she obediently sat down, wagging her tail ferociously, impatiently awaiting the command that would allow her the freedom to get back up on her feet. I found her liveliness most endearing.
When we finally commenced our walk, it was pleasing to find she generally remained by my side. She occasionally scampered into some bush because her ears picked up a sound or her nose caught a scent, but she would just as quickly return. How I remembered when I had such liveliness and curiosity! Now I was content to walk along the path and simply enjoy exploring what was before me.
When we returned after that first walk with Sadie, my master praised her for obeying his commands and informed the stablehand that she behaved admirably. I felt a great deal of pride swelling up inside, knowing that Sadie had proven herself well mannered and amiable to my fastidious master.
I was grateful that my master seemed to easily return to his self again after that evening spent at the assembly. But just when I thought it was all behind us, Bingley announced more pleasant news; that is… pleasant to him, rather disagreeable to the others.
“We have received another invitation!” Bingley exclaimed. “It is a gathering at Lucas Lodge. What great enjoyment that will be!”
As I watched my master’s sombre response to Bingley’s ecstatic announcement, I recollected how, over the past few years, I witnessed my master go through grief over the loss of his father, anger over the actions of Wickham, and regret and great concern for the welfare of his sister. In the midst of all those times I found that I was always able to give him some sort of comfort. But we had now come to this small country village in Hertfordshire and I was witnessing something in him that I had never witnessed before. I found myself at a loss to know how to handle it. And little did I know how it would change his life completely.
Chapter 11
Since settling at Netherfield, the gentlemen did eagerly await a fine morning to dawn that promised them an excellent day for hunting. I anticipated my first opportunity to exhibit my skills to Sadie and hoped that she would prove herself dutiful to all she had learnt. The perfect morning finally dawned -- it was the day after receiving the invitation to Lucas Lodge.
The air was still, but for an occasional breeze that captured and freed a smattering of leaves still lightly clinging to their branches, sending them gaily down to join the others on the ground. I enjoyed the sound and feel of the leaves being trampled beneath my paws as we walked toward the stables. As I looked ahead to a day spent hunting with Sadie, a sense of excitement augmented my vitality beyond what I thought was within me.
With unsurpassed eagerness, we set out, and Sadie was released from her pen. We all held out fervent hopes for an exceptional day. Whilst the ducks, geese, and game birds were not particularly plentiful, Sadie and I proved ourselves most proficient as we were able to sniff some out from around the several ponds that dotted Netherfield.
Sadie remained close by my side, and as a team, we obliged the gentlemen in flushing out a variety of game birds which were easily downed. My master, the ever excellent marksman, out shot Bingley and Hurst in bringing down four, whereas the other two gentlemen captured only three between them.
An excellent day of hunting soon came to an end. It was most rewarding to have teamed up with Sadie, who proved herself so proficient. Bingley blamed his poor aim on a certain “angel;” this lady he referred to as Miss Bennet, who occupied his thoughts, rather than anything Sadie may have done poorly. My master appeared to improve in his hunting skills with each year and I must confess I felt that this particular time out on the grounds I felt a youth and vigour I had not experienced in quite a long time.
As we all turned back to Netherfield, we passed the stables and I grudgingly watched as Sadie was returned to her pen. Whilst she exhibited no discontent in her accommodations, I greatly wished that we had more opportunity together. I thoroughly enjoyed my day and felt a great sense of admiration for my new young friend.
We walked around the manor to enter through the back, as the men’s boots -- and my feet -- were more than a little muddy. As we passed through the courtyard, we noticed a carriage parked in front and an animated exclamation came forth from Bingley.
“It seems that we have visitors!” He turned to the two men who exhibited neither the enthusiasm nor the pleasure that their friend did from this intelligence. “Let us inquire who it is!”
When we entered through the rear entrance into the kitchen area, Bingley was met by his housekeeper who informed him that the Bennet ladies from Longbourn had called and were now in the sitting room with his sisters. A jovial cheer came forth from Bingley as he immediately prepared to join them whilst Hurst muffled a groan as he quickly made his own escape.
My master abruptly stopped his friend. “Bingley, should you not clean up before presenting yourself to your guests?”
“I am not wholly unpresentable, am I?” asked Bingley, hoping his friend would not believe him to be.
“Bingley, your boots are caked in mud! You cannot walk through the house, neither can you present yourself to the ladies with your boots in such a state.”
“Then I shall remove them!” Bingley cried out with puppy-like enthusiasm.
“And walk into the room in stockinged feet?” My master’s voice raised in frustration. “You must give more deliberation, Bingley, to your conduct as Master of Netherfield.”
I could see the battle waging within Bingley; his desire to rush out and greet these ladies -- or perhaps just one in particular -- fighting against his desire to comply with his good friend’s sense and instruction.
“Certainly, Darcy. You are quite right.” He turned to one of the servants standing by the door. “Fetch me another pair of boots, quickly! Please!”
Bingley sat down and quickly began removing his mud encrusted boots and my master did the same at his leisure. One of the servants attended my paws and removed all traces of mud. I finished the task with a few good lickings.
Both men were provided with a clean pair of boots and Bingley had two servants assist him in getting them on promptly. My master, although not giving any indication of hurrying, was shod just as quickly.
Bingley stood up and looked to my master with a grin, “Come, Darcy, they shall be happy to see us now!”
My master shook his head. “I would rather not, Bingley.”
Bingley placed his hand congenially on my master’s shou
lder and began leading him out. “For just a few moments, Darcy. Just to say hello.”
I eagerly followed the two men, anxious to make the acquaintance of these Bennet ladies, particularly two of them, for the first time.
As we approached the door, a rather loud, high pitched voice came from someone inside, “We are so delighted you have taken Netherfield! We could not have asked for finer neighbours!”
As I peeked in, I watched as the two sisters exchanged a conspiratorial look toward one another as they responded with the barest hint of civility before we were noticed at the door.
“Oh, Charles, please come join us!” Caroline pleaded.
Bingley beamed in perfect agreement to such an invitation, seemingly forgetting my master and me. To my surprise, I perceived my master tense beside me, but his and Bingley’s opposing actions were soon forgotten by me as I suddenly discerned a very familiar scent. As I gazed about the room, seeking to identify the source of that scent, I realized it was coming from one of the young ladies. I also realized at that same moment, that both the scent and the lady were one and the same with the young lady we had seen skipping down the hill.
As Bingley bounded in the room, the occupants stood and curtsied with alacrity, a smile on each face; the relief at the additional company obvious. But it did not escape my notice that not everyone was pleased by all the additions, as the lady whose scent I recognized earlier turned her head further and observed my master still standing steadfastly at the door. She raised an eyebrow archly and gave him a glare that was quite imposing.
Miss Bingley quickly made polite introductions, although I am quite sure, based on the easy amiability with which he addressed our visitors, her brother was already well acquainted with each of the ladies in the party. I, however, was grateful for the introduction and took particular note of the “angel” Miss Bennet and her sister, Miss Elizabeth, the one with the memorable scent.
Whilst indiscernible to the others, I saw a clenching of my master’s jaw just before turning and walking away. I knew, from all my years as his faithful and loyal companion, that at the moment, he was not particularly inclined to be congenial.
It disheartened me to witness this poor display of manners on my master’s part, especially when I was particularly inclined to know more of this Miss Elizabeth. Her refreshingly floral scent took me back to a more carefree time when my master and I would endlessly explore the grounds of Pemberley in the spring with all its flowers in bloom.
Instead of dutifully following him as I typically did, I made an exception and decided to enter the room. I watched as Bingley warmly greeted each lady and how his sisters bore up under his gracious and profuse words of welcome. I agreed with Bingley that Miss Bennet appeared very pretty and sweet. I admit that I could only but concur with my master that the other ladies seemed to exhibit a less refined manner, excepting, that is, Miss Elizabeth. And it was she in whom I was most interested.
Not wanting to attract attention to myself, being unsure how these guests would receive me, I slowly and quietly walked in, sitting down just out of everyone’s way. Miss Elizabeth was the first to take notice of me.
“Why, Mr. Bingley! What a beautiful dog! Come here, boy. What is his name?”
“Oh,” Bingley laughed. “He is not mine! He is Darcy’s! The man hardly ever goes anywhere without his faithful companion.” He looked back, expecting to see his friend behind him. Looking somewhat confused, he turned back to her and continued, “His name is Reggie.”
Seeing her accepting countenance, I delightedly walked up to Miss Elizabeth and sat down before her. She leaned forward and patted the top of my head, whispering, “It seems I recall having seen you before, Reggie.” I eagerly wagged my tail and bestowed upon her my most amiable manners. Seeing my well pleased response, she then scratched me about my ears. I looked up at her and saw that same sparkle in her eyes that I recollected from the first time I saw her.
Whilst everyone else’s attention was on Bingley and his generous words of appreciation for their visit, Elizabeth leaned down and asked, “Will you give me your paw?”
I happily obliged and she took it in a firm, but gentle grasp.
Then she knelt down even more and whispered so no one would hear, “Well, Reggie, this is a pleasant surprise. How is it that you exhibit the most impeccable manners whilst, I am sad to say, your master, does not?”
My eyes widened at this. It was quite apparent that she did not esteem my master and I was quite of the opinion she had overheard herself deemed merely tolerable by my master at the assembly as Bingley had inferred.
No one else seemed to pay me any mind and considering Miss Elizabeth’s warm friendliness, coupled with my instinct to discern character, I attributed her as being a most affable young lady. I felt for the first time in my life that my master and I held a very differing estimation of her. It was impossible for me to view Miss Elizabeth as anything but pleasant, agreeable, and, I might add, very pretty indeed!
I remained by her side, contented with her attentions to the top of my head, behind my ears, and an occasional stroke down my back, enjoying the feel of her gentle fingers occasionally twirling around my curly fur. I gazed up at her and she returned my gaze with a pleasant smile and those dark, sparkling eyes.
I suddenly became aware of a presence behind us; my master’s scent was so strong that I knew he had returned. I turned my head towards him and began eagerly wagging my tail so that it was thudding heavily against the floor. I did this for the twofold purpose of allowing him to ascertain my cordial feelings for Miss Elizabeth as well as hoping to assuage his disappointment in me for venturing in here on my own accord. Miss Elizabeth noticed that my attention had been drawn away and looked up, her face still reflecting the joy from our encounter.
When my master saw Miss Elizabeth’s bright face, he appeared unable to move as his attention was completely riveted upon her, and most likely would have remained permanently planted in that spot had it not been for Bingley distracting him by calling out and inviting him to enter.
His response was somewhat stilted, as he tore his eyes away from my new friend. “I… uh… no… I beg your pardon… I was merely looking for Reggie.” He looked over at Miss Elizabeth and quite clumsily offered a most needless apology. “I… uh… please accept my apologies. Forgive me if he has been a nuisance.”
“On the contrary, he is quite charming!” She looked down at me and smiled. I allowed my tail to thump a little faster to let her know I was smiling back at her on the inside.
“Come join us, Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed.
“No, pray, Mr. Darcy, do not trouble yourself on our account,” protested Mrs. Bennet. “We have far exceeded our stay! We would not want to inconvenience you any longer.” She looked around her and I could see from her expression that she held the same sort of contempt for my master that Miss Elizabeth did. Curious indeed!
My master politely, but stoically, followed Bingley and the ladies outdoors when the Bennets took their leave. I stayed right at Miss Elizabeth’s feet and just before she stepped up into the carriage, she reached down and patted my head one last time with a twinkle in her eyes. I was quite charmed by her approbation, for Bingley’s sisters had never even acknowledged me since my arrival at Netherfield.
I turned back to stand aside my master and saw an odd expression on his face. That he was fighting something deep within was evident; his jaw tightened and his eyebrows were drawn down. I hoped that he was not angry with me for taking the liberty to join the ladies without his consent. He said nothing to me but turned to walk back into the house directly.
Bingley lingered outside, keeping his eyes fixed on the carriage as it slowly pulled away until it was out of his sight. His sisters quickly returned to the house and as I followed, their critical assessment of the Bennet ladies did not escape my notice. Whereas they were pleased with Miss Bennet’s manners, they were most displeased with the remainder of the Bennet family.
Later that evening, a
s we gathered after supper in the sitting room, Bingley continued his praise of Miss Bennet, which his sisters bore with surreptitious words and looks of disparagement passing between them. My master stalwartly adhered to a book he was reading, refusing to be drawn into the conversation. I wondered, however, if the book was not to his liking, as he did not turn the pages as frequently as he normally did.
Once we had retired for the night, he said to me, “So, you have made a friend of Miss Elizabeth, have you?” His voice seemed almost censuring. “It appears that she holds you in high regard.”
These were the first words he had spoken of Miss Elizabeth all day. I had been encouraged that he had not joined Bingley’s sisters in their assailing of her, as she was often the object of much derisive comments. But it seemed my encouragement was to be short-lived, for not one moment had passed in the privacy of our chambers before he seemed intent to shake something off himself (as I often must do when I am provoked by some unsolicited flying creature that assaults my ears) and he steadfastly declared, “Miss Elizabeth may have garnered your favour, Reggie, however in my estimation, she barely has an attractive feature on her face; she has more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, and her manners may be acceptable in the country, but are simply not those of the fashionable world.”
How I wished (not for the first time) for the gift of speech to be able to assure him that her manners had been most pleasing towards me and I thought her to be without fault. If I could, I would enlighten him that she had been the one we had seen cheerfully skipping down the hill. But on the other hand, I meditated on the saddening thought that it might be best that he not be aware of this intelligence. Considering his censure of her that day, coupled with his disapprobation of her of late, it would most likely not put her in any better light.