Master of Netherfield

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Master of Netherfield Page 5

by Martin Hunnicutt


  But then he noticed a young woman – a girl really – standing on a large log along the pathway with a homemade bow and arrow – the arrow a mere shaft of wood that might startle Jupiter if fired across his path but certainly nothing that could harm the horse or his rider.

  “See here now!” William called in a gruff voice. “Is this Robin Hood?”

  “Are you daft?” called the outlaw with the flimsy bow and arrow. “Can you not see that I am a girl? I am Maid Marion!”

  “Forgive me Maid Marion. I am caught off guard,” he said as he doffed his hat and bowed his head from the back of his horse. “And who am I?”

  The girl lowered the arrow slightly while she looked him over closely and replied, “You are either King Richard or the Sheriff of Nottingham.”

  Darcy grinned. “I am neither a king nor sheriff. But my cousin is Richard.”

  “King Richard’s cousin!” she declared. “I shall have your purse in any case sir. I must rob from the rich to give to the poor.”

  “How do you know that I am rich?” he asked.

  The girl frowned but answered, “Everyone thinks that girls are stupid but I believe you are rich sir. I see your fine steed, nice clothes, good boots and hat – you are rich as a lord in town!”

  “Nonetheless, if you insist on stealing my purse, I shall have to tell your father and your governess will certainly thrash you!”

  Lowering the homemade bow, the girl laughed, “Then it is good that you do not know who I am, sir!” She turned, dodged into the undergrowth and disappeared. The tall man grinned and shook his head once before flicking the reigns and continuing toward the tenant farm.

  Watching from the woods, Elizabeth wondered, “King Richard’s Cousin riding through Sherwood Forest – I have never heard that story. Shall I spin a tale for my sisters? He was very polite. Perhaps not all gentlemen are kind like Papa but some must be nice...”

  Making her way through the woods of Netherfield Park, Elizabeth left her homemade bow and arrows under a particular tree that she frequently climbed when she was younger. About her, the sunlight was dappled as it filtered through the thick canopy leaving bright spots and dark shadows in the woods. The brilliant green of the leaves was lovely and beckoned her to climb the familiar branches but this day she glanced out of the woods, across the pastures and fields to see the distant grove of trees that marked home. She imagined she could see smoke rising from the chimney from the kitchen where Mrs. Hill and cook laboured to prepare supper. In her mind’s eye she saw her mother sewing with her sisters and her father grinning as he read a favourite passage in one of his books.

  Elizabeth found she did not wish to climb the tree or wander through the woods any longer this afternoon. Scrambling over the stone fence, she stepped down onto Longbourn’s lands. Her hands clasped together behind her, she purposely walked among the cows from her mother’s dairy as she made her way home, remembering the man on the horse and his smile.

  Arriving at Longbourn, Elizabeth made her way through the kitchens where cook was finishing the tea tray and Mrs. Hill caught Elizabeth’s eye. Taking the girl in hand, the housekeeper took a wet cloth and wiped the dirt from her face. “Miss Elizabeth, clean your hands. Mrs. Bennet will notice the tear in your gown for certain but if your face and hands are clean, she’ll not know you’ve been in the woods again.”

  “Thank you, Hill,” Elizabeth said. Once her hands were clean, she returned the cloth to the housekeeper who inspected her appearance once again.

  “Now, go into the parlour and be seated. We shall bring the tea shortly and Mrs. Bennet will be pleased to find you there waiting.”

  “Yes, Hill.” Elizabeth left the kitchens quietly as the housekeeper and cook shared glances.

  “Miss Lizzy’ll grow up some day,” the cook said.

  “Sooner than we can imagine,” Hill replied thinking of her own three children who were all in service or apprenticed now.

  **++**

  During the tea, Mr. Bennet noticed that his second daughter seemed preoccupied so he took her with him to his library afterwards.

  “Are you out-of-sorts today, Lizzy?”

  The fourteen-year-old sighed, something that Mr. Bennet found happened quite frequently with daughters caught between the nursery with the children and the parlour with the adults. With Jane, he had only to provide her with some of his time to talk about horses and provide a hug or a new ribbon hidden in his pocket to chase away her sighs but Elizabeth was a different child – a different young woman.

  “I have just the thing to cheer you daughter – a new book,” he said handing her a new book of poetry. “Should you like to read it first and then tell me about it?”

  Her face bright and decorated with a grin as well as sparkling eyes, Elizabeth Bennet replied, “Yes, Papa. Thank you!”

  **++**

  Chapter 7

  Elizabeth and Her Father

  Immediately following tea the next day, Mrs. Bennet insisted that Elizabeth accompany her into her father’s library. “Mr. Bennet, I insist that you speak to your daughter! She has been into the woods and torn the hem in her gown. I shall dress her in a gown like the girls on the farms wear if she keeps running about in the fields and woods!”

  “But Mamma, I have such a good time – each day is an adventure this summer.”

  “Lizzy, girls to not have adventures!” declared Mrs. Bennet.

  “Why not?”

  “I am not understanding your question,” Mrs. Bennet replied.

  “Why do girls not have adventures?” asked Elizabeth in her most serious tone.

  “Girls learn to be ladies,” Mrs. Bennet explained to her daughter. “Boys run off to climb trees and throw rocks but girls do not have adventures.”

  Glancing at her father, Elizabeth asked, “But my Aunt Phillips had an adventure this spring. You said so yourself.”

  Mr. Bennet laughed aloud while Mrs. Bennet’s face grew stormy.

  “Elizabeth has asked an appropriate question my dear,” Mr. Bennet reminded his wife gently. “Mrs. Phillips had a visit to London but then Mr. Phillips welcomed her home.”

  Mrs. Bennet caught her husband’s eye and sighed. “My sister’s husband allowed her to visit a friend in town. It was nothing more.”

  Mr. Bennet inclined his head to accept the polite fiction the ladies of the neighbour shared to accept Mrs. Phillips back into their society after she had fled Meryton in the company of a young officer of the local militia and then returned to her husband only a few weeks later.

  “But young ladies who take adventures sometimes have unexpected visitors!” Mrs. Bennet declared and when Elizabeth’s face showed her confusion at her mother’s statement, Mr. Bennet sighed.

  “What your mother is trying to tell you Lizzy is that young ladies must remain with their parents or chaperones at all times.”

  Elizabeth suddenly understood her mother’s meaning and blushed. “Do you mean like the girl the farm on Netherfield last Christmas? Her mother and father were very angry with her for weeks until she married Mr. Thomas on our farm.”

  “Yes, Lizzy. And then she had a baby at Easter – she is only seventeen but now she has a house to clean, a baby to tend and a husband to care for,” her father reminded his daughter.

  “Mr. Bennet, you allow your daughter to hear entirely too much talk from your visitors!”

  “My dear Mrs. Bennet, all the news of Harriet Jones and her unexpected visitor came from Mrs. Lucas in your parlour over tea. You were the one who brought the girl’s plight to my attention and I secured Mr. Thomas as her suitor and husband. We had to allow the banns to be read for three Sundays before they could wed.”

  Mrs. Bennet blushed but nodded in agreement with her husband. The matter had been settled to everyone’s satisfaction she thought.

  “Now Elizabeth, your mother is correct in that you are tearing your gowns and bonnets frightfully for a girl of your age. I shall not deny you the woods but I do require you to diligently apply yo
urself to the needle.”

  He glanced at his wife who nodded and took her daughter by the hand, “Come dear. Jane and I shall teach you how to fix that gown.”

  **++**

  That evening at the supper table while they waited for the dessert to be served, Elizabeth asked, “Papa, in the different stories of Robin Hood, was there every any mention of a cousin of King Richards?”

  Mr. Bennet sat down his mug of ale and considered his daughter’s question. “I do not remember the mention of any cousins for the king. Just a brother who became King John.”

  “Mr. Bennet, will you not read to us tonight before the girls retire?”

  “Yes, please Papa,” asked Kitty, Mary and Lydia in succession.

  “I should like to hear you read Papa,” Jane commented and Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

  “Very well, my dears. Shall we enjoy the stories about Robin Hood or a story by Shakespeare...?”

  “Robin Hood!” all of his daughters exclaimed.

  **++**

  In the parlour, Mr. Bennet sat beside a table with a candelabra providing light from eight tapers as he read of the outlaw robbing from the rich to give to the poor. Mrs. Bennet contentedly continued with her sewing as did Jane and even Elizabeth while they listened to the story.

  Mary, Kitty and Lydia gathered around their father’s chair listening to him read.

  “What happens next, Papa?” asked Kitty as the clock was striking nine.

  Mr. Bennet closed the book and looked at his young daughter closely.

  “Would you really want to know Catherine?”

  Nodding carefully, the young girl knew her father was serious when he called her ‘Catherine’ instead of ‘Kitty’.

  “Yes, Papa, what happens next?”

  “Then tomorrow we shall read the story together in my library and you can read it to everyone tomorrow night.”

  Excited, the young girl turned to Lydia. “Papa will read with me tomorrow!”

  “But I want to learn to read too Papa!” Lydia exclaimed. “If Kitty...”

  “Lydia,” Mrs. Bennet called. “Come here dear.”

  Mr. Bennet was pleased that his wife was taking their youngest in hand – the baby would always remain special to his wife but she must not be allowed to grow up spoiled.

  “Now, off to bed with you,” Mr. Bennet told his daughters. “Allow your Mamma and I with a few moments of silence before bed.”

  Mrs. Bennet watched Jane and Elizabeth guide Kitty, Lydia and even Mary above stairs to undress and tumble into bed while her husband left for his library. He returned in a few minutes with a tray holding two thimbles of sherry and book.

  “I brought you a sherry, my dear.”

  “Thank you, Thomas. That was very kind,” Mrs. Bennet replied as she lay aside her sewing to take the class. Mr. Bennet returned to his chair beside the candles and said, “I thought you might enjoy a few of these poems.”

  Her face bright with pleasure, Mrs. Bennet resumed her sewing as she listened to her husband reading aloud.

  **++**

  “Lizzy, would you tell us one more story?” begged Mary.

  The nursery door opened and Jane slipped into the familiar room with her sisters.

  “May I join you?” she asked. “It is very lonely in my room.”

  “I wish I had a room by myself,” Mary sighed but she slid over as all of the sisters gathered on a single bed to hear Elizabeth spin the tale of King Richard’s cousin travelling through Sherwood Forest.

  Kitty asked, “Is the cousin as handsome as you say?”

  “I thought Maid Marion loved Robin Hood,” Jane observed.

  When Mr. and Mrs. Bennet retired about stairs, they found their daughters all in one bed, the two youngest asleep as the three older ones still talked. Mr. Bennet carefully moved Kitty and Lydia to their own bed while Mrs. Bennet tucked Mary into her bed and then allowed Jane to share Elizabeth’s bed. They extinguished the last candle in the nursery and closed the door leaving five sleepy heads safely tucked into bed for the evening.

  **++**

  Chapter 8

  A Meeting in Netherfield Wood

  With her father’s book of poems under one arm, Elizabeth walked across the pastures and fields, through the woods to a pleasant clearing where a downed tree provided a sunny seat. Her head in the shade, Elizabeth set about memorizing a poem to recite for her family after supper that evening. An hour passed quietly with the songs of many birds her only companions.

  “I believe I have found the outlaw in my woods again,” announced a deep voice from behind the girl.

  Elizabeth jumped from her seat on the log and the book fell to the ground. Turning around, she found herself faced with the big horse and his tall rider she had threatened with her bow and arrow only the week before.

  “King Richard’s cousin, you have returned!”

  “King Richard?” the man asked but then he smiled, remembering their last conversation. “Yes, Richard is my cousin. And you must be a sprite who lives among the trees?”

  “I...” Elizabeth began to say before she remembered her book. Quickly retrieving it from the ground, she moaned when she saw that a page had torn when the book fell to the ground.

  “What has happened, miss?” the man asked as he quickly dismounted and dropped the reigns to the ground before approaching the young girl. From her clothing he knew she was not the daughter of one of his tenants and certainly not a merchant’s daughter with a book in the woods. He took the book – a recent printing of poetry that he had hoped to obtain for his library.

  “And are you playing Robin Hood today?”

  “No, I was memorizing a verse to repeat for my family tonight.”

  “Your family?” he asked hopeful of learning her name.

  “May I have my book please? My father will be seriously displeased that I have torn a page.”

  With the torn page carefully returned to the proper shape and placed within the book, the gentleman returned the book to the young girl.

  “Perhaps I could explain to your father that I startled you and made you drop it. Then the blame may fall upon Jupiter and myself.”

  “Jupiter?”

  “My horse,” he explained, indicating his mount waiting patiently behind them.

  “Oh no, it is not the horse’s fault,” the girl assured him. “Horses are not to be blamed for a man’s faults.”

  “Very well, I shall shoulder all the blame,” the gentleman assured her.

  Looking about, the girl seemed to consider his words before she firmly shook her head, “I thank you sir, but I am not a child in need of protection from my actions.”

  The gentleman smiled as he asked, “Tell me miss; are there suitable locations for a picnic hereabouts? I need to arrange a birthday party for my sister and she enjoys picnics very much.”

  “Does the king’s cousin have a sister? Is she a princess?”

  “Certainly! She is a princess though she is only nine years.”

  “She is almost a baby,” the girl replied.

  “Much like yourself I dare say.”

  “I shall be fifteen years in September,” she said proudly.

  But then the man shook his head as though he were sorry for her and replied, “Ah, still in the nursery.”

  Displeased at the implication that she was just a child, the girl lifted her chin and replied, “Why should I wish to be out in society? Once girls come out, they can never have fun!”

  “No fun?’ the tall man asked. “Are you certain?”

  “I am certain! They must allow the gentleman to begin every conversation, allow him speak his mind without contradiction, dance with anyone who asks or not dance at all,” the girl said to dismiss the gentleman’s argument. “And I believe you must sit between two gentlemen at dinner and listen to their conversation.”

  The man laughed now. “I quite believe someone has been mistaken when they have given you instruction Miss...”

  However, the girl did not
introduce herself and she cast her gaze about nervously before saying, “Good day sir”.

  She slipped into the woods and the gentleman was surprised but called after her, “Maid Marion! Wait! King Richard’s cousin requires your assistance! Will you deny me your aide?”

  From in the forest, the girl’s voice called, “How can I aide you, sir?”

  The gentleman paused a moment only and then said, “My sister arrives in a fortnight. I should very much like for her to make her friends for I intend to keep her with me. And I should very much like for her to have a birthday party.”

  The girl reappeared between some trees and sighed while the man waited patiently. “There is a most pleasant meadow across the stream on the Longbourn side of the woods. You can have an excellent picnic there at any time this summer.”

  “Longbourn?” he asked carefully, anticipating a particular confession. He feared she would faint for a moment, she trembled so.

  But then she replied, “I am Elizabeth Bennet, sir. My father is Thomas Bennet, the master of Longbourn.”

  And then she curtseyed bravely with the same determined look in her eyes.

  “I am very pleased to meet you Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy, the master of Netherfield,” he said in introduction as he bowed. “Your father and mother have spoken of you with great pride.”

  Now she nodded. “Mr. Darcy, my parents spoke very well of you sir though my mother says that you were very quiet at dinner.”

  “But I listen well,” he said with a small smile that caused her to smile in return.

  “Sir, my mother plans the most wonderful picnics and parties. I am certain she will be glad to arrange a most agreeable party for your sister.”

  With that, the girl turned and ran through the woods while the gentleman mounted his horse and continued on his way through his woods.

  **++**

  Chapter 9

  Elizabeth in Mr. Bennet’s Library

 

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