by Jane Angwin
And then, the unthinkable happened. Fanny was once more with child, and she yelled and cried and threw things for nine long months. Thomas felt much to blame, as he never quite gave up hope for a son, but instead of soothing her and telling her it was going to be fine no matter if it was a boy or a girl, he hid in his library and vowed to never touch her again. To absolutely no one's surprise, the fifth and last child born to Fanny and Thomas Bennett was indeed another girl. This child was named Lydia, after Fanny's mother's great aunt. No one in the family particularly cared for the name, but Fanny claimed that this name would somehow bring the child great luck and fortune. She told everyone that her distant relative, Lady Lydia had been a great lady of nobility, married to a Marquess in some far off estate, but it was more likely an imaginary idea that she made up to pacify her fifth disappointment.
For some odd reason which was never quite understood, Fanny showered all of her attention on her youngest child. Everyone just assumed that she had finally totally lost her senses, since she talked incessantly about Lydia's superior intelligence and her imaginary accomplishments, rambling on to anyone who would listen about her exceptional daughter. She spoiled her with new toys and clothing, unlike the other girls who had been given nothing but hand-me-downs. It was quite clear to Thomas and the other children that Lydia was certainly not the most accomplished or intelligent of the five, but she was the most like Fanny in temperament, and if it pleased Fanny to obsessively focus on Lydia, and if it made her happy to finally dote on at least one of them, they were all content with that.
As Elizabeth grew older, Thomas saw the growing acrimony between her and his wife, and he often invited her into his library where he stayed most days. There he would talk to her about his favorite books, and they would have discussions about subjects quite unusual for a child to find interesting. He even taught her how to play chess, and they spent hours together in that little room, away from her mother and away from the world of ribbons and lace and overwrought nerves. She loved the out of doors, and her favorite pastime was playing in the garden and taking long walks with her father through the woods and fields of Longbourn, often visiting the tenants on his land. He hung a rope swing from a large tree next to his library where he could watch her as she swung back and forth for long periods of time, singing little songs to herself and talking to the birds. He had finally found a kindred spirit.
By this time, they had all become accustomed to Fanny's bouts of screeching and fluttering about, complaining about anything and everything, and they simply tried to ignore it. Poor saintly Mrs. Hill was the one who handled their mother's fits of nerves with the "magical elixir" and fresh muffins and tea, and the girls all handled the rest of the chores around the estate. Thomas Bennett certainly loved his girls, but he did not know how to take the place of a loving mother, so he stayed in his library with his beloved books and listened to the muffled din and cacophony through the closed door. It was a chaotic house, but having never known anything different, through the ensuing years, everyone made the best of it in their own way.
The day after Mr. Bennett's visit to Netherfield, Elizabeth rose earlier than the others, as usual. She got up and looked out her window to see if the weather would be cooperative for her to take a walk. As she did so, she saw noticed the swing that her father had hung just for her long ago when she was a child. She grabbed her book that she had not finished and made her way to the front door, grabbing her pelisse. "I will enjoy the peace and quiet outdoors for a short while until the others wake up," she thought. She walked around the side of the house to the large tree where the swing hung from two long pieces of rope. The rope had been replaced several times with all five of the girls using it through the years, but she still considered it her swing. It gave her a special feeling to sit and swing back and forth, dangling her feet while she read her book. This was her favorite place in the world, and this morning she almost felt as though there wasn't another soul in the whole world to break her serenity.
Just then, she heard her mother's loud voice telling Mrs. Hill that she needed her immediately to help her with the buttons on her frock. She also heard the cook banging pots in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. "Well, the peace and quiet was nice while it lasted," she laughed. She read for a little longer, but she was interrupted by the front door banging open, and her mother coming out on the porch, yelling for her to come inside "right this minute". She put her book down on the swing and left her special place, fully intending to return after breakfast.
The family began coming into the dining room, taking their usual chairs. Cook had made a beautiful loaf of warm bread, and the wooden board and a tub of butter made its way around the table. There was leftover ham from the night before, and a huge bowl of fluffy stirred eggs that Mr. Hill had brought in from the hen house the day before. Lizzy loved the breakfast meal most of all, since everyone was still rather groggy from sleep, and there wasn't usually a lot of conversation, however, this morning the breakfast table was alive with speculation about the new neighbor who was possibly purchasing Netherfield.
"I hear that he is a Baron with four carriages!" Lydia said.
"Well, I heard that he is the son of an Earl, looking for a wife!" Kitty added.
"And he has five thousand pounds a year!" Lydia remarked.
Fanny picked up her ever present fan and began fanning her face. "Oh, girls! I am certain that he will be a rich young man who has come to Meryton to find a bride. He will undoubtedly choose Jane, as she is the most beautiful of all of you, and then all of my worries will be over!" She fanned even faster. "Mr. Bennett, you must go there immediately and meet this gentleman. He must know about our Jane!"
Thomas peered over the top of his newspaper and took a sip of his coffee. "And why should I do this when this person is simply inspecting the property and may not decide to take it," he asked innocently.
"Oh, Mr. Bennett, you will surely be the death of me yet. If he knew about Jane, he would of course take the property. He simply must know about her today!"
"Mrs. Bennett, you do not know who this prospective person is, and you certainly do not know if he is looking for a marriage partner! You have heard only what Lydia and Kitty have heard from the gossips in Meryton." He glanced at Elizabeth and gave her a knowing smile, something that he often did when he was joking, and she could practically read his mind.
"Papa, you are hiding something and I think you should share it with us," Elizabeth said. "There will be no peace in this house if you don't tell us what you know. I see a glint of mischief on your face, and you must have information about this person, whoever he is!"
"Very well, my dear. You have found me out. I have already visited the gentleman at Netherfield yesterday, and I do believe he will be calling on us this very day!" He winked at Elizabeth, and was about to finish his explanation when Fanny, Lydia and Kitty all screamed.
"Papa!" the girls said simultaneously.
"Oh, Mr. Bennet! How can you be so cruel to me?" their mother loudly voiced "You know how fragile my nerves are! Girls, we must make haste! I must have all of you change your dresses, and I must tell the cook to make her best biscuits. I know he will be most impressed with her biscuits." Elizabeth marveled at how her mother didn't even seem to take a breath while she talked. "Girls, go upstairs and change your clothes immediately. Lydia, you will wear the yellow dress with matching ribbons in your hair, and Kitty, borrow Jane's blue dress. It will look lovely with your hair. Jane, dear, put on your pale green dress and remove the lace from the décolletage. The gentleman must see you at your very best."
Jane blushed and said, "Mother, we do not even know who this gentleman is, and I will not show my bosom to a perfect stranger."
Thomas frowned at his wife. "Fanny, that will be enough of that talk."
"Yes, well then, wear the pink gown your aunt bought for you in town. That dress is quite becoming and fashionable, and he must think we are ladies of excellent taste." She looked around the table and focused on Mar
y. "And Mary, please do something with your hair. Do not pull it back so severely!" she screeched. "And put something else on beside that horrid grey jumper. You look like someone's spinster Aunt." With that, she left the table and made her way into the kitchen, yelling at the cook to begin baking biscuits and an apple pie as well.
Elizabeth looked down at her plain muslin day dress and guessed that it would do for visitors. Her mother had no suggestions for her to change, so she would just wear what she currently had on. "I have no interest in meeting any gentleman to marry anyway," she thought to herself. "I will never marry unless I am deeply in love, and besides, whoever this gentleman is, he will not care what I am wearing." She shrugged her shoulders and bit into her bread.
"You must tell us everything, Papa! Is he very rich?" Lydia said. "Does he like to dance?"
"Yes, who is he, Papa? Is he a Baron?" Kitty implored.
Lydia continued, "Is he a single gentleman, Papa? Is he quite handsome?"
"Girls, please quiet yourselves. His name is Mr. Bingley, and he is not a Baron. He is looking for a small estate to lease and possibly purchase for himself and his sister. I would consider him to be a nice enough young fellow, but I cannot judge a man's appearance as you undoubtedly will. As for his wealth, it did not come up in the conversation, nor did I inquire if he likes to dance. I will leave that up to you to find out ... the dancing, that is, not his wealth." Thomas rose from his chair and told the girls to do what their mother requested. Noticing that his wife had not given Elizabeth any instructions about her attire, he said "Lizzy, would you like to play a game of chess with me, or are you going out for a walk?"
"I think I will take my walk, Papa. I have plenty of time to walk and return in time to meet this mystery man. Perhaps we can play chess later this afternoon." She grabbed her red pelisse off the hook in the hall and pulled her bonnet on her head. She already had her walking boots on, so she took off toward the woods, down the path to climb up to her favorite place, Oakham Mount. From there, she could see the entire valley below, and on nice days like today, she loved to feel the sun on her face. It was a long distance from home, and she knew that she would be away from Longbourn for most of the morning, but if Mr. Bingley came this morning with his sisters, missing them did not bother her. She knew that she would feel the wrath of her mother and hear about her lack of manners for days to come, but Elizabeth was used to being the subject of her mother's disdain, and the walk to Oakham Mount was worth the scolding.
She took an apple and a muffin from the kitchen as she left, and she packed a small red and white tablecloth to have a little picnic when she reached the top of the hill. As she walked along, she thought that as many times as she had done this, she always saw new things and would never tire of her walks through the woods. She stopped to pick up several small broken egg shells and she looked up to see a bird's nest above her in a large tree with a mother bird feeding her young ones hidden inside. "Oh, how lovely", she said out loud. "They must have just been hatched!" The mother bird began chattering at her, telling her to go away, and so she continued on, not wanting to upset the mother bird's important job of feeding her babies. She noticed that the recent rain had caused a lot of the smaller branches to break off and the forest floor was covered with twigs. "Just perfect for mother birds to make their nests" she thought. "Mother Nature is such a wonder. Everything has its purpose, and it all works somehow."
Her life at Longbourn was so chaotic and without much order, that she thought how nice it would be to fend for herself in the woods. "I could eat berries and drink water from the stream," she thought. "I could build a fire in a clearing to stay warm at night, and it would be just me and nature. No mother yelling about her nerves, no searching for dresses that a sister borrowed without asking, no boring afternoons sitting in the drawing room embroidering pillows that I will never finish, and no pressure to find a man to marry." Although Elizabeth knew that her fantasy was just that, a fantasy that could not come true, she still longed for some peace and quiet and the freedom to wander at her leisure. "One day I want to live in a lovely place with beautiful gardens where I can walk and walk and never worry about what time I have to return."
After about an hour, she finally found her way up the steep incline to the very top of the highest hill, and she carefully stepped out onto a flat rock precipice that hung over the valley below. From there she could see as far as the village of Meryton in the distance, and to the left, she could see the estate of Netherfield and the fields surrounding it. The sun was just high enough that she felt the warmth on her arms, and she removed her bonnet and tilted her head back to let the sun shine on her face. She knew that a lady shouldn't have freckles on her face, but she really didn't care about that. Her mother constantly reminded her that her skin was darker than her sister Jane from being out of doors too much, and no young man would find her at all attractive.
She stood like that for what seemed like hours, but she soon was distracted by the sound of a horse and the sight of a man riding away from the fence separating Longbourn and Netherfield. It occurred to her that he had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and he must have come through the break in the fence that only she knew of. She loved to walk to the small stream that was near the fence, and one day when she continued walking, she discovered the broken fence and she cautiously walked through the opening to pick wildflowers in the neighbor's field. The field was once planted with crops, but since Mr. Langley, the owner of Netherfield, had moved away it had become overrun with beautiful multi-colored wildflowers. It made her feel angry that someone else had found her secret, and she hoped this man, whoever he was, would not spoil it by letting it be known to anyone else.
Chapter Eighteen
Strange sounds in the night
Darcy awoke early again, having slept poorly. He had locked his door leading to the hall the night before, because he felt certain that Miss Bingley might try to find her way into his chambers to finally stake her claim on him. He had heard the rumors through the years about his Aunt Catherine entering Lord De Bourg's quarters in the middle of the night, and although he didn't know whether or not it was true, it seemed feasible, knowing his Aunt and her calculating behavior.
He knew Miss Bingley was equally conniving, so he had also blocked the door leading into his adjacent sitting room with a large table. He had been correct in his assumption, as he definitely heard the door knob being turned in the middle of the night, and he also heard movement in the sitting room. "This woman has caused me to move furniture and lose sleep!" he said to himself. "This time she has gone too far, and I must speak to Bingley about her right away. Her fantasy of me asking her to be my wife is ridiculous, and she needs to be convinced that marrying me will absolutely never happen."
He got up and once again dressed himself in his riding clothes. He made the excuse in his mind that he wanted to give Omega exercise again, but he knew that his real purpose was to examine the red house down the path he explored the morning before, and to hopefully find that it was not similar to his painting after all. Darcy had grown to be a man of a very serious nature, allowing only his work and his responsibilities to consume his life. He had not allowed himself to partake in any frivolous activities, and he could not even really explain why he had decided to paint again, but it had drawn him in like a moth to a flame, quite like his need to ride through the broken fence at Netherfield. He didn't believe in ghosts or mystical things, but whatever this was that was happening to him was something he could not ignore. "I am sure there is a perfectly good explanation," he thought to himself. He considered the thought that perhaps he had ridden down this small country road at another time in his youth and simply remembered the pretty house and gardens, but he doubted that he had ever visited this part of England before.
He quietly left the house through the back stairway so as not to make any noise passing Miss Bingley's chambers. He saddled Omega and rode the same route he had taken the day before. As he traveled across the field, he looked up
at the line of tall hills in the distance, and there on a precipice jutting out from the top of the highest cliff, he noticed a small figure in red at the very edge, standing perfectly still looking out across the valley. It appeared to be quite a precarious place to stand, but whoever it was did not seem to be concerned about the danger. He rode a little closer, and he could tell that it was a young woman, looking up at the sky, exposing her face to the sun. "This is the woman I saw walking on the road yesterday" he thought. "She must make a habit of taking walks in the early morning hours, and how singular that she is exposing her skin to the harsh sunlight. That is so unlike any female that I have ever met!" He marveled at the thought that this woman had hiked to the top of this cliff and was not at all afraid to be near the edge. "I wonder if she lives somewhere nearby?" he thought.
He turned his horse and slowly walked toward the trees while she still held her head up toward the sky, hoping she had not seen him watching her. He was very curious to learn who she was, and he planned to ask Mr. Bennett if he knew who it might be. Mr. Bennett said that everyone knew one another in this small village, and a girl like this would certainly be well known. He slowly rode through the break in the fence and into the wooded area where the stream flowed. Omega slowed, wanting to stop for a drink as he had done the day before, but Darcy gently kicked his flanks to tell him that they didn't have time to do so today. They finally came to the opening in the trees, and Darcy stopped, taking in the scene as if it was a painting in a frame. "It is exactly as I painted it. There is no mistaking it now." He desperately wanted to ride closer, but he felt that it would alarm the Bennett family to see a stranger on horseback at this hour, so he turned to leave. As he took one last look, he again noticed the swing hanging from the large tree at the side of the house, and to his shock, there was a red book lying on the swing. "Good Lord, tell me I am dreaming," he said aloud. "This is just too much of a coincidence." He flicked the reins for Omega to start walking, and he returned down the pathway, his entire body shaking.
