Disclaimer: I do not own those characters/settings that belong to Jane Austen. I do not own those characters that belong to Linda Berdoll (see my other P&P story for who she is). I do however, own Catharine Mary Darcy, as little as she is mentioned here.
Her Father's Daughter
Elizabeth Darcy was walking the long carpeted halls of her home, looking for her wayward daughter.
It was a normal occurrence, as her daughter rather disliked her lessons, even if she didn't particularly mind her governess. The ten-year-old had moods where she would be happy to learn and moods where she simply had to be outside and moving. Her twin brother was the same, but he had more patience. Her Janie had got all of her own independent nature and her father's stubborn streak all in one. She was their trouble child.
It didn't help that Jane had discovered the servant's passages when she was six-years-old and now knew the winding, small, hidden corridors like she knew the rest of the house. This wasn't a problem for Darcy, as he himself garnered the same knowledge in his own childhood, but Elizabeth's knowledge wasn't as extensive.
Worriedly, she glanced out of the window, where the wind was whipping the trees into a frenzy, tearing their multi-coloured leaves from bare branches and tossing them carelessly into the lake. The clouds were ominously dark and pressing, threatening rain. None of this would discourage Janie from riding out into the park. In fact, she adored the more wild weather far more than calm, warm days.
Her fears were confirmed as the footman she'd sent out to the stables hurried back to her down the corridor, together with a very flustered stable hand. Elizabeth frowned and decided it was time this was stopped. The Master of the House would have to go after his daughter.
Jane turned her cold face to wind, loving the way it unravelled her dark hair. She tingled a little, imagining how spectral and mysterious she must look from a distance, her long, light, white child's dress flaring over her pony's hindquarters, dancing in the wind at the crest of the hill, just hidden from the house. She had been riding since she was three, and the hard terrain here suited her smaller pony better than the purebred hunters in the stables. The reins were expertly gathered up in her right hand, the whip flicking on her leg softly in the other.
The wind had called to her from her dreary schoolroom and she hadn't even had the time to change her dress before coming out. Hopefully, she could sneak back and slide into the library to be discovered. The stable boys liked their young mistress and wouldn't tell her parents or her nurses. Only Geoff would know.
With a decisive kick and sharp cry out, she sent her trusty Ingo forward again, down the hill at breakneck speed. She leant forward as she had been taught, to keep her seat and to feel the wind tear past her again as the small creature leapt to her commands, enjoying the impromptu ride as much as she did. Normally they were never allowed to go this fast on this hard land, but they didn't have any chaperones this time.
Suddenly, and with a sense of dread, Jane heard her shout repeated behind her. Someone else was urging a horse towards them. Not ready to be discovered, she started on a winding path through the hillocks and dips that surefooted Ingo could easily navigate, but the other longer-legged horses struggle with. Within a few minutes, she was sure that her captor had been left behind and made for open ground again, wanting to feel the wind.
Imagine her ire when she spied the powerful dark stallion pounding toward her relentlessly. She knew it took an uncommonly good horseman to follow her through that ground. With a hard smile, she decided to test how good her follower really was.
Ingo was thrilled as Jane rose up and urged him on, giving him his head. The pony ran to match the wind swirling around them, up and down the well known hills. The two had evaded all kinds of escorts and chaperones here and were in their element. They jumped ditches and streams, shifting their weight as one to avoid every obstacle and thrilling in their own expertise. Their path took them through brambles and copses, tearing out her hair so it flew back wildly and mudding and tearing her dress, without her notice or care.
Suddenly Jane found herself splayed on a hillside, having flown quite a distance as Ingo took the wrong angle over a particularly tricky rock formation. She rolled on her back with a groan, hurting in at least a dozen different places and sat up, reeling as the landscape span around her.
"Jane!" yelled the one voice she had dreaded to hear and also wanted to hear most now she was hurt.
She could feel the flush from her toes to her hair as she realised she'd been running rebelliously from her own illustrious father. However, her real frustration came when it became obvious that he'd seen her fall. She wouldn't be able to ride for months now!
The world became stable again just in time for Jane to see her father clear the jump easily and expertly on his big hunter, Blackjack, jumping off to stride to her side before the stallion had even landed. The chestnut-haired little girl just about stopped herself huffing at the sight.
"Jane, are you alright?" Relief flooded her, as her Papa sounded more worried than angry as she groaned softly and felt his arms slide around her.
"Jane, look at me." You couldn't refuse the Master of Pemberley when he used that tone so the girl lifted her head and looked into her father's face, sheepishly biting her lip. His gaze searched her eyes and, finding she was mostly fine, his disapproval and anger shut down his face. Jane squirmed uncomfortably and hid again, feeling herself being lifted onto Blackjack in Papa's arms.
Her head jolted up and she glared at him before she could stop herself. It would have caused Elizabeth or Geoff to stifle laughter as father and daughter looked the exact same when angry. However, Darcy raised one thick eyebrow at her before she uttered a word, shaming her into silence.
The ride back to the house was conducted in the same way; complete silence. Jane tried to sit properly on the horse when they came into view of the house, rather than suffering the humiliating ordeal of being carried in, making it clear she had fallen and hurt herself. However, Papa didn't let her move an inch, his stern and tight jaw hardening more as she tried.
The squawking flurry of servants and nurses descended on them as they rode up to the stables, Ingo blowing hard now from having to keep up with the much larger stallion. Jane was more anxious that he hadn't twisted a hoof in his uneven landing that she was about herself, but she trusted that he was fine, otherwise Papa would not have let him trot behind Blackjack all the way back.
Her embarrassment peaked when her Father gave her into the arms of another of the strong male servant, instructing him to carry her up to her room and instructing her not to move. She made to protest again but something in his eyes quietened her and she submitted with bad grace, watching him stride to her Mama, who was watching from the doorway, a cool look on her even features. Miss Darcy strained to see their conversation as she was borne away, but could not see much of it as she had to listen to her nurse's many chastisements.
Elizabeth saw that Darcy was fuming with anger, once again, at their eldest daughter. She did find it incredibly amusing that his own character, reflected back on him through their little girl, could get under his usually impenetrable skin so easily.
However, Darcy didn't like to be laughed at in the best of times, and this was certainly not the right time for some gentle teasing. She touched his arm softly and caught his gaze.
"Where was she?"
He exhaled in a puff and started on a long tirade about how reckless she was being and how obstinate. Only Elizabeth's exclamation about her fall calmed him down enough to reassure her and they stood for a private moment in a hidden nook, just reassuring each other that their family was still whole and healthy. His annoyance then returned and he rubbed his slightly greying temples softly. She smiled at him, causing him to smile back and recovering his composure instantly, without a word.
"Have her sent into my study when they have tended to her bruises," he said, giving her a soft and private kiss, as no one could see them.
She nodded once and sighed a little as he slipped away, down the corridor. Janie was worrying them both.
Soon after, ten-year-old Jane Darcy was standing in her least favourite place in the world; in front of her father's desk. The young lady was trying not to look at her shoes while her father gave her one of his dreaded calm talks, which unyieldingly outlines just how you are disappointing him and the entire family. Both Geoff and Jane had suffered through a few of their father's talks, together and seperatly and Jane more often. Their four-year-old sister, Cat, (Catherine, but she was only called that formally) had never had to stand where she was now, simply because the horror stories the twins had told scarred her off wrong-doing for life. Age wouldn't have been a barrier otherwise, as the twins had already done this for the first time by their third birthday.
Jane was attempting the hard task of appearing to listen to her Father, without actually listening, not out of disrespect but because she knew she would cry if she listened properly. Both the twins knew how much was expected of them, and hated disappointing their father with a passion. He was the centre of their worlds. But sometimes, they just couldn't help breaking a rule. After an age (as it seemed), Jane was given her punishment, made to promise to keep it and released. She scampered out of the room like lightening as soon as the permission was given, barely remembering her manners.
Mama passed her, on her way into the study, and smiled at her ruefully. Jane felt the tension go out of her body, not having realised that she was worried about what her Mother was thinking when she seemed so cool before. It was clear now that Lizzie was just punishing her that little bit extra, in the way her parents were so adept at doing. Jane hung around quietly, curious and anxious about what they were going to say about her.
"How now, Darcy?" Mama asked lightly.
Papa sighed heavily. "I suppose we can only wait to see. She is forbidden to ride until she is healed of those bruises." A pause, then Papa continued, "It won't set her back too much. She rides well."
Jane stuffed her fist into her mouth to stop herself gasping. Papa didn't praise horsemanship often, as Geoff and she were just starting, in comparison to him. Those three words meant the world to her.
Mama laughed, seeming to cast off worry. "She is truly your daughter."
A loaded pause. Then the rich boom of her father's laughter rang out, causing Janie to fly back to the nursery on wings.
Definitely worth the bruises.
A/N: Not sure if I like this one that much but I did have the characters of the three Darcy children in my head, so I decided to put some of it down. Apologies also for using the same line, if anyone nooticed. Hope this is good enough for those of you that wanted more from my version of this famous family.