Elizabeth encounters a trespasser.
There are watershed days in our lives. Days after which our lives take a distinct turn and everything thereafter is different. Wedding days. The birth of a child. Not all such days, however, are self-evident. Some are only recognized in hindsight. September 1st in the 1811th Year of Our Lord was such a day for Elizabeth Bennet, although she was not to recognize its importance for some months.
As dawn rose on this late summer day, a light, low lying mist hovered over the fields and lawns of Longbourn. The air was just crisp enough to require a light wrap. Elizabeth slipped out of the house early, as was her wont, and eating a fresh muffin, tramped contentedly with a book toward Oakham Mount. She felt full of life – grateful for her family, her home, her friends – yet pleased to be on her own this idyllic morning. The climb to Oakham Mount was not arduous, for Elizabeth was country-bred and a great walker. Her dearest Jane, her older sister, was far more sedentary and still asleep, otherwise Elizabeth would have enjoyed her company. She, however, both exulted in nature and appreciated solitude and so, with no regret, covered the distance with a stride never exhibited by young ladies of the haut ton.
Although she could happily ramble any time of the day, she especially loved the early morning light. It gave the countryside an ethereal look as if the pixies and elves had barely taken themselves off to bed. Puck himself might still be lingering for some last minute mischief. Climbing up out of the shallow lake of mist, she picked her way along the woodland paths so familiar to her she scarcely had to think where she was going. A few trees and shrubs were beginning to anticipate the coming autumn. A squirrel watched her as she approached. Its cheeks were stuffed full, its paws holding yet another acorn. Elizabeth laughed at its greed.
Reaching her destination she proceeded to a small, dry cave obscured by a bank of fiddlehead ferns that she had discovered years ago and had claimed for her own. She was seeking a blanket she had set aside to protect her gown from the damp and the dew. To her amazement her shelter was occupied, the blanket draped over the back of a sleeping form. Being a sensible young woman, her first impulse was to return quickly to Longbourn, having no desire to confront a possibly dangerous vagrant. Why she waited, why she decided to satisfy her curiosity, she could never say. Instinct, perhaps. Or stupidity. Like the rest of humanity Elizabeth had her inexplicable moments. She found a long stick, and with her voice shaking only slightly, poked the recumbent figure with it, and said, "Oy! You there! You're on private property, you know!"
The figure started with a gasp and turned to face Elizabeth. Looking back at her was a dirty face (not unexpected), accompanied by bedraggled blonde curls, red-rimmed blue eyes, and streaks on a face where tears had run. Who was more shocked? A moot point. Immediately Elizabeth addressed the girl more gently. "Who are you? Where do you come from?" She took a breath, "My name is Elizabeth."
The girl looked both frightened and disoriented. "I … I … I don't know. Where am I?"
"You're at Longbourn, our family estate."
The girl merely looked confused, quirking her eyebrows and shaking her head.
"Near Meryton? In Hertfordshire? England?"
"Well, yes, I know England."
Elizabeth chuckled. "That's a beginning at least. What about Hertfordshire?"
"Yes, I've heard of it. I don't remember Meryton though. Do you not recognize me?" The girl's face was pinched and worried.
Elizabeth lowered herself to sit on her heels. "Why are you sleeping in my cave? And you haven't told me your name."
"I – uh – I think I'm hiding." She pondered the idea for a moment. "Yes, I am sure I'm hiding."
"From whom?"
"I'm not sure..." She let out a huff of frustration. "… Somebody."
"What is your name?"
"I do not know." The girl looked at first surprised and then somewhat abashed as if she had been found wanting in her lessons and was expecting to be set lines for her lack of effort.
Deciding that answers were more likely to appear in a better atmosphere, Elizabeth stood and said firmly, "You cannot stay here obviously. You must come home with me. I daresay you are lightheaded. Warm food and a bath will, I'm certain, work wonders. Then we can determine what to do next. My family is a little boisterous at times, but I can promise you that you will be welcomed and cared for. And Cook has this morning made some wonderful muffins!"
Gently taking the blanket from her trespasser, folding it and tucking it away back in her cave behind the ferns, Elizabeth smiled, took the girl's arm and led her homeward. The girl went willingly, though whether it was trust or hunger motivating her, she herself likely did not know. While they walked Elizabeth looked over at her adopted charge. She was a well-formed young lady, but seemed very young somehow, even waiflike although she was taller than Elizabeth. Although the girl was disheveled and dirty, her torn clothing was well-made from expensive materials. Unlike Elizabeth, who wore sturdy half-boots, the girl was wearing slippers which were rather the worse for wear. She had a gold chain at her neck and a delicate gold bracelet on her left wrist. She was wearing a man's frock coat over her own pelisse. Curious circumstances indeed, but Elizabeth said nothing, fearing to frighten the girl away - she looked so very lost.
Of course those surreptitious glances were also reciprocated. The girl contemplated her rescuer, a petite brunette with curly hair, dark, sparkling eyes and a warm smile. Her clothes were practical, not in the first stare of fashion certainly, but not dowdy. She rather decided she liked her guide, but felt reluctant, nonetheless, to trust her completely. Somehow she knew instinctively, in spite of her confusion, that she had learned during her young life that people were not to be trusted.
Two nights ago.
She was deliciously happy, full of love and expectations.George loved her!It was a shame that George and her brother had drifted apart, but Georgiana was confident that when Fitzwilliam saw how happy she was and how tenderly and respectfully George treated her, the two men she loved most would reconcile.
Her only reservations were regarding the elopement.It was very romantic, but not at all proper and she had been raised to be a very proper young lady.But, George had insisted it was the best way, because otherwise Fitzwilliam would make them wait until she was of age and that was six years away!She could not bear it, truly she could not.So she smothered her conscience with happy daydreams reminding herself how proper George had been.He had kissed her hand – several times – but never exceeded that, not even when they had been left unchaperoned by Mrs Younge, her companion.He was trustworthy - her rosy future shone brightly before her in her mind's eye.
They were staying at the Black Horse Inn in _shire; Georgiana had retired for the night.Finding that the fire in her room was rather low, and hearing, she thought, a maid in the hallway, she stepped to her door to ask for an additional bedcover.The "maid" was Mrs Younge who, carrying a bottle of brandy, was entering George's room down the hall.Shocked, bewildered, and unable to do otherwise, Georgiana stepped quietly after her and shamelessly eavesdropped at George's door.
With her head pounding and her heart breaking, Georgiana learned the truth of George Wickham and his paramour, Mrs Younge.She returned to her room, dressed as hurriedly as she could in the one dress she could manage on her own.Determined to fly to her brother as quickly as possible, she stuffed her valuables in her reticule and a minimum of necessities in a bandbox.With her heart in her mouth, she stepped into the hallway intending to find the servants' staircase.To her horror, George's door opened and she could hear Mrs Younge and George laughing just within.Turning the opposite way in desperation, Georgiana hastily knocked on the neighboring door and then, finding it unlocked, simply thrust herself into the room.She turned quickly, threw the bolt to the door, and stood shaking with her forehead resting on the door frame.
"May I help you in some way?"A very polite voice from a nicely dressed young man set Georgiana's heart to racing still faster.
"I – I - .May I hide here, please?"
Her rescuer stared at the unlikely vision before him, then suggested she sit down and explain things to him.At that moment, however, someone began pounding on the door.
Georgiana looked at the young man in fear. "Please, sir! I beg of you.Do not give me up!" she whispered hoarsely.
Her rescuer calmly led her to the wardrobe and invited her to hide within.The pounding on the door increased and someone began to rattle the latch.
"Hold on there!What sort of inn is this?"The young man strode to the door, unbolting it and swinging it open with some force, demanded, "Who the devil are you?!"
Mrs Younge and Wickham stood there hesitating only briefly before explaining that they were looking for a girl, her ward.The girl was unstable, they said, and being taken to the country for a rest. Finally, if he, the young man, knew anything about her, he should let them know immediately.
"Tell me again.Who is this girl?"
"We told you.Our ward," Wickham answered impatiently.
"Yourward?I thought you said it was herward."
"She is the ward of us both!Have you seen her?"
The young man rubbed his nose. "How old is she?What does she look like?"
"Fifteen."
"Oh, is she pretty?"
Wickham all but snarled his response, "What difference does that make?"
The young man considered. "Well, I daresay I would have been more likely to notice her if she was pretty, but she sounds like part of the infantry. How did you come to lose her?"
"We did not loseher!She ran away!"
"Why?"
"Because she's unstable!"
"You probably should not have left her alone then.You never did say if she was pretty."The young man gazed at his interlocutors with guileless blue eyes and a rather vacant expression.
Wickham began to exhibit considerable temper at this point.Responding, however, to Mrs Younge's pressure on his arm, he quietly asked again if the girl had been seen.Receiving a bland and confused stare, the two said thank you just the same and turned away.As the door once again closed against the pair in the hall, Wickham said with exasperation, "And that is no doubt someone's son and heir!"
The son and heir tiptoed quietly to the wardrobe and opening the door suggested to Georgiana that they speak very softly in case her pursuers were listening at the door.Georgiana nodded, then dissolved into silent tears.
The Bennets give aid to Georgiana.
As Elizabeth approached Longbourn with her new charge, she again brought up the problem about her name. "We must have something to call you, after all."
The girl suggested "Miss Jones."
"Oh, no. Our apothecary is Mr Jones. That might attract awkward questions."
"Miss Smith?"
"All right. Do you think a Christian name might be useful?"
"Jane?"
"My sister's name is Jane!"
"Mary, then."
Chuckling, Elizabeth negated that idea as well. "My next sister is Mary. Then come Catherine, called Kitty, and Lydia. There are five of us. No brothers."
"How lovely it must be to have sisters!"
"Perhaps you do," replied Elizabeth, giving her a quick look and thinking hard on "Miss Smith's" reply.
"Um, yes. . .perhaps I do. Do you not you think I would remember them?" She looked at her feet. "I think Anne would be a nice name, don't you? Anna."
"'Anna Smith' it is." Elizabeth gave her a bright smile and squeezed her arm. "Please don't worry about anything for the time being. Let us get you fed and warmed and bathed and rested in a proper bed. Much as I have loved my secret nook over the years, I have not tried to sleep in it since I was about nine years! Did you actually sleep?"
Anna smiled ruefully. "It was a trifle uncomfortable, but I slept some, I am sure. The blanket helped, though, and I was well-hidden behind the ferns." A frisson of fear flickered across her face.
Elizabeth squeezed her arm again gently. "You are safe now. No one will be able to get at you or bother you or worry you. I promise."
The girls approached the manor house. The mist had burnt off, but the dew had not. Anna's slippers were wet through. Elizabeth took her through the scullery entrance knowing that while most of her family undoubtedly slept, the servants were up and busy. Calling for Mrs Hill and Cook to help her, she set in motion a bath, some breakfast and some clothing. Jane unwittingly donated a dress. Lydia was taller and closer to Anna's height, but Elizabeth knew better than to expect discreet or generous help from Lydia.
She left Anna to the staff's sympathetic ministrations. Then, carefully carrying a tray laden with coffee and muffins, Elizabeth knocked on the door of her father's bookroom. Entering, she curtseyed, "Good morning, Papa." Pausing slightly and then painting a bright smile on her face, "I'm afraid, Papa, I come bearing some trouble with your morning coffee."
Mr Bennet scowled and sighed. "Indeed, my dear? What kind of trouble have you managed to find on your morning ramble today? Another mouth to feed, no doubt - canine or feline?" He viewed her with narrowed eyes. Elizabeth's finds tended to be reasonably simple to work out – usually a stray cat or dog – and once a goat. They never did discover the owner of the goat, so "Erasmus" was settled at the home farm and followed Elizabeth around whenever she visited it.
Fortunately Mr Bennet failed to disguise the twinkle in his eye, which gave Elizabeth the courage to reply with a sheepish grin, "As a matter of fact, it is another mouth to feed, Papa – two-legged though."
"Oh, Lizzy! Please donot tell me you've discovered yet another urchin! We simply do not have a place for one more. The child will have to go on the parish."
Elizabeth quickly disabused him of that idea and succinctly explained her morning's adventures to an astonished Mr Bennet.
"She does not remember who she is?!"
"To be honest, I am not entirely sure." Elizabeth hesitated. "She says she does not remember. When I woke her she was undeniably confused by her surroundings, but I am not certain she has forgotten her name. On the other hand, I am inclined to believe her. She clearly comes from the ranks of 'quality' and was sleeping in a hole in the ground. I am sure she's genuinely terrified of something - or someone. Why else should she have ended up hiding in my cave? She was wearing a well-made gentleman's frock coat with a tailor's mark indicating the gentleman's initials are 'WRTB.' Ought we to consult with the magistrate?"
Mr Bennet pursed his lips as he considered the situation. He wanted to ponder at length on his response. It depended on why the girl was lost and how she had become injured. If she was gently born, as Elizabeth had determined, it would do well to move slowly and not expose her to society before she could be restored to her family. Although Mr Bennet was admittedly an indolent sort of father, he did appreciate the value of a young woman's reputation. Having effectively taken "Anna Smith" under his protection felt honor bound to do his best for her.
"Bring her to meet me after she has been able to rest. Let us not burden her with questions for now. Let her begin to feel safe with us before we attempt to delve more deeply. We will need to call in the apothecary to look at her injuries." He sighed. "Your mama may be a problem."
Elizabeth answered his sigh with one of her own. "Yes."
In the meanwhile, Anna was sinking into the pleasure of a hot bath, although, she could not really relax. How on earth had she got here?Where did she belong? Elizabeth seemed very sympathetic, as did Cook and Mrs Hill. She was obviously not local. Her head hurt terribly and she felt vaguely dizzy. Washing her hair she found a lump on the back of her head and she had bruises on her arm. Had she been in an accident? Her clothes were both torn and dirty. Sleeping in a cave!Why?There was some danger. It was the only thing she was sure of. If only she could remember . . .
Georgiana had no idea how very fortunate she was when she pushed her way into her neighbor's room.Very easily her situation with George Wickham could have turned equally dreadful had she encountered a rake or scoundrel.Instead her astonished rescuer was a young man of impeccable breeding and upright morals.When they decided that it was safe again to talk, Georgiana explained that she had been "kidnapped" by her companion with the help of a friend.She, herself, had thought only that they were taking a trip, but had overheard the two of them as they plotted for her ransom.That was not a complete lie because what she had overheard was a discussion of what they planned to do if she should get cold feet; Wickham had no intention of letting her change her mind.Somewhat belatedly sensitive to the scandal of her actions, she left out the fact that she had left her home willingly on a romantic flight to the border.
Her neighbor introduced himself as Robert Benedict and asked her what she needed or wanted most.She explained that she needed to get home to her brother.She did not give him her name, a faux pashe politely overlooked sensing that there was more to her story than she was willing to reveal.Although he appeared to be a naïve and simple young man, he was in fact a first class university scholar.Rather than question his frightened guest further, he focused his attention on how they were to return her to her brother.He, himself, was traveling by stage for a quick trip to see his family before returning to university for his last year.Having been rather extravagant during his holiday, he was reduced to traveling by public conveyance.Would she be willing to do the same?That was no problem, but boarding the stage at the Black Horse Inn was impossible if Wickham and Mrs Younge were lingering in hopes of seeing her.
Besides being well-dressed and well-bred, Benedict was also quick thinking and practical. "Wait here.Bolt the door behind me.I'll tap three times and then three times again when I return."
Some quarter hour later, he returned with the happy news that they could ride from the back of the inn with a carter, then pick up the stage again at the carter's destination.The carter's wagon was uncomfortable and slow.They did not reach his destination until morning by which point Georgiana was exhausted in both body and spirit.Fortunately Benedict was quite solicitous of her comfort.When they reached the staging inn, he suggested that they could wait safely there for her brother to come fetch her.Georgiana resisted the idea.She still did not feel safe from her erstwhile lover.Moreover, she could not feel that a public reunion would be pleasing to her brother under the circumstances and would prefer to meet him in London at Darcy House.Benedict thought she was misguided, but acquiesced to her wishes.He ordered breakfast and commandeered a private parlor where Georgiana could rest until the stage arrived.While she rested, he busied himself with buying tickets for the stage and enjoying the company of those in the public rooms.
Never having traveled on a public conveyance, Georgiana did not find her first experience remotely pleasant.She was squeezed between a rotund tradesman and his equally plump, wheezing wife.Across from them sat – well, it must be three sisters - each matron more formidable than the next and each eyeing her suspiciously.Disapproval fairly radiated from them.Georgiana felt her situation strongly.A young girl apparently traveling alone on the public stage and with so little luggage!In fact, Benedict had purchased their tickets as brother and sister.He elected to ride on the roof for the inside tickets all but one had been sold.She insisted on paying the difference in their tickets, but he would not have it, saying that he had never before had an excuse for riding up top and it would certainly be his pleasure.
All might have been well had most of the top riders not been drinking and insisting on tooling the coach themselves.Predictably the coach ended in a ditch.Tumbling to the floor, she found herself buried under numerous strangers' bodies.Amid screeching, bad language (from the tradesman) and wailing, Georgiana found herself shaken, her dress slightly torn and her straw bonnet crumpled.Benedict suffered a severely wrenched and sprained leg.She went to him immediately, full of tears and expressions of guilt and regret.He cheerfully told her that it was no worse than he might get engaged in sports at university and thank goodness at least his leg was not broken.He tied up his calf with his cravat and declared himself practically as good as new.Georgiana smiled at his cheerful kindliness, obviously meant to ease her conscience.
The coachman released the horses from their traces and prepared to walk to the closest town for help accompanied by those willing passengers who were fit for the walk.The three disapproving sisters, the tradesman and his spouse, and, of course, Georgiana and Benedict remained.Georgiana would much rather have walked on as well, but could hardly leave her injured benefactor.They sat next to each other on a low stone wall talking quietly.Her companion could see that she was uncomfortable remaining behind, exposed on the road as they were, but for her to leave with the drunken passengers had been clearly out of the question.They sat for a while watching the sunlight fade.Benedict suddenly announced, "I think I shall call you 'Buttercup.'"This so surprised Georgiana he explained, "For your golden tresses and yellow bonnet."She responded with her first genuine smile since she learned the truth about her dishonest lover.
As they sat next to each other chatting quietly about inconsequential things, Georgiana anxiously watched the road.Although he was in his final year at university, Benedict considered himself a man of the world rather than the callow young fellow he was.His chivalric deeds served him creditably and he was now well on his way to falling in love.He was entirely too polite to question Georgiana about her discomfort; at the same time he wanted terribly to be of assistance to this delicate and lovely creature in some fashion.The problem seemed to be resolved when a well-dressed man in a barouche came along and offered his services.Unable to take all the stranded passengers in his carriage, he recognized the quality of Georgiana and Benedict's clothing and saw how his "aid" might easily turn to profit.Subsequently, after some discussion, he offered passage to the injured young fellow and his lovely sister, and Georgiana's bandbox and Benedict's luggage were transferred to the barouche as the two young people climbed aboard.
The driver had mentioned the name of a nearby town.It was off the main road, he said, but would get them quickly to a surgeon to attend Benedict's injuries.Georgiana hardly knew where she was, only that she was not at home.Benedict, on the other hand, seemed to think it a logical plan and agreed to the destination.The driver, a jovial sort, introduced himself as Horace Stalcup and chatted about one thing after the other despite receiving rather lackluster responses from his young passengers.After a time he drew the carriage to a halt at the side of the road declaring something was amiss with one of the horses.He climbed down to investigate and suggested that they stretch their legs for a few minutes.Georgiana and Benedict followed his counsel.A stream paralleling the road offered them the opportunity to quench their thirst and clean up a bit.While they were gingerly making their way, they heard the barouche suddenly moving off.Shouts of dismay did not avail them.Running after their luggage was quite impossible.
"I am certainly a failure at protecting you!" Benedict uttered in abject frustration.
Georgiana begged him not to think so meanly of himself.He could hardly have done more with an injured leg.Moreover, she was genuinely glad of his company.She still had her reticule and a little money, perhaps they could pay the next passing driver to take them to a nearby inn or village.Benedict perked up.With the confidence and optimism of youth, he declared, "I have a guinea or two in my pocket as well.We shall do!"