Chapter 6

Elizabeth awoke that same morning and quickly bound her breasts in cotton strips, put on her father's altered shirt and breeches and Mr. Hill's old coarse woolen coat in the pitch black of the predawn. Then she quickly washed her face, rebraided her hair into two tight sections that she then covered with a thick cap. Lastly, she grabbed the leather strip loosely wound around a bulky pouch in one hand and her workboots in the other and satisfied that Jane was undisturbed, she headed out the door. In the hallway, she checked her father's door and seeing no light, headed down to his library. Her quiet knock was answered with an "enter Lizzie."

"Good morning, Papa!" she said as she went to her father who had stood at her entrance and kissed her forehead.

"Why are you up so early, my dear. I thought all that dancing and frolicking would have tired you out," stated Mr. Bennet with a twinkle in his eyes. He already knew from her attire that she planned on riding out this morning.

"Papa, you know that merely hopping around the dance floor does nothing to tax my energies. Besides, I spent more time visiting with my friends than dancing," she said with a wry grin.

"Yes, so I noticed." He cocked his head and looked at her with a raised brow. "You are not upset because some nob from London failed to be impressed with your beauty, are you Lizzie? That Darcy character did not even bother staying with the Bingleys during the introductions though Mr. Bingley did mention that he was eager to 'meet' the populace."

"No, Papa," she said and wanting to change the subject, she continued, "but Jane certainly got Mr. Bingley's attention and though she has yet to say anything, I think he has turned her head too. What is your impression of him so far, Papa?"

"I think him very eager to please and happy with his surroundings. I have not been long in his company but I have seen nothing worrying so far. As for Jane, well, all young ladies liked to be crossed in love, and since that scalawag Frampton, did his part so admirably, she has my leave to try liking a good sort of a man like Mr. Bingley."

Elizabeth was comforted but not totally convinced by her father's opinion but she let it rest. "Well, Mama is certainly encouraged. In fact, last night she listed all her plans on tidying up the parlors and dining room for when Mr. Bingley comes to call. She also wants to freshen up Jane's dresses today, so I thought I could get a ride in before breakfast. Can I take Poseidon out, Papa?"

"Of course, my dear," he nodded "but mind that you do not stay out too long. You know that there will be not peace in this house if she catches you in your breeches, let alone if she hears that you had been riding astride again, especially now that she has a possible beau in her sights. Do you have your sling Lizzie?" She nodded and padded her pocket. "Out you go then."

"Yes, Papa and thank you," she said as she jumped up and out the door, closing it softly behind her.

Mr. Bennet nodded at her retreating back with a satisfied smirk. He knew that his scrawny little rascal had grown into a beautiful, voluptuous woman but not a lot of others have caught on, least of all Lizzie herself. Strangers were more likely to notice her engaging beauty: Mr. Darcy certainly did. The lifelong scholar of human nature didn't miss the looks that worldly gentleman threw at his unsuspecting daughter. Of course he was aware of who the newcomer was. Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire, was too prominent a personage to go unmentioned within the pages of the London papers. Generally known to be an intelligent, responsible and low-key gentleman, Mr. Bennet thought there was something shady or scandalous connected to him but he couldn't recall the specifics. Well, hopefully he will soon tire of this quiet backcountry and return to his more illustrious circles.

Thomas Bennet was born the second son to loving, indulgent parents. While his older brother was raised to handle the responsibilities of running an estate, young Thomas was given the freedom of the countryside to actively pursue his sports and other interests. Being a naturally bright, athletic and witty child, he grew up happy and sheltered. He attended Oxford after his brother where he discovered an affinity for languages and his ability to shine amongst the brightest minds. His keen intellect and linguistic skills caught the attention of higher powers and he was recruited to join the military, specifically, the intelligence branch. There, he acquired training in hand-to-hand combat, survival and surveillance skills, and the nuances of intrigue and machination. His newfound talents were put to use in Paris, Brussels and even London. He soon became disenchanted and even horrified with the world at large both for what he'd witnessed and for the things he did for King and Country. When he was called back home after the sudden death of his mother and brother, he gladly resigned his military career to become a gentleman farmer.

Back in the English countryside, he caught the attention of a pretty, lively daughter of Meryton's attorney. Thomas Bennet was enchanted by the young, nubile, and simple(minded) beauty and he married Francine Gardiner within a year of returning. He tempered his grief over his family's deaths and the greater outside world by learning to manage his unexpected inheritance while succumbing to the marital pleasures found in an enthusiastic, sensual wife.

His life was not devoid of problems. Frannie fell with fever and severe blood-loss after giving birth to his fifth daughter in seven years. Stressful weeks followed and while she survived, they learned to she couldn't have any more children, which ended the possibility of an heir. Shortly thereafter his beloved father died and Thomas Bennet was left with the sole responsibility of caring for his large family, estate and its tenants. His once fun-loving wife grew more shrill and susceptible to nervous complaints after realizing that there was no hope for a long awaited son who would've broken the estate's entail. And while the management of the estate was not mentally taxing, he found it hard to feel an affinity to his family's legacy as he had not been raised with the expectation of it falling on his trim shoulders.

The one consolation at this time was his second daughter, Elizabeth. She was most like him in energy, wit and athleticism, and at five, she exhibited his curiosity and intelligence as well. He took to spending the majority of his spare time with her. Within the house, he taught her to read, speak French, German and Latin. She easily took to chess and thus many hours of entertainment were spent in his library. Outdoors, he instructed her on riding, throwing, climbing trees, hunting and anything else he remembered enjoying in his youth. He even bought her breeches to wear so as to not impede her movements during their various pursuits. Mrs. Bennet spent her time indulging her last baby, Lydia, whilst Jane watched over the other girls. And if the servants and the village residents looked upon the father/daughter duo with merriment or disapproval, Mr. Bennet didn't mind as he was known to laugh at the folly of his neighbors and therefore be laughed at in their turn.

It wasn't until Elizabeth was eleven when Thomas lost his companion and sidekick. Mrs. Bennet decided that they needed the benefit of a governess to turn her girls into proper young ladies so they could attract rich husbands. As he never learned to withstand his wife's demands, he could only sympathize with Lizzie as she was relegated to the schoolroom to learn to write elegantly, embroider, and play an instrument. Thereafter, Lizzie was never allowed to don breeches within sight of her mother. Secretly, Mr. Bennet never stopped giving her his clothes to wear nor hampered her clandestine rides through the early morning countryside.

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Elizabeth quietly led her father's stallion out of the stables and toward the hedges at the end of the rose garden. She donned her gloves and wound her sling to her right wrist then mounted the horse with practiced ease. She kept to the obscurely marked path until she reached the remote pastures between Longbourn and Netherfield. The sun had just risen over the horizon allowing her to see through the light fog and scanning the empty stillness, she spurred Poseidon to a dead run. She let out a small whoop of exhilaration. She never felt more freedom than when she was racing atop a horse. Her two laps around the long field were traversed only too soon and she slowed the stallion down to a more moderate gait. As she circumvented the pasture a couple more times to cool down the horse her thoughts drifted to Mr. Darcy once again.

Elizabeth had done her best to enjoy the previous evening and maintained her attention on Jane once home. It was only after she closed her eyes to sleep when she remembered his hauntingly sad, fearful ones. Those eyes with that face and body were almost too much to take in. She remembered blushing and quickly leaving Charlotte to hide her embarrassment. Now, atop her horse, she felt herself blush anew and a strange quivering sensation in the lower part of her body. She jerked Poseidon to a stop and jumped off the horse. She needed a distraction. She unwound the sling from her wrist leaving the two strands of the loop tied to her thumb and grabbed a few stones off the ground as she briskly walked toward a clump of trees.

Sighting a particular trunk, she grabbed the other end of the sling with her left hand, placed a stone in the slight depression, swung counterclockwise behind her head and cast the stone from her right side. The sling was caught again by her left hand and the motion repeated. She noted with satisfaction that both rounds had found its mark from over fifteen yards. She fired off several more shots, each from a little farther away then returned to where Poseidon was placidly grazing.

Practicing with her sling reminded her of the one time she had to use it on another person. It was almost four years past. Elizabeth frowned. Netherfield was once more let to strangers from London. At least one of its residents was again interested in Jane. It was up to Elizabeth to determine whether the interest was good or bad and in the meantime, she needed to look after Jane.

With that resolve, she headed home, her confusing reactions to Mr. Darcy all but forgotten.