Note: Hmmm…yes I've decided to go wild with the plot line…hehe ;p
Pls R&R! All positive/negative comments are welcome!
Rustford hall stood majestically on an estate of an astonishing 20 acres. It had gone into the late Mr. Wickham's- who was a tea merchant- possession twenty years ago after the death of his only remaining brother. He had two sons; Frank and George. Frank had taken after his father's business in importing tea from the island of *Ceylon and George, who had joined the army some years ago, had recently been promoted to the post of lieutenant. Widowed Mrs. Wickham favoured her youngest born. George had inherited all his papa's good features – one would say he was the very picture of late Mr. Wickham- and had a lively disposition. He was also quite the gentleman and was responsible for breaking more than a few hearts at London's last season. But he would never contemplate marriage. And his mama would never object; she preferred having her dear George all to herself.
That evening, the young master of Rustford hall was not found to be at home.
"Could you please check again?" inquired the annoyed artist for the second time. "Mr. Wickham asked me to come particularly on this day, at this time and I've come all the way Meryton."
"I am sorry sir, but Master George left three hours ago." replied the cold butler tiredly.
Taking his beret off, the artist let out a frustrated sigh and drove a hand through his tousled hair.
"Did he say where he was headed?"
"No, sir."
Without wasting more time, the he mounted his horse and galloped furiously away.
It was just like George Wickham to keep his friends waiting.
Might as well visit Aunt Julia…
*
Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised to find that Mrs. Barrow, like herself, was an avid reader. She had a pretty little collection in her own room- there being no library- and it afforded Elizabeth much pleasure to be allowed to pick out any she chose.
Having decided on a book, The Fool's Blunder, Elizabeth descended the narrow stairs and entered the little sitting room. She was about to sit down on one of the sofas, when the scene from the window across the room caught her. The sun had dimmed low in the golden sky and its rays illuminated the white heads of the grass flowers that grew in abundance all over the sloping field. At the end of the hill was a small fence, running from one end all the way to the other. It was the perfect picture of serenity.
Elizabeth glanced at the clock.
It was only four 'o clock. Surely it wasn't too late to take a walk? Nana was asleep and Mrs. Barrows had taken after her ladyship a few minutes ago.
Without further procrastination Elizabeth withdrew to her room and alighted from it a few minutes later, with a beige shawl wrapped around her shoulders.
A little stroll would do me some good after all these hours trapped in a stuffy inn! thought Elizabeth as she turned the handle of the backdoor.
It was very breezy and refreshing outside. Perfect weather to enjoy a book. She could hear the chickens clucking merrily from the barn to her right. A cat was perched on a potato sack, its eyes fixed resolutely on the chicken coop, waiting for the opportune moment to sneak in and steal an unfortunate hen's egg.
Elizabeth strode past the lively backyard and stepped into the luscious fields. There was no one out at this time. She was anxious if nana might be able to see her but she knew that her aunt's room was on the other side, overlooking the road and stopped worrying. And Mrs. Barrow wouldn't make such a fuss of her going out like this.
It was after all such a cheerful day after yesterday's awful down pour. Who could possibly stay cooped up indoors?
The warm wind tugged at her hair, making it fly in all directions. I must look positively monstrous! thought Elizabeth laughing as she reflected how she had rushed out without arranging her hair, Oh who gives a fig! It isn't as if there is anyone out here.
Shielding her eyes against the sun, she walked on for a few minutes. Thousands of fallen leaves which had been neatly swept up into piles were beginning to blow all over the place. What wasted effort! thought Elizabeth as she opened to the first page of the book. The story was interesting and before long Elizabeth's thoughts were focused entirely on the developing relationship between heroine of the novel and the dashing Lord Grant. Little did she realise that it was nearly more than an hour since she started. When she finally looked up from the book, Elizabeth was startled to find herself within arm's reach of the never-ending fence she had seen from the sitting-room window. Behind the fence was dense woodland which seemed to stretch on for miles. Turning around, she nearly gasped at the distance she had come.
The Poppyrock looked much smaller than she had imagined. Glancing at the sky, Elizabeth grew a bit nervous. The sun had descended and it was beginning to grow quite dark. She would have to hurry if she wanted to make it before dusk. Had she really been out for more than an hour!? She looked down in a frown at her book as if that- and not her curiosity- was what had kept her out so long. Letting out a sigh, Elizabeth quickly smoothed out her hair and was about to walk back when she heard a branch crack. Instinctively, she swung around. Her eyes scanned the wood but it was so dense that she could not perceive anything. Surely it must be just a squirrel thought Elizabeth and erased any apprehensive thoughts from her mind. But hardly had she taken two steps towards the Inn when she heard it again. Much louder this time.
She spun around and glanced at the forest with wide eyes, daring it to creak again. While she was challenging the trees, a gate, in the middle of the fence which she had never noticed before, caught her attention. It was covered with moss and apparently led on to a narrow dirt path, which carved its way straight through the thick forest.
Temptation and curiosity getting the better of Lady Bennet's adventurous niece, Elizabeth quickly pushed the gate and jumped back as it squeaked open.
What are you doing? Elizabeth scowled herself, Shouldn't you be heading back? What if nana has woken up? But her ladyship's niece would be restless until she had discovered the source of that noise. So, armed with weapon – or rather book- in her hand, our fearless heroine entered the forest.
It was very dark and rather damp inside. Elizabeth had to lift her dress a few inches to avoid it getting muddy. The skeletal trees which lined the track seemed to grow forever, extending their white twisted branches upwards towards the violet sky. Every now and then, she would have to stoop to avoid her hair getting tangled in some protruding branches. It seemed as if this route was not used anymore, for it hardly contained any tracks. A few bats flew past Elizabeth making her stumble over a broken twig. Arranging her skirts, she began to pick up her pace when all of a sudden, she heard the noise again. Pausing, Elizabeth held her breath and searched through the undergrowth with her darting eyes, but it was too thick to make out anything. Letting out a frustrated sigh, our determined heroine continued to walk.
After nearly a minute or so of plodding, during which period, Elizabeth's eyes had been focused on the ground, there being an ample amount of branches scattered about to trip on, she looked up to check where she was and froze in her boots. Hanging off a rope from one of the branches a few yards away was the dead body of a pig.
Elizabeth's mouth hung open but her throat was far too dry to allow any scream to escape. Also, she thought it would be unwise to attract any attention towards her by doing so. Instead, Lady Bennet's determined niece struggled to regain her composure and dared as far to approach the carcass. It was attracting a lot of flies and by the repulsive odour given off, it had to be rotting. Who could have done this and why? Anger overcoming her fear, Elizabeth covered her nose with her shawl and carefully made her way around the pig to resume her walk. Had the village boys done it as some kind of horrid joke for people who crossed this path? But then again, she doubted if anyone used this track… Lost in thought, Elizabeth turned around and looked at the ground directly below the pig and saw that it was covered with a pile of dead leaves. Was it then some kind of trap? Elizabeth had picked up a pebble and was about to throw it at the pile of leaves when all of a sudden she heard a noise. Looking up, nearly all her blood ran cold, for standing just a few metres away was a specter sight: a tall figure clad in a large floating cloak with a sword in his hand stood at the end of the path ready to drain Elizabeth's soul. Letting out a blood curdling scream, our fearless heroine flung her book on the ground and darted towards the gate. However, she was not able to make it very far for when she ducked to avoid hitting the carcass, she misplaced her footing.
"Look out miss!"
But it was too late.
* Sri Lanka (Sri Lanka was called Ceylon, before it won its independence in 1948.)
