Back at Longbourn. Where we find the Bennet family preparing their departure.
Chapter 11: Behind enemy lines
Hertfortshire, Longbourn, thursday august the sixth 1801
Sergeant Kervadec was exhausted. Exhausted and rather angry.
They just arrived after a night of strenuous riding in the English countryside.
And they arrived too late.
"We could force them" said Kennedy, his Irish second in command. "I'm quite skilled in forcing Englishmen to do my biding..."
"This is her family" grumbled Kervadec. "Even ol' faithful Irish henchmen such as you would not survive his bad temper if what we are going to do shatters his courting..."
Kennedy could only shot a dark look toward the carriage people --servants probably, slaves of the Goddamned English Gentry-- were charging.
"Why couldn't he fall in love with a beautiful Irish wench? We hoped that Maureen would do the job. Unfaithful lout!"
Kervadec could only laugh.
"Between a beautiful, tame, blond English girl and a volcanic, crazy, red haired Irish girl, I would have chosen the blond as well. And so should he. We want him to find a soothing wife, not a trigger for his own personal powder-barrel!"
Kennedy turned in his saddle and looked at him.
"So what do we do?"
"We go in! No choice... We have orders, have we not?"
"Mr. Bennet... I believe we have a problem..."
Hill just entered his study as he was just signing the letter for Elizabeth. He smiled. In fact it was a letter for the Darcys. Or hopefully soon to be...
"Let me guess, the French just arrived" said he with a smile.
A man entered his study and Mr. Bennet just knew that his little joke was no longer amusing.
"Sorry to intrude" said the black-haired unshaven armed-to-the-teeth stranger. "I have something of a letter for you..."
And his Irish brog was unmistakable.
Mr. Bennet stood up and took the letter handed by the dark looking man.
Another one came into the study and closed the door just in front of Hill.
"He speaking for us..." said the new comer with a heavy French accent. "Better English than I. Not bad spelling but awfully recognizable accent. Better him..."
He went to the best armchair, sat in it, put his cap on his eyes and, a minute later, was happily filling the study with his light snore.
The Irish pointed a thumb toward the Frenchman.
"Sergeant Kervadec. He commands our scouting troop and we rode all the night. The others, outside, are, for the most part also sleeping. We will need it. We go back as soon as possible."
"Go back where?" asked Mr. Bennet.
The Irish pointed at the letter.
"Perhaps it's explained in the letter. If not you'll see when we arrive..."
Mr. Bennet raised the letter and broke the seal. Curious seal. Four intertwined letters PPRF.
"What's PPRF for?"
"Premier Proconsul de la République Française" answered the Irish. "He is the man who's in command of this cleansing expedition..."
He smile a little more. A very threatening little smile.
"He is also the man who will smash the English garbage and give the Irish people the opportunity to slit the throat of all the English Masters who feed on Irish slaves..."
Mr. Bennet had some difficulties to smother his smile.
It would have triggered a nasty reaction. And he was in no mood to fight within his study against a revengeful Irish soldier of fortune.
He quite liked the Irish. Never smooth and never tame... Best friends you could ever get. Worst enemies, too...
But in a fight no one's better to cover your ass
He opened the letter and began to read.
Dear Mr. Bennet,
This letter will probably be a surprise for you and you will, without a doubt, wonder why, I, the French commander in chief of the invasion army, have decided to write to you, a perfect stranger.
The answers are awaiting you here in Rosings where your daughters Jane and Mary, are lodging at the Hunsford parsonage under the roof of Mr. And Mrs. Collins.
I sent you my men in order to ask you if you would agree to join your daughters and wait with them until I can call on you. I would have sent them to your estate but I have a few thousand troops who are moving in the area they would have to cross. And, as I write these words I'm unsure how many English troops are roaming that same stretch of Land. Here in Rosings they are in French territory or, from your point of view, behind secured enemy lines. And in perfect safety I give you my word on it...
My men, if you should decide to join your daughters, will escort you to Hunsford.
I hope to see you very soon.
Yours
Geoffroy d'Arcy First Proconsul of the French Republic
Mr. Bennet looked up and in the eyes of the soldier --sergeant-- standing in front of him.
"You know what's in this letter?"
"Hasn't read it to us. But gave clear orders..."
"I'm to come with you!"
"If possible and willing..."
Mr. Bennet took a deep breath and stood up.
"How many men do you have with you?"
There was an hesitation there.
"I could go outside and count and then add six or eight to count those men you placed around the estate and along the roads coming here..."
"Twenty four..."
"Well, that means two squads, am I right?"
He nodded.
"Well, then that's what we are going to do!"
"Is everything aboard?"
Mr. Bennet took a last time his "last" daughter in his arms and squeezed her like never before.
"Papa, what's the matter? We are in no danger, are we? Not with these stout fellows in charge of guarding us."
"In war, one never knows, Kitty. But I'm quite satisfied that my friend Kennedy was free to answer my biddings. With him and his men you'll have much better safety. I see no highwaymen foolish enough to affront such mean looking young fellows..."
"We got no sleep last night, Edward" said Kennedy. "You'd be as mean looking as us..."
"Wasn't a complaint, wasn't a complaint, my friend. The meaner, the better!"
One last time he kissed his Catherine and went inside in search of his wife. The Gardiner children and Maria, their maid, were already in the carriage and since the Hills had refused to quit the estate, Mrs Bennet was giving last unnecessary instructions to their loyal retainers.
"It's time, dear! What you forgot, I'll provide. Don't be afraid..."
Mrs. Bennet gave a last look to her kitchen and than embraced both faithful old servants.
"Lizzie is going to be Mrs. Darcy, Hill! Mrs. Darcy! Half of Derbyshire and ten thousand a year! I'm so proud of her..."
"Don't forget, Mrs Bennet" teased he. "Nothing is done. She had already refused him once. My Lizzie is of a stout stuff. Could say 'no' a second time if he don't behave!"
All colors vanished from his wife's happy face.
"She won't do that, would she? Dear, It's half of Derbyshire! Who would refuse half of Derbyshire?"
"Nobody but our Lizzie, dear, that's sure. We raised one honest and not greedy young girl, there. We can be proud of us..."
"Once is quite enough to prove one's honesty, Mr. Bennet! Hopefully, this time, with half of Derbyshire just under her nose she will forget honesty and see reason!"
If the man don't agree with her, I doubt it...
"You're right, let's hope they have found an agreement and that when they receive my acceptation, you'll have nothing more to do than organize her wedding!"
Immediately the smile was back.
"Mrs. Darcy, Hill. I'm to be mother of Mrs. Darcy! What a wonderf..."
She went out and Mr. Bennet smiled toward the Hills. They were already here at the estate when he came home from his army stunt with a much younger Mrs. Bennet. Hill's mother was caretaker and his wife's father coachman. And never had they lost a day of service.
"Hopefully we will be back, Hill. If not, take care of everything and do what you can to assure the survival of the house. The rest we will be able to repair. But the house of my youth I would regret, even if it goes to the Collins..."
"What if Miss Elizabeth rejected the Mr. Darcy a second time?"
"I don't think that's a risk. Such a proud man would not have written without a very high hope to get my daughter. No, Hill, I do believe that the financial problems my daughters would have had after my death are behind us..."
He looked at the letter he was still holding.
"And if I am not misguided, there could be another surprise coming from the south!"
The Hills looked at each other with fright in their eyes.
"The French?"
Mr. Bennet could only burst out in laughter.
"As you say, Mr. Hill, As you say. The French..."
The Hills shared a puzzled glance. From time to time, their old man was really quite crazy!
Finally they were all in the carriage.
Kitty bent one last time through the door and give him a farewell kiss.
"You'll be prudent, won't you?"
He smiled at her.
"Of course, I will be."
He paced back.
"Look at your old man, Catherine. Do you really believe there's a hero hidden somewhere within this old carcass? I was no hero when a young man, it's too late to begin at my age!"
She bit her lips in a very unwomanly fashion.
He said nothing.
"You could come with us. No need to stay here... I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you all, dear. But someone must stay here to await their return, isn't it? What would they think of us if, returning, they find that we all fled North?"
Mrs. Bennet's head appeared behind their daughter.
"They would perfectly understand that you were wanted in the North to give your daughter to Mr. Darcy. It's the way it's done. I love my brother very much, but I do believe it is the father's role to bring the bride to the altar, not the uncle's!"
Mr. Bennet paced back a little more.
He knew that his wife had not been always the fool she became a few desperate years ago.
And the old cunning was showing. She suspected something.
Time to defuse the bomb.
"Don't you believe something foolish on my part, dear! The reason I stay is obviously because I refuse to leave my study. Even if Pemberley's library is as fabulously rich as the rumors say, it's still not my home! I stay where I belong and as soon as I got my daughters back, I'll follow! That's a promise!"
The suspicion in her eyes did not vanish. But she chose not to insist. They had a long way before them and the time was running away.
Kitty was not quite as reasonable.
"Rumors say the French came ashore in Brighton. That's were Lydia was. It could be..."
He refused to let her say the words...
"Not even Frenchmen would be foolish enough to come ashore at the very point where the English main force is bivouacking. They came ashore, that's for a sure, but probably near Dover or Ramsgate. Where they had the least distance to cross. Don't forget that the Navy was watching them..."
He shot her his most confident smile.
"If rumors speak of Brighton, it's probably because it's the last town still resisting on the coast. People always make confusions like that when they are under stress. And what greater stress than an invasion?"
He lifted his arms.
"It's time, dears, please don't waste more time worrying about me! I'll be the least in danger of us all. Don't forget, I'm staying safely at home in the most forlorn little village of all England. The French will bypass it without even seeing it..."
He made a sign to young Hill who was the coachman of the carriage and with a slapping of his whip, the carriage started.
Kennedy who was at his side gave him a contemptuous look.
"Like all Englishmen, you're a born liar. Shame on you!"
And, on those words, he mounted and followed the carriage.
His twelve men followed him.
Ten minutes later he was awakening the sleeping beauty in his study.
He was wearing an outfit he hadn't worn for years and two pistols nobody knew he possessed were in their holsters at his belt.
"Hmmm?" said the French while awakening.
"We leave to Rosings and we leave immediately" said Mr. Bennet in his best French. "You believe you'll be able to do it?"
The sergeant stood up and got hold of the bottle of Port. He took a huge sip.
"We will have to stop in around three hours to let my men get an hour's rest. But, if we are lucky enough not to encounter English troops, we will be in Rosings late this evening."
"If such an encounter happens, you'll let me speak" said Mr. Bennet.
"And why would I do such a thing?"
"Because you obey to orders, don't you? And don't make the mistake to believe you're still in command. As long as we are in English Country, I'll give the orders, is that clear?"
Kervadec looked at what was, till now, a funny old man.
No longer.
He had five war campaigns in the bones and he knew when seeing a tough and experienced old officer.
And this one was exactly that.
He nodded.
"I'll get my horse and we ride. Send two men half a mile in advance. Not further. Would be too dangerous. We stay on the roads and we take the direct route."
He turned to walk through the door where he stopped and looked over his shoulder.
Directly at Kervadec!
"Which one?"
The sergeant immediately understood what he was meaning.
"The blond one..."
The old man made a face.
"Feared as much!"
Next chapter: Lydia's last ball