Setting a nice pace towards the Drummond estate, Darcy feels quite content with their trip so far. They have accomplished their two goals already, getting Wickham promoted and settling Lydia's feelings somewhat. And they have had another lovely day all by themselves yesterday after church. Strolling along the beach, this time in the opposite direction, drinking coffee in a tiny fishing village, then strolling back along the escarpment, with a lovely view of the sea. Though spending a whole day in the company of Colonel Drummond is not Darcy's idea of time well-spent, at least Elizabeth will be there, and he will ride that magnificent stallion again. But first he will point out to their host that Fanny and Bob are an engaged couple and not under the stablemaster's or the butler's management, and that they should therefore be allowed to stroll through the public part of his park together.

'Why can't your servants be together in their spare time, Darcy? I don't think I understand the problem.'

That is a surprise. Don't they ever talk with their servants?

'Your stablemaster will not let any of his staff step into the house, ever. He barred Fanny from the stables, and he wouldn't let Bob go into the house. The other stablehands told Bob they had never seen it otherwise, so he didn't even try.'

'I know Kendrick is not that fond of his stablehands mingling with the house staff, and they do have their own common-room, but that's normal when one has a lot of staff, isn't it? They cannot all get along, can they? But the stablehands who don't have families to go home to need to go into the house to sleep, I can't imagine your driver not being allowed to go inside when our own staff have their rooms there.'

How can he not know about the little sleeping cubicles in the attic of the large, antique barn?

'It's true, Colonel, your stablehands are not allowed in the house, they dine in their own common-room and they sleep in the attic of the barn. Have done so since before you married Mrs Drummond.'

'They sleep in the barn and never go in the house? I can't believe it! But I promise you I will look into it. Maybe I have been remiss in checking up on our staff. I'll ask Penelope how that is possible, she must know since she runs the household. I handle the finances and the hunter breeding program, but I am at the camp very often and of course she handled her estate really well before I came along. But for now I'll let the stablemaster and the butler know your servants can go where they please, stables or house, or the public part of the park. Come, let me show you your horse, Mrs Darcy, I think you'll like her.'

Darcy is really glad to have Elizabeth ride a strange horse here, the experience will make it so much easier for her to try her own new hunter. If everything goes well riding this unknown horse that is, but Colonel Drummond generally prefers calm horses so she'll probably be just fine. They round a large, old-fashioned barn and find themselves on the stable grounds, where the expected four horses have been saddled, but two are carrying a lady's saddle instead of just the one for Elizabeth. Apparently Mrs Drummond is going to accompany them, which is probably good from a social point of view, but will most likely prevent the ride from becoming vaguely exciting. Darcy is not the only one surprised by her presence, Colonel Drummond is, too, and he does not hesitate to confront his lady with her decision, 'Penelope, you do realise we'll be going pretty fast, don't you?'

Mrs Drummond does not look like a frightened middle-aged lady at all, on the contrary, she looks ready for anything with her tall, slim figure and her practical riding-habit and sturdy boots.

'I grew up on a horse, Theo, I can hold my own any day, riding. I just don't like hunting, the noise, the bustle. I prefer a nice, quiet ride through the country, meeting wild creatures in the silence of the moors. We're leaving the huntsmaster behind, I'll be our guide, I've been riding these moors since I was a little girl. Mrs Darcy, I've had my favourite saddled for you, her name is Bernice, I admit that's a bit of a mouthful for a horse's name but you'll find it fits her perfectly. Don't hesitate to keep her alert from the start, she can be a bit of a dreamer if you let her and then she'll stumble on something a toddler would manage to clear. And don't worry if your Bucephalus needs a little run now and then, Mr Darcy, our mares will not let him decide for them, they will mind us instead.'

'May I take just one hound, Penelope?' Colonel Drummond asks his wife plaintively.

'Don't you trust me to keep us safe and bring us home, Theo?' she replies with a laugh.

'I don't know, it just feels like something is lacking without a dog along.'

'All right, take one then, it will flush pheasants before they can startle your prize stallion. Are we all ready to mount?'

Elizabeth is diverted by Mrs Drummond's taking over the proceedings, she likes their hostess and is pleased she will accompany them, that much is clear. Darcy makes sure he assists Elizabeth into her saddle, not that she needs his help but this is a horse she doesn't know and if Darcy doesn't help her, someone else might, and she may not like a strange servant getting involved. When she is settled he mounts his own horse while Smith holds its head and says softly, 'I've ridden him myself, sir, it was like a dream come true. Thank you so much for speaking up for me.'

'I'm sure you will be the best groom for this horse, Smith, it was my pleasure to help both of you.'

Then they are off to the moors, following Mrs Drummond, who sits her horse as well as Elizabeth does. Mrs Drummond might like hunting better if she were to ride astride, maybe they should mention those split skirts, she certainly has the figure to wear one and to ride a more spirited horse astride in a hunt. Maybe she'd even like to ride the stallion, he has settled a lot, a few days without the castle-like saddle have done wonders.

Their route is different today, Mrs Drummond seems to prefer tiny paths straight through the forest and across the fields, entering and exiting the wooded patches through narrow slits in the thick brush surrounding them. The scenery is among the most beautiful Darcy has ever seen in winter, but they are forced to ride in single file, and the stallion she so aptly called Bucephalus is not used to dragging his large body through swishing leaves, he is getting a little skittish. Maybe he imagines wolves and bears lurking between the trees, of course he has little actual experience with the world, he is still very young.

'Are you all right, Darcy? Your horse looks like a coiled spring, ready to bolt.'

Colonel Drummond is obviously glad he is not riding his nervous beauty. Still, Darcy is not worried, he has two placid mares before him and a cool gelding behind him, Bucephalus will adapt. And he does, but when they finally emerge from the brush onto a large rolling hill, Darcy wants to allow him a few moments to let it out, it will make his ride so much more comfortable to not be sitting on a vat of powder with the wick burning.

'Is it safe to let him go for a few heartbeats?' he asks the lady of the house.

'Sure, this field is very well-maintained, no holes or stumps. By all means, let him work out the kinks in his head, he is young and inexperienced and I suppose Theo always uses the road to get to the moors, no trees or brush in sight. I'm sorry if my detour inconvenienced you, Mr Darcy.'

'No problem, it was beautiful. But he wants to run now and I am ready to let him.'

In fact, they all gallop up that long hill, Darcy can't see the others for Bucephalus has taken a head start, but he can hear them behind him. When they reach the top he circles the horse to see where the others are, Mrs Drummond in the lead, followed by Elizabeth and the colonel neck in neck. Mrs Drummond waves him on, the hill does slope down nicely to an even larger field, and he lets the restless stallion gain speed once more until it feels like they are flying together. But the stallion is clearly young, for all too soon he gets winded and has to slow down, allowing the others to catch up, Mrs Drummond taking the lead once more. Soon they are back to narrow paths and brush on both sides, but Bucephalus no longer startles at every leaf that touches his flank, nor every noise he hears to the sides. He continues in a firm stride, following his stable mates contently.

'That settled him, he doesn't have a lot of stamina yet.'

Mrs Drummond turns to face him, easy on a side-saddle, and observes, 'We're almost on the moors, then he can see all around him once again. You're an excellent rider, Mr Darcy, I know Theo was a bit disappointed in Bucephalus' performance but I have seen a superb hunter in action just now. I believe he has been trained to take obstacles as well, I hope we'll get a chance to test him today.'

They must ride together rarely, the colonel and his wife, or he would have known she is a superb horsewoman herself. Most men don't realise what a handicap a side-saddle is, they think their ladies are anxious or incompetent when they are merely hindered by their lack of a stable seat and two legs to give the horse directions.

'Maybe you should ride him yourself, Mrs Drummond,' he decides to speak his thoughts, 'not on a side-saddle of course, but astride. Elizabeth can explain how to construct a special riding-skirt to make that possible. Seeing you ride I think you'd truly enjoy a spirited horse, but are hindered by your saddle. I haven't dared to try a side-saddle myself, no matter how brave I look riding this young hunter.'

Mrs Drummond looks behind her again, not at Darcy but at her husband, who is riding tail with Elizabeth between Darcy and him. He looks very thoughtful, then replies, his voice carrying as far as one expects an officer's.

'I confess I thought both, Penelope. Though I realise now your horses have grown older and more sedate, they were indeed much more like my stallion when they were young and I certainly never noticed you being afraid of them. And the saddle, it's a bit like forcing a squad of infantry to charge a position walking sideways, isn't it? Damned dangerous and more than a little unfair. I wonder you didn't think of riding astride long before we were married, you were such an independent spirit.'

'Kendrick is old now and ready for retirement, but back then I wouldn't have dared gainsay him. He would not have allowed me to ride indecently. He was a favourite of my father's, I just couldn't get rid of him after twenty-five years of faithful service, that would have been thankless.'

'But you could have shown him his place. As could I. As can we, still. He's long overdue a lesson in station and he'll see things changed before I allow him his retirement. I'll not have people say he ruled the roost until he retired. Let's have another stablemaster and promote Kendrick to overseer of a revision of the stables, finding the stablehands rooms in the house, and a place in the common-room there. We'll have the common-room in the barn turned into more stalls, for my new line of hunters. I'm looking forward to riding together, Penelope, and if you dare ride Bucephalus, I'll try a side-saddle. This summer, on Bernice, in the paddock. My soldiers need me in one piece.'

Well, that is something Darcy would have loved to see, and to try himself. Bernice seems as steady as Daisy, and Peter would not have been around to laugh at him.

'Can you do that? Force the stablehands into the house?'

Mrs Drummond never knew differently of course. But the colonel does.

'Staff should know each other, Penelope, keeping them separated is ludicrous. Had I known it wasn't normal in genteel households I would have convinced you to put an end to it immediately. But I have been away too often on campaign, and at the camp. I never realised.'

Frankly, Mrs Drummond's tour of the moors is much better than the huntsmaster's. She seems to have an eye for quaint little paths and beautiful views, and she likes to set a stiff pace once there is some space to spread out. Trotting and cantering is very good for Bucephalus, he'll lose his excess energy but not his head. They even spot some wildlife in this part of the moor, and Mrs Drummond warns her husband, 'Don't even think about it! You're not going to murder all the wildlife here, there must be some place where the game is safe, to make more deer, and more quail, and more of everything else living here. It's my sanctuary, where the animals aren't scared off by beaters and packs of hounds. Your huntsmaster doesn't know it's here, and you will not tell him.'

'I wasn't planning to, I love it here!' he protests.

But Darcy knows better, a sportsman can't help himself, without such a promise he will try to find the spot and hunt there. Mrs Drummond knows, too.

'Promise me, Theo.'

Though still riding along, her husband bows before his wife's steadfastness and promises, 'I will not try to find this place to hunt here. It'll be a sanctuary.'

When they return, Darcy sees the old stablemaster coming towards them, he's in for a shock, but most likely not today. He takes his master's horse, which is of course useless since Colonel Drummond has seen action five times, he knows how to control a horse and dismount at the same time.

'I'm good, Kendrick,' he comments this time, 'you can take the horse when I'm done with him. And Kendrick?'

'Yes master?'

'The mistress and I would like a word with you, let's say tomorrow, we'll be busy today. We have an important task for you just before your retirement. We'll tell you all about it tomorrow, at ten, in my study. Thank you, Kendrick, that will be all.'

Darcy can see it isn't all for Kendrick, he was probably going to complain about Bob and Fanny crossing the sacred boundary between stables and house, but even the old stablemaster recognises a dismissal when it's this final. Smith takes the stallion's rein, but not before Darcy hands it to him. He is way too young to be stablemaster, he cannot yet be seventeen years of age, but still Darcy would hire him for his own horses any day.

'When you ride him, Smith, be aware he is not used to riding in closed woods, he gets skittish. Take someone else along on a steady horse.'

The boy looks abhorred and observes, 'The stablemaster will not let me out on this valuable horse all by myself, sir. I tried him in the paddock, as you did. And then Williams came along on the master's second favourite, a tall mare. He said a stallion would stay close to a mare to guard her. Williams is all right, though he is old. You know he's sweet on one of the maids, but the stablemaster won't let them see each other. But how is he going to find a girl when he's at work all day and sleeping in a hayloft at night? My father works in a stables but they even dine with the family regularly. I wish I'd stayed there, my dad said I'd regret living anywhere else but what did I know? I only thought of beautiful hunters and a rich house. My father is important to Mr Miller, he knows a lot of bloodlines and he can see if a horse is sound.'

'Does this Mr Miller breed hunters, too?'

Smith laughs and regretfully admits, 'If he did I would have stayed, he breeds sturdy horses for the army. Word is you're going there this afternoon, Mr Darcy. You'll meet my dad, his name is Patrick Smith.'

'Does Colonel Drummond know your father works for Mr Miller?'

'I don't think so, Mr Darcy, I never told anyone here. I wanted to gain respect for my abilities, not flaunt my dad's success. And every third person around here is named Smith. Looks like your lady wife and the master want you, I'm sorry to talk so much.'

'Never mind, Smith, I thought it was interesting. You're good with horses, do you also have your dad's talent to see whether a horse is sound and suitable for its purpose?'

'I think I do, sir, but not I'm not as good as my father, yet. And he tried to teach me the lines, but I wanted to work with beautiful horses, not those ugly nags Mr Miller raises. They're smart, though.'

'It has been a pleasure to talk with you, Smith, and thank you for helping Bob with my team.'

The boy's eyes sparkle, yes, thoroughbreds are even better than hunters.

'You really need some new dresses, Miss de Bourgh, they're starting to become too tight now you've gained so much weight. I could lay them out once but it'll show, and anyway, your new dresses look so much better on you, it would be a waste of time.'

Dora is right, Anne is starting to outgrow most of her wardrobe. She allowed Dora to throw out the blood-stained dress of the night Nick was beaten without trying to save it. It was ugly even when Anne got it, she just didn't care.

'I know, Dora, it's hard to imagine it's been just three weeks. Are you still happy here? No homesickness for Kent?'

'Oh no, Miss, I love the big city. If you get married and hire a real lady's attendant, I think I'll stay. Maybe Simon or Mrs Annesley can help me find a new place.'

Dear Dora, as if she is only good enough for a skinny country girl.

'If I get married, Dora, I'll keep you, and we'll move up in the world together.'

For of course Dora is thinking of Frederick, and marrying him would mean diving headlong into the fastest maelstrom of society. Doing such with a girl's maid would be foolishness, but Simon will be there to train her. To train them both.

'It will work out just fine, we'll learn together. You don't see me with one of those dragons my mother employs, do you? They'd boss me half to death once over. No-one is ever going to tell me what to do again, I've had more than a lifetime's worth of that.'

Now Dora shows she is no fool, 'But Miss, if you get married, your husband will expect you to obey him!'

Jaw set, Anne tells her the absolute truth, 'Then I will not marry him. I will be ruled by no man. Nor woman, especially not a personal attendant.'

'Well Miss, then I'd better improve my skills with laying out dresses, for I don't think Mr Manners will stand for his lady wife not obeying him. He is used to being in charge, I think. No rich husband for you, then.'

Dear Dora, daring to be cheeky! But doesn't she know Anne has plenty of money all her own?

'No need to slave over those horrible old dresses, Dora. I'm merely waiting for Mrs Darcy to return, to take me back to the shop where we bought my new ones. If you are right and I cannot marry Mr Manners for fear of being ruled by him, I'll have to have nice dresses to attract other suitors. You can consider those an investment which will pay itself back.'

She doesn't believe it, she's not naïve, Dora.

'I was joking, Dora. I think you are mistaken about Mr Manners, not in general for he is bossy, but I think he does not expect to obeyed, not by his wife. He'd want her to be his equal. But you seem to forget I have plenty of money myself. I need not marry, I can buy a place in London and live off the interest of what is left of my fortune when I've paid for the house, and go to the theatre every night. But for now I prefer to live here, I like it here.'

'Living all by yourself would give your lady mother fits, Miss.'

It most certainly would.

'True, Dora, but living with Mr Darcy and being friends with his wife is almost certain to give her worse ones, so that is what I'm planning to do for some time yet.'

Dora gives up.

'At least I don't have to save those dresses, and you are so beautiful in those new ones. Maybe you could go to that shop with Miss Angelina and Miss Sophie, I seem to remember Mr Manners accompanying you last time, he must know where it is.'

Of course! And Simon knows, too. She is not going to give away Elizabeth's secret to Sophie and Angelina, and she is certainly not going to torture herself by being around Nick again, but she can ask Simon and Frederick to take her there. In a cab, for she suspects some gossip reporter to be lurking about the house and they should not find out where Elizabeth's fashion really comes from until that secret is revealed to scruffy little Mr Goodfellow.

'You are right, Dora, I need new dresses now, I'll find that shop and go buy me some. Will you come along, to learn from Simon and the owner of the shop? You'll have to keep it a secret, people think Mrs Darcy buys her clothes in France and they will not reveal the truth until the end of the season.'

'She doesn't buy her clothes in France but in that little shop? Please let me come with you, Miss, I have to see that!'

So Dora is a bit naïve after all, believing those ludicrous rumours about Elizabeth. But of course she has never met the adored Mrs Darcy, she has no idea who Elizabeth really is. Well, she'll find out soon enough once they return from their journey, and as soon as they meet Dora will know the difference between a public figure and a real person.

'Of course you can come, but do not expect anything grand or you'll be disappointed.'

Dora clearly does not believe a word Anne says, but that, too, is something she'll have to see to believe.

At the Blackwood mansion a few officers are now common visitors, except the one Nick would like to see the most. Mr Blackwood may rejoice in Angelina's catch, Ensign Stockford, who is a second son but reputedly with a rather sickly elder brother. He is not exactly handsome but good enough for Angelina, who will most likely not age very well, since she does resemble her beefy father more than her slender mother. Though Mrs Blackwood is starting to spread a little, but if Nick himself would drink so much spirits he'd be rollable. Though most people cannot tell the twins apart, Nick can see clear differences, and he has some hope Sophie takes after her mother. Externally, that is, for of course Mr Blackwood has the more admirable character of the Blackwood couple.

No news of Colonel Compton, though, and that saddens Nick. He would be the perfect match for Sophie, a chance for her to settle with a man who deserves her and to forget mooning over her servant, it's starting to get embarrassing. She is watching Nick, and the door to the attic, he suspects she knows about his hideout and fears and yet tries to catch him at taking some lady upstairs. Not to rat him out, Nick does not believe Sophie capable of such duplicity, but to be sure. To know. Poor Sophie. Fortunately she need not worry, she will not have to watch him lead a giggly or slightly nervous friend of Mrs Blackwood's upstairs. Mrs Blackwood will soon find her group of friends thinning significantly, for most of them find little entertainment in her slurred conversation or her preference for liquid treats with her coffee. They look forward to sneaking away after their visit, 'accidentally' meeting Nick on the stairs and following him to his little slice of paradise.

But several have already been found wandering through the halls and the servants' quarters, told by the cook, Nick's steady advocate in the household since he failed to prevent his nearly being killed by the butler, that Nick isn't well and to come back some other time. It's kind of him to keep the ladies warm for Nick, and more importantly, to cover for him so no-one finds out, but Nick cannot seem to care very much.

He just wants to find his own cubicle and go back to bed, to dream about his nights, and yes, also his days, with Miss Anne. He is not a complete fool, he knows she is not for him, he knows he will have to get over her eventually and move on with his life. But not yet. First he is going to feel all the love and yes, all the heartbreak. This may be the only time in his life he is ever going to fall in love totally and truly, and he is going to suffer every minute of it, and savour the memory of course.

Finding Sophie in the same state does not help, he cannot even be sure whether she is moping for him or for her colonel. Maybe the poor girl doesn't even know herself. They still visit Mr Fielding's concerts but the heart has gone out of their adulation for him. Angelina has her Ensign Stockford, Maria and Leonora are seeing their own officers, and Sophie is mostly sticking to Nick's side. He still buys their tickets, but only because he hopes to catch a glimpse of Miss Anne.

But she hasn't been to a concert for days, and he is pretty sure she is by herself at Mr Darcy's house while he and his wife are out of town and the rest are at the concert. Nick hopes she isn't ill, or abducted after all, but Mr Manners doesn't look like a man robbed of his fiancée. He is not worried, or sad, merely slightly amused whenever he spots Nick in the crowd. No, Miss Anne is avoiding Nick, most likely angry at him for despoiling her so coolly. She will never know there was nothing cool about it, Nick's heart is still raging with a fever he has never felt before. But it will pass, as her passion and anger will pass, and Mr Manners will be the gainer. A philanderer himself he will not mind so much that his wife has slept with another before entering wedlock. And he will be good to her, though not as good as Nick hoped the colonel would be for Sophie.

'Are you sure you are totally recovered, Fowler?' Felicity asks. 'You're rather quiet, and a little bird told me you have not been engaging in your usual exercise.'

'I'm fine physically, Felicity. Just a bit worried about the future. With the girls seeing their officers, I may be out of a job soon.'

She laughs, and sits really close to him.

'My father has a business near the docks. He can always use a man handy with a slapjack. And then we'd no longer be colleagues...'

Felicity! Who would have thought it of the little maid? It sounds as if her father is a smuggler or some other kind of criminal, and she is proud of it! And after him, rather seriously apparently.

'Thank you for the offer, Felicity, I may yet have to take you up on it. But I'd sooner bed a colleague than the boss' daughter. Have you any idea what trouble that may bring a fellow?'

She really likes him, and in the way he used to like his women, casually, with no aim to claim him. Too bad he isn't interested anymore. Or maybe he should just do it, give her what she wants, maybe it would help him feel better. For a few moments. Except then he'll feel even less worthy of Miss Anne. She loves him, she must. A little voice in his head sometimes reminds him she has thirty thousand, enough for two people in love to live happily ever after. But without her family, and without her friends, they'd throw her off in disgrace. And what if he reverts to his usual behaviour? He has never felt like this about a woman, what if it lasts but for a month? Or a year? He is not worthy of her. Still he will not give Felicity what she wants, for if she does claim him, afterwards, he'll be in big trouble. And besides, he doesn't even want to, he can only think of one person lying next to him, stroking him with tenderness, not heat.

The memory of her gentle care when he was in such pain is so sweet, her innocent touch on his seasoned body, the way she comforted him while sating her own yearning to give someone love and receive some herself. The wonderment in her whole being when discovering this whole new world. She did not seem ashamed at all. Will he ever be touched that way again?

'Nick Fowler, you're hopeless! What happened to you? No, who did this to you! You must be in love, and not happily. I'm not going to speculate who took your heart but I think it's a mean trick. You've always been some kind of hero to me, just enjoying love, no mooning and no claiming. Now you've fallen, try to not rub it in so much. Save the love-sickness for when you're alone in your cold bed and at least pretend to be a sensible adult when we're around. Whoever it is, I'm jealous. To bring a man like you down.'

She is right, he should take his feelings somewhere private. Getting up slowly, he drags his feet towards his own little room, to the bed where she gave him her pureness, he has long since forgotten the pain and just remembers the ecstasy.

'I'm sorry, Nick!' Felicity calls out after him. 'Please don't leave like that, I was mean when I should try to cheer you up. Here, let me make up a little.'

She takes his shoulders and turns him around, then offers an embrace. Before he realises what he is doing she is holding him close, her hand leading his face towards her shoulder. It's good to be held, he needs it, he will not cry or confess but he will relish the sympathy of someone he considers a good friend. Felicity smells good and feels good, and she caresses him lightly. But there is no heat, not from her either, and he feels some of the hurt lessen.

'Oh you poor thing,' she murmurs soothingly, 'you've got it bad, haven't you? They say that those who fall late, fall hard.'

Nick doesn't say anything, he is very close to confessing what no-one must ever know. Felicity doesn't care, she's not thinking of him but of herself, and in a funny way.

'Damn it, Nick, I was looking forward to catching you in the end, and now I'm feeling all sisterly and concerned.'

To prove it, she gives him two hearty kisses on his cheeks and observes, 'I suppose it must be hopeless or you'd get her, you reprobate. If you need a little comfort you can come back. I won't pry, I'll be your sister and tell you everything will be all right. I'd tell you she isn't worth it but I guess she must be or you'd just have tumbled her and forgotten all about her. Now take heart, big brother, who knows how the world may yet turn. Get to work, and you'll forget her for a few moments.'

That is sound advice, he has his duties and they will keep him from dwelling on wishes that never had a chance of fulfilment.

Lunch is great, and well-deserved after such a long ride on an unknown horse using a saddle meant for someone a lot taller than Elizabeth. Bernice is a dear, though, and if Elizabeth dares to be very frank, a better horse than Daisy, a little more spirited and with lighter gaits. Maybe she has indeed outgrown poor Daisy, but that doesn't mean she will let Fitzwilliam sell her in exchange for a better horse, that would be so sad and ungrateful towards dear Daisy. After lunch they'll go to a stud-farm to look at some sturdy mares to match with the horse Fitzwilliam rode, apparently to offset that beast's nervous disposition. Fitzwilliam handled that skittish horse so well, she was so proud of him, riding such a beautiful creature with so little effort. But not everyone can ride like her beloved husband, most people would be afraid to have a horse like that, and it is a good plan to breed him to calmer mares. Maybe a little stronger, too, a lot of gentlemen are somewhat chubby, they can use a stronger horse that will not shy at anything.

Their visit to the farm will be interesting, but Elizabeth does wonder whether they shouldn't bring someone like Fitzwilliam's Mr Hugo, who knows horses like no-one else. Fitzwilliam has owned horses all his life, but as far as Elizabeth knows he has never raised them, or even trained his own. She just hopes they won't have to bear the company of the nasty old stablemaster, he disapproves of women in general and has been barely civil to herself and even to his mistress, Mrs Drummond. Elizabeth would not permit any servant to treat her like that, and she is glad that Mrs Drummond and the colonel finally seem to have caught on. Half the world's population are women and the old man should have been taught to deal with that a long, long time ago.

Of course the men talk of nothing but horses, and Mrs Drummond decides to give up on them and merely addresses Elizabeth on a subject she finds interesting.

'I paid a visit to our attics yesterday, Mrs Darcy, and they were a treasure trove of unimaginable proportions! My ancestors had a seafaring streak running through the family, I suppose that's why they settled so close to the coast. You won't believe what furniture, ornaments, fabrics and tapestries I've found. To think they were gathering dust up there for decades! I'm going to spend my afternoon, and many yet to come, on choosing the best pieces for several rooms I have already decorated.

And then I am going to imitate your sister and Miss Darcy only on a larger scale: I'm going to redecorate my saloon entirely and use it to receive my visitors. They will be stunned! Will you please convey your sisters my heartfelt thanks, and accept your share of the credit, since you thought to mention it to me?'

'That sounds really exciting, Mrs Drummond, can you describe a few pieces you found? And of course I'll tell Kitty and Georgiana all about it, they'll be thrilled to find someone as enthusiastic as they were. Most people thought they were crazy and didn't hesitate to tell them I'm afraid.'

Her hostess clearly expects the same treatment from her own connections, but she seems to care as little.

'I'd like to do better than that, Mrs Darcy. I hoped you might want to come with me to the attic some day this week and choose a real Persian rug for yourself and one for your sisters, to take home with you, as a thank you.'

'But Mrs Drummond, Persian rugs are priceless! You can't just give those away!'

A merry laugh from Mrs Drummond, and, 'Thanks to you I found a whole stack of them, literally a stack a yard and a half high, Mrs Darcy. I can easily spare you half a dozen, even if some in the stack will turn out to have been damaged by moths, but I think your husband will protest loading your beautiful little carriage with the extra weight. They're much heavier than they look, you see.'

'In that case I'll gladly accept your offer, Mrs Drummond. We did have some rugs in our attic, but they were not very spectacular, I suspect the Darcy ancestors have always been very unlikely to go on long voyages into the great unknown. And before I forget, my staff have also found some very unique pieces of jewellery in drawers and dusty boxes in rooms filled with old stuff. They made quite an impact in London when I started wearing them.'

'The French pieces! Priceless objects of superior workmanship, nigh on impossible to talk Parisian artisans out of, and barely affordable even for the likes of a Mr Darcy! You mean to tell me your maid found them in a drawer in some forgotten part of your house?'

Elizabeth nods, diverted by Mrs Drummond's flowery description of her ornaments, for the newspapers did use terms like those.

'Then you probably buy your dresses in a tiny little shop in some forgotten part of town where an as yet unsung genius designs and makes dresses even the French haven't discovered, yet.'

Mrs Drummond's air betrays she says this as a huge joke, she still thinks those dresses come from France, even if she has to believe the bit about the jewellery since Elizabeth's maid found the glass ones right in Mrs Drummond's backyard. Nonchalantly, Elizabeth remarks, 'It's in Cheapside actually. But you described the place perfectly.'

'You're not serious!'

'I am. We're going to make it public just before we move to Pemberley. The owner needs a little time to build up some stock to sell, and thinking I beggar my husband buying my dresses and my jewellery in France annoys his arrogant aunt, so we let the press and everyone else speculate until then. If you ever get to London, I'll show you. Most of it is ready-made, the clerks make a few adjustments on the spot.'

Shaking her head in disbelief Mrs Drummond cannot help laughing. 'That is a mighty joke, Mrs Darcy. We don't go to town that often, we have everything we need right here, but if we do decide to go next winter, we'll call on you.'

'We will be pleased with your company, I think you will like our housekeeper as well: she makes the most beautiful pieces of needlework I've ever seen. She's working on two showpieces right now, one for Pemberley, and one for our town house. Hopefully she will gain some customers when they are finished and on display, especially the one at Pemberley, since it's meant for the dining-room and that will be included in the tour of the house.'

'You have your estate open to the public?'

'It's how I met Fitzwilliam, well, how we reconnected, actually. It's a very romantic story, though it was mostly very embarrassing and puzzling back then.'

She tells Mrs Drummond about Miss Elizabeth Bennet en Mr Darcy, concluding with, 'So you see, I could never cancel those tours since one of them decided my life. I did get the dining-room included in it, it's very ostentatious and Fitzwilliam dislikes it for that, but I think it reflects the history of his family, and people will realise his ancestors spent all that money, he didn't. Except on the showpiece, that's our addition to an already opulent room.'

Since the men now want to leave, the ladies decide to meet again on Wednesday, a day before their departure.

'Thank you for lending me Bernice, Mrs Drummond, I really enjoyed riding her. I'll try to draw the riding skirt I use, I'm very certain you'll love riding astride. And if your stablemaster objects, show him whose ancestors built this great house.'

'I will, Mrs Darcy. I know a lot of our staff aren't very happy with the situation as it is, we'll remedy it soon. You're not taking Kendrick along today, are you Theo?'

'I was going to but I've changed my mind, he'll be a hindrance to my project, telling me your father wouldn't have approved and only a parvenu would come up with such a scheme, even though it's actually Darcy's and his birth is above all remonstrance. Besides, we can't put him on the box with Darcy's engaged servants. They'll murder him. Who are we promoting to stablemaster, Penelope?'

'Richards is second now, but he fawns on Kendrick. I'm afraid he won't do. I like Williams for the position. According to my maid he is the best man alive, though he doesn't have much to offer her in the shape of a home and an income. Let's change that.'

'So we'll take him along today?'

She nods. 'He knows horses. The boy does, too, but he is a bit young and inexperienced with anything besides horses. He needs to learn how to deal with people.'

Fitzwilliam has been following the conversation so far and observes, 'Do you know Smith's father is stablemaster for Mr Miller?'

'Patrick Smith is his father?' the colonel suddenly makes a connection. 'No wonder the boy is so cocksure. I thought he needed some relief of his attitude, I am an army man and discipline goes before responsibility. Had I known, I would have asked him nicely to show a little more respect. The son of Patrick Smith could never be a humble servant, that family is as independent as the Scots. They may even be Scots for all I know, this close to the border. Better take the boy along then, give him a chance to see his family. Do you mind sharing a space with one of them?'

This is directed at both of them, but mostly Elizabeth.

'No, not at all. He sounds like an interesting fellow, and you may want to talk with the older man, too, see whether he'll do as a stablemaster.'