Author Note: Well you all picked that like a dirty nose :P Yes, our mysterious rider was indeed Fitzwilliam Darcy. I hope you enjoy meeting him in this next scene.
As always, please let me know if there are any anachronisms I should be aware of. Please excuse any typos or grammar slip ups. This is the rough draft, so there are bound to be some. Happy reading!
Fitzwilliam Darcy had risen before dawn and ridden his horse hard to make the journey from Rosings to the small town of Meryton where his closest acquaintance, Charles Bingley, was to be married. Why his friend had chosen such an insignificant location for his nuptials escaped Darcy. In his letters, Bingley had painted the town as quaint and charming. Darcy suspected that opinion was coloured not only by Bingley's usual amicable nature, but also by his most severe admiration for Miss Bennet, of whom he'd also written glowing testimonials.
Regardless, Darcy he was grateful for the reprieve from his interfering aunt and petulant little sister. Considerable time and resources had been necessary to mitigate the damage to young Georgiana's reputation, and by consequence the Darcy name, following her foolishness at Ramsgate this past summer. Darcy would have thought his sister grateful for his assistance, but at the tender age of fifteen, she failed to recognise the seriousness of the situation she'd faced.
As he raced towards the parish church, Darcy was surprised by the number of people milling around outside. Perhaps Bingley hasn't overestimated his intended's esteem. His friend's bride must be held in high regard to draw such a crowd of well-wishers. He directed his horse to the nearby stable, giving the stable-hand a generous number of coins to ensure the care of the beast.
As an afterthought, he dropped a few more coins in the man's hand. "When you've seen to my horse, send a man back along the road." He gestured in the direction from which he'd come. "A carriage was stranded and may need assistance."
"Aye, sir." The man took the horses reins and led it away.
Darcy pulled the watch from his pocket. The fob had belonged to his father, and was one of the few items Darcy kept with him always. A reminder that time was not to be taken for granted. His father held great plans for the future of Pemberley, but it was a future for their family's vast estate he'd not lived to see.
Darcy vowed not to make the same mistakes. He had already implemented many of his father's plans for their estate, working tirelessly over the years since the man's death. The effort he'd placed into securing their future made his sister's intrusion on his plans to spend time with Bingley at his new leasehold even more frustrating.
Damn Georgiana and her childish tantrums! Could she not see that all he did was to ensure her own future would be secure?
Of course, Darcy placed no blame on the girl for the precarious situation in which she was found. He could understand the sweet girl he had raised being taken in by the false platitudes of the steward's unscrupulous son, who had likely preyed on her good nature and memories of their shared childhood.
Indeed, Darcy understood it was his own ineptitude, his personal failure in adequately assessing the woman in whose care he'd left his sister, that had led to his dear sister's reputation being placed in peril.
He shoved the watch back into his pocket and strode towards the church doors. The giggles from local children playing took his mind from the frustrations of a teenage Georgiana to fonder memories of his sister; back to when being her guardian despite being a young, single man had seemed a manageable task.
While he shared the responsibilities of her guardianship with their cousin, Col. Fitzwilliam had spent many of those years abroad with his military obligations. Darcy couldn't place blame for Georgiana's situation on his cousin's shoulders either.
What his sister needed was female guidance. That she still held so vehemently to her delusions of love, despite having Wickham's true nature exposed, spoke to the necessity of mature feminine influence.
Spending time with Aunt Catherine and their cousin, Anne, at Rosings was but a temporary solution. At first Darcy had taken her there for her own safety while he dealt with the threat of Wickham. Georgiana argued the placement, as he'd expected. She disliked Aunt Catherine as much as he did, but fortunately she'd been able to see past that dislike and accept the company of cousin Anne, of whom they were both quite fond.
Georgiana found comfort in the gentle manners of their cousin; a point that served to reinforce Darcy's need to find a suitable wife. Someone who could introduce her to society appropriately and, in the future, to potential husbands. Far, far into the future.
As much as they enjoyed their cousin, even Darcy could acknowledge that a prolonged visit with their aunt was a punishment far worse than the crime of being fooled by a skilled rogue the likes of Wickham. No, he wouldn't keep Georgiana at Rosing much longer. Finding a suitable wife was now a priority on his schedule.
Darcy shook his head as visions of the dark-haired woman by the side of the road filled his mind. She was the epitome of all that would be wrong for his sister. A young woman standing idly out in the road rather than remaining in the safety of the carriage showed a severe lack of both decorum and intelligence. If it weren't for Darcy's skilled riding, he was sure he would have struck her.
No, that woman would be entirely inappropriate. So why was he having such trouble removing the memory of her features from his mind?
Author note: Hmmm why indeed, Mr Darcy?
On a personal note, tomorrow my kids go back to school after their summer holidays. I'm very much looking forward to getting back into a regular writing routine. Fingers crossed that the creative side of my brain gets on board with that idea too!