Chapter 4

"I heard that a guest was coming to dine with you and your sisters today," Felton said as he stroked Duchess' nose. He turned to look at Lucy through the hair that fell into his eyes. "I thought perhaps you would choose to keep their company."

Lucy shook her head. Felton's gaze was piercing into hers and she tore her eyes away from his dark green ones. "I would hardly choose Caroline, Louisa and a Bennett girl over a day exploring the fields," Lucy replied with a smile. "And it was I who asked you to make time for me today; it would have been rude of me not to make our engagement."

Felton smiled. "I'm afraid such rules of propriety apply with gentle society, Miss Bingley, not with servants."

"Well, you behave like a gentleman so I feel inclined to treat you as one. I would rather not dine with my sisters and Miss Bennet. It is too painful for me to remember which of the Bennett sisters are admired in my household and which are detested."

"Is it so? I'm surprised you cannot tell one Bennet from another," Felton laughed. "But perhaps we had better get on, it seems as though it may rain this evening. May I?"

Lucy nodded and allowed Felton to help her up onto Duchess. His fingers were rough as he handed her the reins and she flushed red. Lucy watched him, amazed at the fluidity with which he mounted his own horse. Once he was comfortable, he turned and gave her a cheeky smile. "Ready, Miss Bingley?"

"Of course."

They rode through the countryside, and Lucy listened in awe as Felton described each and every field and hill in detail. He spoke about it with such passion and love that Lucy could not tear her eyes away from him. She did not say a word; she merely listened as he talked, and watched as his eyes shone with excitement.

"There is a small stream behind here," Felton explained, leading his horse through a grove of trees. Lucy was disappointed when the path was too narrow for them to ride side by side; she had quite enjoyed sneaking glances at him when he was too absorbed with the nature to notice. Reluctantly, she manoeuvred Duchess so she could fit through the gap behind Felton and his horse. They walked a few steps until Felton dismounted and walked back towards Lucy to help her dismount as well. She blushed when she stumbled and her hand landed on his shoulder for support. She had hardly noticed how strong his shoulders were.

"Are you well, Miss Bingley?" Felton asked her kindly, as she straightened up. The ground was covered in leaves and knobbly roots sticking up out of the earth. Lucy felt a burst of irritation.

"Miss Bingley is my sister," she replied suddenly. "You must call me Lucy."

Felton looked at her for a long moment. His green eyes stared into hers for so long that her cheeks flushed red and she wondered whether she ought to have kept silent. Was it so wrong to ask someone to refer to her by her name? She suddenly realized the implications of her words and the warmth of his rough hand in hers, which he had used to help her land on her feet. She waited silently and wondered what he would say.

"Miss Lucy," he said finally, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slightly boyish grin. His grip on her fingers loosened until his warm hand fell away from hers, and he turned around. "I hope you don't mind a bit of a walk, Miss Lucy. The horses will have a difficult time manoeuvring through the trees."

Lucy nodded and followed Felton further into the wood. Although she did wonder later, it never occurred to her in that moment that she was following a servant, a man she had known for a little over a fortnight, alone into an unknown wood. All she could think about was whether the heat in her cheeks had faded and if Felton had noticed their colour.

"I thought you might like this," he said with a smile as they reached a small, rocky stream that broke the line of trees. It was narrow; Lucy thought that if she lifted her skirts, she could easily leap over it. But the sight of the flowing crystal water and the small gurgling noises it made was very calming. "Would you like to sit?"

Lucy looked at Felton and nodded, smiling. He took her hand and helped her over to a large tree root where they both sat facing the stream. "This is beautiful," Lucy said with a smile. "How did you find it?"

Felton's smile dropped, and he lifted a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. Lucy felt the sudden urge to move closer and do it for him. He turned and looked at her. "I found it soon after I first started to work at Netherfield. I was… I was grieving my father's death and I would often ride out on one of the horses in the evenings to calm myself," he replied quietly.

"I'm sorry," Lucy whispered. It was the first time that Felton had mentioned his father and she felt a sudden burst of curiosity. But the look on his face showed that he had loved his father very much and she did not dare ask any more. She began hesitantly. "My father passed away as well. I was fifteen years old, when he died. We had a home out in the country but my sisters and Charles decided that we had better move to London. My father taught me to ride."

Felton smiled a little. "As did mine. You must have missed the country while you were in London."

"Terribly. There was no horse riding, no proper fields…. I wonder how I ever survived among those stone walls." She turned and saw Felton smirking at her. "Of course, it wasn't allbad. I did enjoy dancing at the occasional ball. Dancing can be fun, but it was painful to find a partner. I would have to wait until my brother Charles was unoccupied or accept the occasional dance of pity with Mr. Darcy."

Felton reached down to the ground and plucked at a twig. "You cannot mean to say that none of the gentlemen ever asked for your hand."

"No… I suppose not. But I can truly say that no man has ever asked for my hand a second time."

Felton laughed. "Are you such a terrible dancer, Miss Lucy?"

Lucy wondered whether she should feel insulted, but the spark in Felton's eyes showed that he was only being mischievous. Nobody had ever spoken to her in such an informal way; even her brother did not tease her so and Lucy flushed red again. "Perhaps I am. Although, it is more likely due to my lack of polite conversation. You see, I could never find anything to say to any of those men."

"There are plenty of things to say," Felton replied. "You could have started by telling them your dowry, surely that would have prompted them to ask for a second dance!"

Lucy laughed. There was something beautiful about the way everything he said was a surprise; it was not the same, routine dialogues that were spoken by all the other gentlemen she met. Perhaps she should have told Felton off for being so audacious, but she found that she could not. "I do not think that I should have wanted a second dance with such a man! I believe deep down, every woman wishes for a man who will marry her regardless of her fortune."

"And yet almost every woman wishes for a man with a fortune. Perhaps a man may marry you without knowing of your dowry, Miss Lucy, but should you ever marry a pauper?"

Lucy was silent for a moment. "My family should be rather disappointed."

"I asked if youwould ever marry a pauper."

"If he was a hard-working man and he loved me then yes, I should. But I should never find such a man. Any pauper who wished to marry me would be doing so in hopes of obtaining my fortune."

Felton shook his head, his hair falling further into his face. The corners of his mouth were still turned up and he shifted on the tree root so he could face Lucy completely. "I think what you mean to say, Miss Lucy, is that even if a man with no fortune should profess his love for you, you would never believe his love to be true. You would forever doubt it."

"I think I should know if a man truly loved me."

Felton smiled. "You have never been in love, Miss Lucy. I'm afraid it is not so simple."

"I see. You speak as quite the expert on such matters. Have you ever been in love?"

Felton was silent. He turned his gaze away from Lucy and smiled as he saw something in the distance. Slowly and carefully, he pointed towards a tree a few feet away from them. "I see the squirrels have noticed that we are here. Do you see that one, Miss Lucy?"

Lucy turned and spotted the small squirrel at the root of the tree, watching them on its hind legs warily. It was an adorable little thing. Lucy smiled. "Oh, it's so young! Do you think it would run away if I tried to move closer to it? I simply must see it better."

"There's an easier way." Felton reached into his coat and pulled out a handful of nuts. He gave one to Lucy and showed her how to hold it in her outstretched hand and stay very still. "Don't move. She may take some time."

Lucy waited patiently, aware of Felton's face hovering very close to her shoulder. She tried her best not to move and soon enough, the small squirrel began to inch closer to them. Lucy watched as it sprinted the last few steps, hurriedly grabbed the nut from Lucy's fingers and ran all the way back to the tree to sit and nibble on it. "That was wonderful! They are almost tame!"

"They are. They usually stay for a while longer, but I think they were not used to your presence."

"May I try again?"

Felton laughed and Lucy blushed as she realized how childish she sounded. But he was standing up from the root and holding out a hand to help her up. "Perhaps another day, Miss Lucy. I'm afraid that it is going to rain very soon and I would not have you getting wet and falling ill."

"I have never fallen ill from being out in the rain; but I suppose it would not do for my sisters to see me wet. Thank you for sharing this place with me, Felton."

Felton smiled. "It was my pleasure."

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(Present)

Jane and Elizabeth both stared at Miss Lucy as she paused. They could not believe that the reserved and antisocial sister of Mr. Charles Bingley could have been roaming the fields of Hertfordshire with Netherfield's head groom. Who would have thought her capable of something quite so scandalous? Jane felt a surge of compassion for the girl. Although her story had not quite been finished, she could imagine what had happened next.

"You fell in love with him," said Jane quietly. "That horrible groom saw your innocence and he chose to prey on it. Oh, that such people exist in the world!"

Elizabeth nodded. Her wariness of Miss Lucy Bingley had been replaced with an odd sense of pity. After all, how different was she from girls like Georgiana and Lydia who had been manipulated by scheming men? No doubt the groom had seen his chance of a rich and innocent young girl and taken it. "Miss Lucy, I pray you will not feel ashamed," Elizabeth said, reaching out to take Lucy's hand. "Any man who would take advantage of you and take you into the middle of the woods alone is vile and –"

Lucy removed her hand from Elizabeth's sharply. Her eyes were red and tears were beginning to brim in them. She shook her head. "I thank you for your concern, but I wish you would listen to the rest of the story before you pronounce judgment on either myself or Felton. For I am not as innocent as you may believe…."

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