Page 1 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
Chapter 1 Master of the Beast
Lambton, 13thJuly 1801
Elizabeth
“It is a lovely summer’s day, excellent for travelling, and the roads are in very good condition.”
Francine Bennet was giddy with anticipation and had not stopped talking since they left Derby. Elizabeth worried that Uncle Gardiner regretted inviting both her and her loquacious mother to accompany him on such a long journey. She glanced up at him and was relieved to see a benevolent smile gracing his countenance. He was too happy to feel any perturbation, regardless of the provocation.
“And for such a good cause too.” Her mother sighed, looked significantly at her daughter, and clasped her hands to her bosom. “I remember when your father proposed to me. I was shocked that the handsome and astute owner of Longbourn had even noticed my existence. He was so heartbroken that I worried for him, as did Sir William, though he had not yet received his knighthood and was only plain Mr Lucas back then. But regardless of their rank, the entire neighbourhood embraced him and tried to comfort him as best we could, did we not, Brother?”
Mr Gardiner nodded solemnly.
“I had no idea he was singling me out as his future wife, but one day he fell to his knees and begged me to end his suffering and agree to marry him. I was speechless for such a long moment that he felt it incumbent upon himself to declare his ardent feelings. And then—he made me promise to never change.”
Elizabeth laughed and thought wryly that her father must have long since repined discouraging her mother’s silence. She sighed and hoped that she too would one day be so madly in love. It must be with a prince, or at the very least a lord, who rode a shiny white stallion with gold reins and owned a property far away from Longbourn. She would not mind travelling quite an extensive distance, even to the continent—about which she had only read but never visited. Though the Midlands had much to offer as well, she imagined that France or Greece must be infinitely superior.
“Lizzy!” her mother admonished. “Are you wool-gathering? We are here, look.”
Mrs Bennet pointed out of the window, and sure enough, they had arrived at a busy inn.The Rose and Crown,she read on a sign above the door.
“Is she here?”
“No,” her uncle chuckled. “She is at the parsonage, but we shall see her later. We need a good dusting and cleaning before we meet my future wife.”
“Yes, of course, Uncle,” Elizabeth agreed demurely, though washing her face was not what first sprang to mind when she stepped out of the carriage.
Farther down the lane, by the smithy, stood an impressive horse chestnut tree beckoning her to conquer it.
“I can see the direction of your thoughts, Lizzy, and there will be no tree climbing while we are in Lambton. What would your future aunt think of us if we allowed you to run wild as you do at home? Oh no, we are to make a good impression on the fine lady so that she does not jilt dear Edward.”
“Certainly, Mama!”
Elizabeth had not thought of it in that way and was heartily ashamed of her inclinations. It would not do to destroy her uncle’s happiness, now that he had found a young miss he wanted to marry. She only had one aunt, but Mrs Phillips favoured her sweet and well-behaved sister Jane. If there was any justice in the world, Miss Cavendish would be adventurous and prefer small but courageous and boisterous girls.
“Oh, let the child be, Francine. She has been cooped up in the carriage for nigh on three days. Lambton is a small, quiet town and perfectly safe. I say we let her explore a little round the premises while we make the arrangements with the innkeeper.”
“Oh please! May I, Mama?”
Mrs Bennet frowned but must have realised the advantages of letting Elizabeth release her pent-up energy before she was required to sit still at the vicarage.
“You may, but only within the boundaries of the inn. Just the garden and the courtyard, mind you.”
“I solemnly promise,” the nine-year-old avowed with a serious mien.
“Keep an eye on her, will you?” Mrs Bennet mumbled to their driver, who was leading their horses towards the mews.
Elizabeth heard the driver’s deep sigh as she watched her mother and her uncle Gardiner enter the inn. Only when they were out of sight did she allow her eyes to roam the adventures on offer. The street was tempting, with a teahouse nearby, but she had promised not to venture that far.
The garden was small; not much more than a few shrubs and a bench. She watched the mews, where a fine-looking carriage was being harnessed for departure, but that was not what caught her eye. Behind the conveyance and beyond the mews was an enclosure where something white and shiny beckoned with joyous neighs. The driver, who was supposed to watch her, had disappeared to tend to her uncle’s horses.
Elizabeth walked round the inn and espied the most magnificent beast she had ever seen. Charlotte Lucas had a white cat, but that was nothing compared to the impressive white horse that was fit for a king. Besides, the cat was deaf, and the horse was not. She could tell by the ears that were pinned back against its head.
She approached, and the horse made a funny face, wrinkling its nose and baring its teeth as if it were attempting to smile but could only muster a grimace. Elizabeth laughed, stopped at the gate, and looked about. The horse was alone in the field and stood at the opposite end regarding her with big sorrowful eyes.
“Are you lonely, dear horsey?”
The steed nodded by throwing its head up and down. It must be horse language for an invitation, she reckoned, and climbed up onto the top of the gate—it was not a tree, so she was breaking no promises. The horse stamped its hoofs impatiently in an obvious invitation for her to proceed. She jumped off the gate and tumbled into the soft grass, earning her green stains on her dress that her vigorous brushing spread wider rather than removed. She sighed as she got to her feet whilst imagining the scolding she would receive.
