Page 17 of Master of Netherfield
“But I want to learn to read too Papa!” Lydia exclaimed. “If Kitty...”
“Lydia,” Mrs Bennet called. “Come here dear.”
Mr Bennet was pleased that his wife was taking their youngest in hand–the baby would always remain special to his wife, but she must not be allowed to grow up spoiled.
“Now, off to bed with you,” Mr Bennet told his daughters. “Allow your Mamma and I with a few moments of silence before bed.”
Mrs Bennet watched Jane and Elizabeth guide Kitty, Lydia and even Mary above stairs to undress and tumble into bed while her husband left for his library. He returned in a few minutes with a tray holding two thimbles of sherry and a book.
“I brought you a sherry, my dear.”
“Thank you, Thomas. That was very kind,” Mrs Bennet replied as she lay aside her sewing to take the small glass. Mr Bennet returned to his chair beside the candles and said, “I thought you might enjoy a few of these poems.”
Her face bright with pleasure, Mrs Bennet resumed her sewing as she listened to her husband reading aloud.
**++**
“Lizzy, would you tell us one more story?” begged Mary.
The nursery door opened, and Jane slipped into the familiar room with her sisters.
“May I join you?” she asked. “It is very lonely in my room.”
“I wish I had a room by myself,” Mary sighed but she slid over as all of the sisters gathered on a single bed to hear Elizabeth spin the tale of King Richard’s cousin travelling through Sherwood Forest.
Kitty asked, “Is the cousin as handsome as you say?”
“I thought Maid Marion loved Robin Hood,” Jane observed.
When Mr and Mrs Bennet retired about stairs, they found their daughters all in one bed, the two youngest asleep as the three older ones still talked. Mr Bennet carefully moved Kitty and Lydia to their own bed while Mrs Bennet tucked Mary into her bed and then allowed Jane to share Elizabeth’s bed. They extinguished the last candle in the nursery and closed the door leaving five sleepy heads safely tucked intobed for the evening.
**++**
Chapter 8.A Meeting in Netherfield Wood
With her father’s book of poems under one arm, Elizabeth walked across the pastures and fields, through the woods to a pleasant clearing where a downed tree provided a sunny seat. Her head in the shade, Elizabeth set about memorizing a poem to recite for her family after supper that evening. An hour passed quietly with the songs of many birds her only companions.
“I believe I have found the outlaw in my woods again,” announced a deep voice from behind the girl.
Elizabeth jumped from her seat on the log and the book fell to the ground. Turning around, she found herself faced with the big horse and his tall rider she had threatened with her bow and arrow only the week before.
“King Richard’s cousin, you have returned!”
“King Richard?” the man asked but then he smiled, remembering their last conversation. “Yes, Richard is my cousin. And you must be a sprite who lives among the trees?”
“I...” Elizabeth began to say before she remembered her book. Quickly retrieving it from the ground, she moaned when she saw that a page had torn when the book fell to the ground.
“What has happened, miss?” the man asked as he quickly dismounted and dropped the reins to the ground before approaching the young girl. From her clothing he knew she was not the daughter of one of his tenants and certainly not a merchant’s daughter with a book in the woods. He took the book–a recent printing of poetry that he had hoped to obtain for his library.
“And are you playing Robin Hood today?”
“No, I was memorizing a verse to repeat for my family tonight.”
“Your family?” he asked hopeful of learning her name.
“May I have my book please? My father will be seriously displeased that I have torn a page.”
With the torn page carefully returned to the proper shape and placed within the book, the gentleman returned the book to the young girl.
