Tale of A Bonnet: Darcy in Hyde Park

For this month, the theme at Austen Variations is Sonnets and Bonnets. I intended to write a poem, but that is easier said than done. I have a ghost of a poem written, but I think it will require more work before I can allow anyone to look at it.

So this is a choice like trick or treat. I must either give you a poem, or give you a bonnet story. The choice is clear. The piece needs no introduction, since it is a sketch I wrote specifically for the occasion, but which might very well be the start of a new WIP.

THE TALE OF A BONNET

Even in London, Spring was bursting at the seams, and the trees in Hyde Park were proudly displaying their pink and white ornaments. The ladies’ bonnets were trimmed with flowers as well, bobbing up and down in the breeze like the branches that surrounded them.

Spring was the season of lovers, and of those there were plenty. It was not the fashionable hour at the Park, but the warm weather had drawn out a number of couples. They were strolling around through the carpet of blossoms,  tossing up petals with their boots, and occasionally touching hands despite the watchful eyes of their chaperones. Darcy found himself wondering if he would ever accompany some young lady to the Park like this. It was highly unlikely. In time, he would no doubt find a suitable wife,  but he did not intend to make such a spectacle of himself. He did not imagine he would encounter anyone who could tempt him to do anything like this.

Meanwhile, he continued to ride at a sedate pace next to his sister Georgiana. The short trip from Grosvenor Square to the Park had made the fourteen-year-old girl jittery. Two foolish young gentlemen had run across the road right in front of her, and Georgiana’s horse Starling had been startled. It had taken considerable patience on his part to convince his sister to continue on her way, and to assure her that riding in the Park would be much more pleasant than negotiating the London traffic.

Georgiana, at his side, was silent, as she had been most of the time since she had bid farewell to the students and teachers at her school for the last time. She felt the parting strongly, he could tell, even if she was trying her best not to show it. There was nothing he could do to help her with the pain of the parting except to find small things to amuse her. It was what he had done throughout the years, such as when he distracted her as the physician bandaged her arm after she was injured trying to climb the apple tree. Or when she had fallen into a pond and arrived at Pemberley shivering and soaked through, embarrassed and worried that Papa would scold her.

Georgiana was looking unhappy, and her hold on the reins was too tight. He did not want to say anything that would sound like a reprimand, but he reached out a hand to gently release her grip.

“You are quite safe here with me, Georgiana,” he said, quietly. “You do trust me, do you not? I will not allow Starling to bolt.”

She laughed at that. “Starling will not bolt,” she protested. “He is too well-trained to do such a thing.”

“Then what are you worried about? Have you forgotten how to ride since going back to school?”

“No, of course not, Brother. One does not forget how to ride.”

“Do you remember how you used to win every race across the Park at Pemberley?”

She shook her head with a smile. “That was because you allowed me to win,” she remarked. “I was never fooled by it, but I pretended I did not notice that you held back.”

“So are you telling me that all my efforts were wasted?”

“They were not wasted,” she assured him, “they prompted me to improve. I asked the groom to help me practice. I hope one day to actually win.”

“Then when we return to Pemberley, we can race. Perhaps you may win fair and square this time.”

“I would like that more than anything,” she said shyly.

They fell into silence. It was clear that Georgiana was missing her friends. She would be fifteen in July, and it was time for her to learn how to run a household such as Pemberley. If she was to marry well, she would need to know those things. He wished he could have left her at school for another year, but learning how to manage a large house took time.

“Will you miss your schoolfriends?”

The small nod she gave him told him he was right about the cause of her unhappiness.

Just then, his old friend Harry Palmer approached them.

“Who is this beautiful young lady? Surely it is not little Georgiana! Miss Darcy, you are so grown up now, I would scarcely have known you.”

Georgiana was overcome with confusion. She blushed bright red and looked down at her hands, unable to say a word.

“Georgiana has just left finishing school. I have hired a companion for her.”

“Then you must send her to Ramsgate for the summer. It is where all the young ladies go after completing their schooling. My sister Arabella went there last year for three months. The fresh sea air did her a world of good.”

It had not occurred to Darcy, but if that was what many young ladies were doing, then it might be a good idea to give Georgiana the chance to meet others her age. When she eventually went to London for the Season, it would be easier if she was already acquainted with young ladies who were not at her school. It might also cheer her up to know that she still had a summer to enjoy herself before taking up her household duties.

Palmer did not linger. Once he was gone, Darcy put the question to Georgiana.

“Do you think you would like to go to Ramsgate, Georgiana?”

“I should like that very much,” she said.

“Then consider it done.”

They were passing under a low-lying branch. They ducked their heads and were about to clear it when a sudden gust of wind knocked Georgiana’s bonnet backwards and it tangled on the branch.

“Oh, no. Stop, William! I cannot move. Please help me untie myself.” She tried to tug at the ribbons to release the bonnet, but it held fast.

“Patience, Georgiana. It will not loosen if you keep pulling. Give me a moment to unravel it.”

Georgiana relinquished the sky-blue ribbons to Darcy’s control and sat unnaturally still as she waited for him to release her. The knot had become tight, and he was forced to take his gloves off.

It took only a minute to tease the knot loose and to untangle the bonnet from the tree. All would have been well if his glove had not slipped from his hold and made him careless as he caught it. Another gust of wind set the bonnet loose, and tossed it upwards, to bounce down to the ground, then, up in the air again.

“Oh, no, ” said Georgiana, “I cannot ride through the Park without a bonnet!”

Darcy went after it with his horse, but was forced to dismount after the bonnet made its way across the grassy area and threatened to tumble into the Serpentine. Darcy watched in dismay as he realized he would never reach it on time. He would not dive into the river, not in the middle of Hyde Park. He had no intention of emerging with a wet shirt.

Just then a young lady surrounded by a gaggle of children gave a cry. She raised her face to watch the bonnet as it floated above her in the air. She threw up her arms and jumped. The children around her screamed with excitement.

Darcy stared at the woman, transfixed by her glowing face. Her dark eyes were full of life, and her dark curls seemed almost alive, moving of their own accord. She looked like she was flying on the breeze. He watched, spellbound, as her hand reached out and trapped the ribbon between her long fingers.

Everything that must go up, must come down. Did not Sir Isaac Newton advocate that theory? Having taken hold of the ribbon, it was almost as if the weight of the bonnet itself was too much. The breeze that held her up could no longer sustain her.

Darcy’s sense of wonder changed to alarm as he realized she was about to fall — heavily — onto a felled trunk of a tree. Without conscious volition, his body propelled him in her direction, his legs thudding against the ground, all this thoughts concentrated on willing her to stay up long enough for him to reach her.

He only just made it. His arms circled her waist and held her a moment before setting her down.

“Cousin Lizzy! Cousin Lizzy! You caught it!” cried one of the children.

Darcy felt a strong sense of relief to discover that she was not, in fact, the children’s mother. Now he knew that she was unmarried. And he knew her name. Elizabeth. It was a solid, no nonsense type of name. The name of a sensible young lady, not the kind who would throw herself into danger’s way to rescue a bonnet.

“Sir, you may unhand me now. I am quite safely on the ground, you know.”

He discovered he was still clutching her, but fortunately not by her waist. He was holding onto the sides of her shoulders to steady her. She was very near to him, so near her hair brushed across his cheek when she moved her head, and the clean aroma of orange blossom, soap and sunshine reached his nostrils. He tried not to look, but he was acutely aware of her closeness, of the lithe curves of her body. She was warm against him. He restrained the impulse to reach out and run his bare fingers against her soft cheek.

Good heavens! What was he thinking? He quickly let her go and stepped back, looking anywhere but at her, full of remorse for losing himself in the moment. He needed to apologize, but he could not bring himself to meet her gaze. He felt incredibly foolish.

When he finally had himself under regulation, he discovered that she was no longer there. He looked around for her and realized that she was walking towards Georgiana, swinging the bonnet carelessly in her hand, the children following after her and chattering.

Darcy remained frozen until Elizabeth reached his sister. Then he finally managed to find his feet again, arriving just as Georgiana was saying goodbye.

He hurried to prevent the young lady from leaving. “Thank you for rescuing the bonnet, Miss—?” It was not quite polite to make it a question, nor to expect her to introduce herself, but he wanted to know her name.

“Elizabeth Bennet,” she said, with a bouncy curtsy and an impish smile. “And thank you for rescuing me from the log, Mr.—?”

“Darcy,” he replied readily, “Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

“Well then, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy,” said Elizabeth Bennet, “I must now bid you farewell. I must return the children to my aunt before she grows worried.”

Taking the hands of the youngest two, she walked away, dismissing him completely. His gaze followed her as he grappled with a feeling of loss and disappointment.

“You were quite the hero, Brother,” said Georgiana, “but I think you must mount your horse now. People are staring, you know.”

The reminder was just what he needed to jolt him out of the strange mood that had taken hold of him. Yet even as his horse began moving, he could not help casting a look over his shoulder. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was skipping merrily with the children, indifferent to the disapproving glances that were being sent her way.

He turned his face resolutely forward. He would not think about Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She was a complete stranger to him, and from all appearances, a hoyden. He knew very well that they would never meet again.

Yet some small part of him whispered that they must.

~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed this little sketch. What do you think will happen next?

©Monica Fairview. All rights reserved.