Welcome to our Pride & Prejudice prequel! P&P: Prelude to Pemberley tells the story of the time leading up to the events of Pride & Prejudice, including what Darcy and Elizabeth were doing and thinking, Georgiana Darcy’s story, the events of Ramsgate, how Mr. Bingley came to lease Netherfield, and much more! Join us on our journey as the Austen Variations authors post the events of 1811 in real time on the date they happened – 214 years in the future.
A Walk in the Park
February 5, 1811
The day was overcast but dry, and thankfully the Green Park was deserted. It would likely remain so for a while due to the dull, grey skies and the unfashionable time of day, but Darcy was not minded to risk running into some acquaintance or another, so he bent his steps westward, away from the promenade favoured by the bon ton.
Above him, leafless branches swayed in the crisp breeze, and he slowed his pace as he drew a couple of deep breaths, relishing the quiet, the bracing air and the expanse of open fields before him.
This was precisely what he needed after the long hours spent in his study poring over sundry papers, Darcy thought, then grimaced as he owned that what he really needed was a full, unrestrained gallop over the open fields of home. He missed Pemberley. The rare moments of illusory freedom that London had to offer were nothing in comparison – which was one of the many reasons why he was so reluctant to spend a great deal of time in town. Being hemmed in for months on end would have been past bearing.
He sighed, all too aware that this was how his sister must be feeling about Miss Dalrymple’s Seminary. The impositions and restrictions that came with living at one’s school instead of one’s beloved home must make for an overpowering addition to all the grievances she had listed, and make her situation doubly difficult. But sadly it could not be helped.
His countenance taut, Darcy continued on his way past the Ranger’s Lodge flanked by clusters of tall trees. The fast pace was invigorating and it helped clear his head, but it could not do away with the heaviness of heart. An oppressive burden, this: knowing that his sister was unhappy, and that she blamed him for her misery. Aye, common sense dictated that it could not be helped, but the dictates of reason brought cold and meagre comfort.
Would she feel any better, he anxiously wondered, if he were to extend his stay next time he went to visit her? He could take a room at the George and Dragon and stay awhile. Better still, he could take rooms for both of them. A break in the routine might lift her spirits. She might enjoy being away from school for a few days. Or she might spend that time pleading with him or venting her anger, Darcy owned, and his mien darkened. But be that as it may. If nothing else, they could go riding. That might bring a modicum of peace between them, or at least a truce. Besides, the exercise would do her good, and there was every reason to believe that Georgiana missed the delights of a long gallop as much as he, for the school did not encourage anything more strenuous than leading one’s mount at a sedate walk.
Aye, that settled it, Darcy determined. He would go and spend a few days with her. The only matter that was still to be decided was whether he should simply show up and surprise her, or put his intentions in a letter.
A fresh grimace quirked his lips as he dearly hoped that Georgiana was not receiving correspondence from their overbearing aunts, much as Lady Matlock’s letters might work in his favour. The dear girl’s resentment might be softened if she understood the evils of withdrawing her from Miss Dalrymple’s school, but his distraught and impressionable sister could do without a deluge of stern lectures.
“As for Lady Catherine, heaven help us!” Darcy muttered with a scowl.
His uncle must have informed her of his troubles, for her latest missive had been full of unsolicited advice. According to the oracle that was Lady Catherine, one should have no truck with foolish whims and an unladylike conduct. Peevish and rebellious young girls must be brought to book. A firm hand was what they needed when they reached the trying age. And then her ladyship’s main point had been driven home: if he were to marry Anne forthwith, the thorny issue of Georgiana’s schooling would vanish at one stroke.
The recollection only served to rekindle his annoyance, and Darcy gave a huff of exasperation. How very like her to use any argument to advance her cause! Heaven forfend that she be given fresh grist to her mill, or Easter at Rosings would be insupportable.
All of a sudden, his dark musings were cut short by furtive movements he thought he had detected out of the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he glanced that way, but did not break his stride. Gone were the lawless times when the Green Park was the haunt of footpads. It was the sound of smothered giggles that slowed his pace. Intrigued, Darcy paused for a better look.
The next bout of giggles was decidedly louder, and a thin voice admonished, “Hush! She will hear you. Come!”
With a rustle of crisp foliage crushed underfoot, a pair of children came into view: a young lad holding hands with a little girl who was tottering beside him. Mere moments later another pair emerged, far more successful in moving stealthily, perhaps because they were visibly older. The second girl was almost a young lady, and the boy who followed seemed to be about eight or nine years of age. No urchins in rags, these, Darcy noted, and he could not but wonder what they were doing there, all alone. Mystified, he made to approach them and offer his assistance, yet he had scarce taken a few steps in their direction when he discovered that his concern had been for naught. The children had not been left to fend for themselves like the proverbial babes in the woods. From this new angle, he could now see their companion – presumably their governess, judging by the young woman’s plain and vaguely provincial attire. The blindfold she was wearing clarified the matter in a flash: she and her young charges were playing blind man’s buff.
A faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Darcy was about to leave them to it, but the bittersweet allure of boyhood recollections kept him where he was. Before him, the game seemed to be fast approaching its natural conclusion. Guided by the sound of small, faltering footsteps over the carpet of dry leaves, the blindfolded governess advanced, arms outstretched, towards the younger children. Yet the twitch of her lips as they shaped themselves into a playful moue gave Darcy to think that it was all a ruse. And so it was. Without any warning, she spun sideways, lunged at the other two and trapped them both, flinging her arms around them. Squeals erupted, some of delight, some of surprise and disappointment. Chuckling softly, Darcy turned away.
“I thought you were coming after me,” a laughing little voice piped up behind him as he resumed his walk, his spirits buoyed by the scene he had just witnessed.
He had no need to glance back to know that it must have been the youngest girl who was thus rejoicing. He did glance back though, just in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of the flaxen-haired cherub being scooped up and twirled around in an affectionate embrace.
“So who is to take your place now, Edward or Hetty? For you caught them both,” the child resumed.
“But what about that bookshop, Cousin Lizzy?” another reedy voice chimed in, thus proving Darcy wrong in his original assumption that the young woman was the governess. “You said it was full of treasures, like Aladdin’s Cave. May we go and have a look?”
The youngster’s siblings met the suggestion with a vast deal of excitement.
“Oh, yes, shall we go to Hatchards now? We can always play blind man’s buff later.”
“Is it very far?”
“How long will it take us to get there, Cousin Lizzy?”
“No time at all,” Darcy heard her say. “’Tis but half a mile away.”
“Then let us find Mamma and Cousin Jane.”
“They cannot be far.”
“Which way did they go? To the reservoir?”
“No, I saw them walking back towards the carriage.”
The voices were growing faint, so the small group must have been heading in the opposite direction – which was just as well, to Darcy’s way of thinking. He was in no humour to have them chattering close by for the remainder of his walk and distract him from laying plans and pondering on important matters. The episode might have cheered him, but by now he was ready to dismiss it from his thoughts. It was but one notion that stayed with him: the young woman was in the right to liken Hatchards to Aladdin’s Cave. Many a treasure could be found upon the neatly arranged shelves. Perhaps he should stop by and purchase some new books for Georgiana before leaving town to visit her.
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