Chapter Text
“Lydia! Those are MY ribbons!”
“Come now, Kitty, you KNOW they look better with my dresses!”
“MAMA!”
Elizabeth Bennet snapped her book shut as her youngest sisters’ voices echoed throughout the house. This was accompanied by her sister Mary’s playing of the piano, making a poor attempt at drowning out the sound of Kitty and Lydia’s bickering. Meanwhile, Elizabeth was sitting in her room on her bed, trying to read in a vain attempt to escape the chaos.
“Mama!” Elizabeth heard Kitty clatter down the stairs. “Lydia took my ribbons,” she cried.
“Oh, hush, child,” Mrs. Bennet chided. “Let her borrow them for the day. It wouldn’t kill you to share! And Mary, stop that incessant clamoring of the keys!”
The music stopped abruptly.
“Mama,” Mary pleaded.
“Enough!”
“But Mama,” Kitty continued, “she’ll never give anything back, and she’ll claim what’s mine was hers all along,” Kitty whined, nearly to the point of crying.
“HUSH, child! My nerves have been stressed enough, what with a certain man NOT CALLING ON MR. BINGLEY!” Mrs. Bennet shouted, directing the slight toward Mr. Bennet, who was probably hiding in his study, trying to avoid the mess that was his wife and three youngest daughters.
“This is so unfair,” Kitty cried, followed by the sound of her coming back up the stairs. As Kitty thundered back up the steps, Lydia was giggling cruelly, perfectly content with her mischief.
“Oh, come now, Kitty,” Lydia said, feigning concern. “You could use my old ribbons; they would go much better with your dresses.”
In response, Kitty gasped, then shrieked, followed by a loud crash that made Elizabeth jump.
“CATHERINE BENNET,” Mrs. Bennet bellowed, followed by her hasty ascent up the stairs.
Elizabeth let out an exasperated sigh and set her book on the side table. Clearly, it was time to take her afternoon walk early.
Elizabeth, while putting on her bonnet, crept out of her room and down the hall. She did not dare look at the chaos within Lydia’s room, terrified she might be pulled into whatever nonsense they had gotten themselves into.
She was almost tempted to tell her father of her early departure, but the door to his study was shut tight, indicating that he was not to be disturbed.
Once she had finally made it out the door, Elizabeth walked at a brisk pace toward a familiar path, trying to get as far away from her family’s arguing, which was once again set to the tune of Mary’s piano.
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After walking a great distance from Longbourn, Elizabeth could finally enjoy her walk, strolling down the paths she had been familiar with since childhood.
It was the middle of September, and the breeze was beginning to crisp. The soft wind and cloudy sky had created a cool day, perfect for Elizabeth’s extensive walks. Chirping birds flew through the branches, rustling the leaves that had begun turning a yellowish color.
Elizabeth walked along a trail within the forest, its canopy creating dappled light across the worn dirt road. Along the trail side grew wild asters and Michaelmas daisies, along with dog roses, knapweeds, and so many other flowers Elizabeth could not even begin to name. She would occasionally pick one and twirl it between two fingers before discarding it when something else caught her eye.
Everything was so peaceful and relaxing, nothing like her home usually was. Do not get her wrong, she adored her family, but on the not-so-rare occasion, they can be…. How could she say it?
A lot.
On an average day, they were all perfectly in order. Still, ever since rumors of a Mr. Charles Bingley moving into Netherfield began to circulate throughout Meryton, her whole household had been in an uproar.
Elizabeth’s father, for reasons even she could not justify, had refused to call on Mr. Bingley, and her mother was beside herself. For the whole week, Mrs. Bennet had berated Mr. Bennet to meet their new neighbors, but when he would not budge, she began to send Jane to town with whatever excuse she could find in hopes she would meet Mr. Bingley by chance. (Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the thought.) Her other sisters were also not unaffected, with their mother's stress creating tension in their whole house.
In all honesty, Elizabeth wished that man and his entourage had never come at all.
As Elizabeth was wrapped up in her musing, she had not noticed the faint sound of hooves beating against the dirt. Elizabeth continued down the trail, the sound growing louder. She still neglected to notice the sounds until she heard the sharp jingle of the horse's bridle.
Elizabeth had stopped dead in her tracks, her face scrunching in confusion. Horses were rarely seen on this path. The branches hung far too low for someone to be riding, and this was a trail off the main roads.
Elizabeth let her curiosity get the better of her and crept further up the path. When she came to a fork in the road and could hear the horse more clearly, she stepped off the trail and hid behind a set of trees.
When she peered through the branches, she saw something, and her eyes widened.
There was indeed a fine horse with a black coat and mane that was neatly kept, but Elizabeth found its rider atop the horse much more interesting.
While his face was obscured by the half-turned leaves, Elizabeth could see that he was raising his arm to push a low-hanging branch upward, his black tophat scraping against the twigs.
She watched as the horse and its rider, whose back was now to her, trotted toward a worn sign. The tall man climbed off the horse and walked up to the sign, which was worn and faded with age, making it barely legible.
She heard the man sigh and saw him turn to the right to see one trail, and then look down the trail Elizabeth had just been walking on. This gave Elizabeth a view of his side profile as he studied the pathway.
He was tall with slightly broad shoulders, outlined by his navy blue frock coat and polished leather boots. She noted the quality of the clothes and the horse’s saddle, indicating the man was well off. He had dark hair and strong features, that were currently looking at the road with obvious confusion.
The man let out another exasperated sigh. He took off his black hat and combed a gloved hand through his hair, and rubbed the side of his neck. His horse looked less worried, finding itself a few fallen apples from a nearby tree to content itself with.
In the back of her mind, Elizabeth felt almost silly, watching a strange man through the trees like a fairy out of a children’s tale. This was surely very unbecoming of a lady, but she did not think she could simply walk up to the man and introduce herself, nor could she just leave, since the sound of her escape would give her away. Besides, who is she harming anyway? She will simply wait for the man to move on, then she can go about her business.
Meanwhile, the man had slumped his shoulders, looking defeated. Elizabeth observed him as he sat on a rock, casting his hat aside and raking both hands through his ruined hair. The horse, sensing its rider's frustration, nuzzled its nose into the side of its rider’s face. This made the man chuckle as he petted the horse’s mane.
“And where do you suppose we should go?” the man asked the horse.
Now, this situation felt entirely too silly for Elizabeth. Here she was lurking behind trees, watching a man, whom she determined was clearly lost, talk to his horse.
Therefore, she could not help herself when she giggled.
This made the man shoot up from his seat on the rock, nearly spooking the horse in the process. He looked around, trying to spot something.
“Who goes there?” he shouted.
Elizabeth clapped a hand over her mouth, fear and embarrassment washing over her. What had she done? How could she be this stupid?
When he had looked forward, he must have spotted her. He was looking directly at her, his eyes narrowing.
There was no getting out of this now.