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Authors: Fenella J Miller
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feelings to influence her behaviour.
A warm cloak, gloves and stout boots were required for this venture. Suitably attired she hurried downstairs and slipped out through one of the many side doors without being seen by anyone. She took a little-used path that led past the home meadows where the house cows grazed.
Once she was a mile away from the house she began to relax, to enjoy the early spring sunshine and notice wildflowers growing in the hedgerows. This narrow track wasn't one she had taken before – but then this wasn't surprising as the grounds of Pemberley were so vast she doubted that even Fitzwilliam had traversed it all.
The sound of the birds singing was soothing and soon she was striding out enjoying the walk and able to forget about the catastrophic events that had taken place earlier. There was nothing she liked more than an invigorating walk in the countryside. Her lips curved as she remembered several years ago when she had walked across the fields from Longbourn to Netherfield. Caroline Bingley and her equally unpleasant sister Mrs Hurst had been so shocked by her appearance.
She paused midstride as something struck her. Jane would take Caroline's side – she could hardly do anything else when she was living under her roof. Perhaps things weren't as bad as they appeared and she might be able to speak privately to her sister and persuade her that the love between them was too important to be put at risk by Caroline Bingley.
The walk had done her good and she was ready to return. This was the first time since her marriage that she and Fitzwilliam had fallen out. It must not be allowed to continue so she would do her best to reach a compromise with him before things escalated.
After the vigorous exercise she was hungry and more than ready for her midday repast. That her skirt hem and petticoats were an inch deep in mud bothered her not one jot. She was mistress here and could be as dishevelled as she wished and nobody was in a position to comment.
The route she had taken brought her out just below the ha-ha. She ran up the steps and began the long trek across the grass to the terrace. A movement in one of the windows on the ground floor of the East Wing caught her eye. Was that someone waving to her? She was in a quandary, not sure if she should respond. If it was Caroline then she had no wish to acknowledge her – but if the person waving was anyone else living in the house then she must respond.
Perhaps she could pretend she hadn't noticed – yes – that was the best option. She continued on her way keeping her eyes lowered as if admiring the daffodils and crocuses blooming around the trees.
'Mrs Darcy, I beg your pardon, but could you spare me a few moments of your time?'
Her head shot up. Mr Forsyth was bounding towards her and she had no alternative but to stop and talk to him. She nodded but didn't speak uncertain what to say to the betrothed of the woman whose malevolence had caused the rift between herself and her beloved sister will stop
He slithered to a halt beside her and half-bowed. 'My Caroline is desperately upset about what happened between you. She considers Pemberley almost like a second home as she has spent so much time here over the years. Also, Mr Darcy is more than a friend to her…'
She had heard quite enough of this nonsense and interrupted him midflow. 'Mr Forsyth, Miss Bingley has never been more than the sister of his close friend, Mr Bingley. She was an acquaintance allowed to visit because of her relationship to my husband's closest friend. I believe you have been sadly misled on this subject.'
She set off towards the house indicating that the conversation was over, but he followed her and had the temerity to grasp her elbow.
'Mrs Darcy, I beg you to reconsider your position and apologise to Caroline so matters can be put right between you.'
This was the outside of enough. 'I have no intention of discussing this with you. You are a stranger to me.' She was
A warm cloak, gloves and stout boots were required for this venture. Suitably attired she hurried downstairs and slipped out through one of the many side doors without being seen by anyone. She took a little-used path that led past the home meadows where the house cows grazed.
Once she was a mile away from the house she began to relax, to enjoy the early spring sunshine and notice wildflowers growing in the hedgerows. This narrow track wasn't one she had taken before – but then this wasn't surprising as the grounds of Pemberley were so vast she doubted that even Fitzwilliam had traversed it all.
The sound of the birds singing was soothing and soon she was striding out enjoying the walk and able to forget about the catastrophic events that had taken place earlier. There was nothing she liked more than an invigorating walk in the countryside. Her lips curved as she remembered several years ago when she had walked across the fields from Longbourn to Netherfield. Caroline Bingley and her equally unpleasant sister Mrs Hurst had been so shocked by her appearance.
She paused midstride as something struck her. Jane would take Caroline's side – she could hardly do anything else when she was living under her roof. Perhaps things weren't as bad as they appeared and she might be able to speak privately to her sister and persuade her that the love between them was too important to be put at risk by Caroline Bingley.
The walk had done her good and she was ready to return. This was the first time since her marriage that she and Fitzwilliam had fallen out. It must not be allowed to continue so she would do her best to reach a compromise with him before things escalated.
After the vigorous exercise she was hungry and more than ready for her midday repast. That her skirt hem and petticoats were an inch deep in mud bothered her not one jot. She was mistress here and could be as dishevelled as she wished and nobody was in a position to comment.
The route she had taken brought her out just below the ha-ha. She ran up the steps and began the long trek across the grass to the terrace. A movement in one of the windows on the ground floor of the East Wing caught her eye. Was that someone waving to her? She was in a quandary, not sure if she should respond. If it was Caroline then she had no wish to acknowledge her – but if the person waving was anyone else living in the house then she must respond.
Perhaps she could pretend she hadn't noticed – yes – that was the best option. She continued on her way keeping her eyes lowered as if admiring the daffodils and crocuses blooming around the trees.
'Mrs Darcy, I beg your pardon, but could you spare me a few moments of your time?'
Her head shot up. Mr Forsyth was bounding towards her and she had no alternative but to stop and talk to him. She nodded but didn't speak uncertain what to say to the betrothed of the woman whose malevolence had caused the rift between herself and her beloved sister will stop
He slithered to a halt beside her and half-bowed. 'My Caroline is desperately upset about what happened between you. She considers Pemberley almost like a second home as she has spent so much time here over the years. Also, Mr Darcy is more than a friend to her…'
She had heard quite enough of this nonsense and interrupted him midflow. 'Mr Forsyth, Miss Bingley has never been more than the sister of his close friend, Mr Bingley. She was an acquaintance allowed to visit because of her relationship to my husband's closest friend. I believe you have been sadly misled on this subject.'
She set off towards the house indicating that the conversation was over, but he followed her and had the temerity to grasp her elbow.
'Mrs Darcy, I beg you to reconsider your position and apologise to Caroline so matters can be put right between you.'
This was the outside of enough. 'I have no intention of discussing this with you. You are a stranger to me.' She was
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