Elizabeth forgot about Major Wickham as the summer days passed in relative peace. Lady Matlock became a favorite guest in the homes of Mrs. Bennet’s friends and neighbors. There had been some minor skirmishes between the two women at Netherfield until Elizabeth assured her mother that having a relation such as Margaret Fitzwilliam was a feather in her cap. “Our friends and neighbors have welcomed her because of their respect for you, Mother. Certainly you see that?”
Mr. Bennet had stood and quit the parlor to hide his amusement. He truly did not wish to have his wife causing trouble for Elizabeth.
Fancying himself a capable angler, Mr. Bennet sought the company of Mr. Harley. The butler was coming inside with the children and Nanny and they met Mr. Bennet in the entryway. Rose was crying and Nanny took her directly upstairs. Young Richard pulled on Mr. Harley’s coat. “May we go to the pond, please?”
Mr. Bennet offered his hand to his grandson. “I was going to ask Mr. Harley if he would care to fish with me this afternoon. Would you like to come along with us?”
The boy nodded his head enthusiastically. “Oh yes sir! I have only been twice since we returned to Netherfield.”
Mr. Harley arranged for a footman to gather the poles and arrange a basket of food from Cook. He knelt and smiled at his young charge. “Let us find your mother and tell her our plans. She would not like to wonder where you’ve gone.”
Mr. Bennet waited in the entryway until his companions returned. He nodded to his grandson and winked at Mr. Harley. “This one is a fine fisherman, Harley. You and I will be lucky to catch a fish with him along.”
Mr. Harley laughed. “He is a remarkable young man. I am pleased Mrs. Fitzwilliam allowed me to come along and visit Hertfordshire. It is such a peaceful place.”
The fishermen set off when the footman handed over Cook’s basket and opened the front door for them. Mr. Harley had enjoyed his summer stay at Netherfield. It was very strange not to be a servant of the house, though they all treated him well.
The groom had brought around a cart for their use and Mr. Harley took the driver’s seat. “’Tis no reason to take a carriage when the ladies may have need of it whilst we are away.”
The afternoon was warm and bees buzzed in the fields as they rolled along the lane that led from Netherfield to Longbourn. Mr. Bennet had insisted on a lively creek that ran between the two properties as the fish would be plentiful there in the shade beneath the trees.
Young Richard kept the two older gentlemen alert as he regaled them with the pirate tales Mr. Darcy had read to him in London and now again at Netherfield.
Soon, Mr. Harley found the creek. It rambled merrily beneath them a little way down a small hill.
The butler drove the cart off the lane and stopped beneath a tree near the road. “Let me loose the horse so he might enjoy this lovely grass and then we will get these poles and settle on the bank.”
Mr. Bennet took his grandson’s hand and Cook’s basket and led the boy down the small hill. It was a gentle slope and quite easy for a gentleman of some years to reach.
Young Richard broke free and ran to the edge of the creek. There were small stones scattered about and he chose a smooth one. He arched his arm back to throw it but Mr. Bennet called out. “Now, son! You will scare off all the fish and then what shall we have for dinner?”
Mr. Harley came down the hill after them and handed Mr. Bennet his pole. “He may be the only thing we catch as the boy loves to splash about in the creeks and ponds. He got Rose’s dress wet earlier in the gardens, thus her tears.”
The gentlemen laughed as they recalled their own adventures as young boys. Mr. Bennet grew serious for a moment as he helped his grandson bait his hook. “I am happy he has come home to Longbourn for a time. It is easier to find a creek or a tree in the country.”
The butler nodded. “’Tis true! He and I have our adventures in Town, as he does with Mr. Darcy, but the country is a treat.”
The three soon rested on the bank of the creek with their poles propped against several large rocks along the bank. A breeze lifted the leaves above them and Mr. Bennet soon dozed off.
Mr. Harley grew quite drowsy himself but his young charge kept him awake with his chatter and with the treasures he found along the creek bank.
When they had sat for an hour with not a fish interested in their bait, Richard took his friend by the hand. “May we go into the forest, Mr. Harley? Grandfather Bennet is asleep and I would like to bring flowers for mother. She does love the poppies that grow in the shade of the forest.”
Mr. Harley looked to Mr. Bennet and indeed, the man had nodded off. They would only be a short time and so he led the boy down the creek to a place where several large rocks made a natural path across the water.
Richard was across the stones before the butler might stop him and so Mr. Harley laughed and skipped across much slower than his young companion.
In the forest, they walked along together and Mr. Harley showed Richard which mushrooms were safe and which were poisonous. “Never even touch those, my boy. Best not to take a chance that their spores might make you sick as well.”
Richard nodded solemnly. He loved the forest as his mother often brought him there on her long walks across the countryside. “How do the birds and rabbits know not to eat them, Mr. Harley?”
The butler was impressed with the young boy’s curiosity and the question. “The colors of poisonous plants and berries warn the birds and such away. Nature is brilliant that way. It teaches us to use our senses and take care.”
The two walked on and Mr. Harley was surprised to hear a man calling out from somewhere nearby. He sounded as though he was in trouble.
The butler quickly found a fallen log and lifted Richard to sit upon it. “Stay here, son. I will not be long. If you here me call out, run back to your grandfather.”
Richard nodded solemnly. He had heard his Uncle Charles and Grandfather Bennet speak of highwaymen before and thought they must not be real. He had never seen such a man himself in his travels with his mother.
Mr. Harley left him and he grew scared the longer his friend was away. He jumped down from the log and walked slowly in the direction Mr. Harley had gone. Soon he heard voices and knew one was Mr. Harley. He was arguing with a man.
Richard hid behind a bush and peeked from between its scratchy branches. The other man was the major who had come to see his mother at their picnic! Major Wickham.
Richard wondered why the major would yell at Mr. Harley. Something was not right, he must go to Grandfather Bennet. He stood and Mr. Harley saw him. The major saw him too.
Mr. Harley shouted and the major pulled out a gun. Richard knew what a gun was as he had gone with Uncle Charles once to shoot birds. Uncle Charles had not allowed him to touch the gun and Richard had not wanted to for it was horribly loud.
The sound of the gun deafened him as he covered his ears and cried out for Mr. Harley. The butler fell to the ground, his eyes closed and his hands gone to his middle.
The major grabbed Richard by the arm and pulled him away from the bushes. He struggled and kicked and screamed but the major was strong and hurt his arm. The man pulled off his cravat and tied it over Richard’s mouth so he could not scream.
He wondered why his mother and Uncle Charles and Grandfather Bennet had not known that Major Wickham was a highwayman.