Chapter 8
The carriage ride home from the ball was much the same as any other. Elizabeth and Jane stared out the window, lost in their own thoughts, while the younger Bennet sisters bombarded their mother with their version of the evening’s events.
“Mama, I swear that I danced with every officer at least twice! Kitty, did you see Mr. Denny’s face when I danced with that Prussian officer? I daresay I thought his head was about to burst with jealousy.” Lydia laughed gaily as Mrs. Bennet sighed happily. As far as she was concerned, the ball had been a triumph. Jane had danced with Mr. Bingley for much of the evening, and he had even escorted her to the carriage when the ball had begun to wind down.
Mr. Darcy had attempted to ask Elizabeth to dance twice more, but she had rejected his requests with various excuses until he had appeared to take the hint. Nevertheless, she could not help but watch with interest as he had taken Miss Bingley to the dance floor in her stead. However, she did not feel one way or another about it, for her eyes were constantly seeking out Mr. Henry and his cold gaze. Each time her eyes found him, it seemed that he knew she was watching him; Elizabeth had felt a heat rising to her cheeks each time their eyes locked.
She was still no clearer on who these officers were, or why they were in Meryton, but no one else seemed to be bothered by their presence. Even Mrs. Forster, who had expressed some trepidation at their coming, had seemed overjoyed to have them in town, and Elizabeth’s suspicions were not quieted by the fact that Mr. Henry would have had no reason to be at the stables. He could not have heard the commotion from the ballroom. It was impossible.
“Lizzy, who was it that you were dancing with? Charlotte Lucas told me that it was Mr. Bingley who had taken up Jane’s dance card, but she did not know who you were partnered with.” Mrs. Bennet’s question was pointed, if there was anything that her mother hated, it was to be uninformed. Especially in a social situation. In this instance, Elizabeth was not feeling charitable, and she turned to her mother and kept her voice as mild as possible.
“I do not know, Mama. I did not ask his name, and he did not ask mine… but he was quite a disagreeable dancing partner, and very ill at conversation.” Jane’s eyes widened, but she did not say anything, and Elizabeth was silently grateful for her sister’s tact. Jane knew the identity of Elizabeth’s partner, just as she did, but Mrs. Bennet did not have to know. It would serve nothing for their mother to know that she had been dancing with the wealthiest bachelor currently in Hertfordshire. Her mother would not care what he had said about Jane, all she would care was the fact that he had ten thousand a year and a grand country estate.
Mrs. Bennet huffed and leaned back in her seat. “Well, no matter, Lizzy. Jane has had enough good luck for all of you girls tonight. I could not be more pleased. I cannot wait to tell Mr. Bennet!” Elizabeth smiled sympathetically across the carriage at Jane, but her sister was looking down at the butterfly mask in her hands. As a final parting gift, they had all been allowed to keep their masks, but Kitty was holding a mask that was not her own and she stared down at it transfixed, stroking the dark feathers with the tips of her fingers.
“Kitty… what mask is that in your lap?” Elizabeth’s question caught her younger sister unawares, and she was startled out of her trance.
“Hm? Oh! It belonged to Mr. Mason… he asked me to trade.” She held the mask up to her face briefly, and Elizabeth had to stop herself from jumping as the wolf mask hid her sister’s features. Her blue eyes flashed in the dim light and cold fingers crept up Elizabeth’s spine, making her shiver.
“How nice, Kitty! He was one of those Prussian officers, was he not? How dashing they were in their black coats. Most intriguing gentlemen, do you not agree, Lizzy?” Elizabeth nodded but did not answer, but Mrs. Bennet did not seem to notice and continued her exclamations over the decorations, the food, and the quality of the music.
The carriage slowed as it entered the courtyard of Longbourn, and as the girls followed Mrs. Bennet to the front door of the house Elizabeth paused and looked back over her shoulder, peering into the darkness. In the traces of the carriage, their mare, Misty, tossed her head and neighed suddenly, startling her. The driver spoke soothingly to the horse and clicked his tongue to urge her forward. He tipped his hat to Elizabeth, leaving her standing on her own in the gravel of the courtyard. The moon was high in the sky above her, and cast a silvery light over the courtyard and creating shifting shadows in the gardens that surrounded the house. The breeze was chilled and Elizabeth pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders as she stared into the darkness.
She could not shake the feeling that she was not alone. That she was being watched.
“Lizzy!”
Elizabeth turned to see Mary standing in the open doorway, the golden light and warmth of the house spilled over the doorstep and out over the gravel. “Lizzy, are you coming in? Mama is asking for you, she is telling Papa about the ball and she needs your help.” Mary’s tone was dry, and Elizabeth sighed and walked towards the door and the safety of the welcoming light that beckoned to her. A loud snap from the trees that edged the courtyard made her pause.
“Mary… do you see anything in the garden?” Elizabeth tried to keep her voice low, and Mary squinted into the dark, though she did not leave the doorway.
“I cannot see anything but you, Lizzy. Do come inside, it is getting cold and Papa will be cross with me if I let all the warm air out!” Mary had not taken her sister’s cue to keep her voice down, and Elizabeth quickened her pace, not slowing until she had crossed the threshold and pushed past Mary to push the door closed. She peered into the night, her heart hammering in her chest, seeking anything in the trees, a hint that she had not been imagining things; but she saw nothing. Elizabeth pressed the door closed, relaxing just a little as the latch clicked into place.
“Whatever is the matter, Lizzy? You are very pale.” Elizabeth smiled weakly at her sister and held a hand to her cheek. She was cold.
“It is nothing, Mary. I will be fine in a moment; I just need to sit by the fire.” Mary nodded, but did not look entirely convinced. Elizabeth glanced out the window once more as she followed Mary towards the parlor, but the courtyard was still, lit only by the moon that sat high in the dark sky above Longbourn.
“I say again, Darcy, I am convinced that we are beset by wolves. You cannot sit there and tell me that what happened at the stables was not caused by one of those beasts!” Charles Bingley set down his teacup with a determined click and stared at his friend incredulously. “We were chased through the forest by no less than three of the creatures, I am sure of it. And the horses, Darcy… surely you cannot tell me that wild dogs did that to the horses!”
Darcy drummed his fingers upon the tabletop and Charles fumed silently as the mantle clock ticked the seconds away. Unable to bear the silence any longer Charles slammed his fist down onto the table, rattling the china and causing Darcy to look up at him with his eyebrow raised. Charles was not an excitable man by any means, but he was clearly upset by everything that had happened.
“Charles, listen to yourself. You are blaming all of this mayhem on a creature that has been hunted to extinction in these parts. There are no wolves in England. Even if there were, what on earth would they be doing in the woods surrounding Netherfield Park? I would expect them to be harassing my herds up north sooner than Hertfordshire’s countryside.” Darcy could not keep the scorn out of his voice, but his patience was running thin and Charles was being ridiculous.
“Would you feel better if we asked some members of the militia to come and search the forest with us?” The question had been sarcastic, but Charles brightened immediately and Darcy groaned inwardly. This was the last thing he wanted. Running around the forest beating bushes to flush out a figment of Charles’ imagination.
“Yes! A capital idea, Darcy. I will go and visit Colonel Forster at once. He will surely be able to recommend some sturdy men to accompany us. We will go on horseback into the woods and flush out these beasts. If we can drive them into the open, they can be dealt with. I will not leave my horses vulnerable. Think of the deer! Louisa would be heartbroken to hear of the mess that was found this morning.” Darcy nodded slowly in agreement. He had forgotten about the discovery of the ruined deer. The gamekeeper had been most distressed at the doe’s demise. The creature had been pregnant, and there was little that Charles could do to console the man.
“Fine. We will visit Colonel Forster, and we will settle this. If we find nothing, you must promise me that you will forget this nonsense. Promise me, Charles.” However, his friend was not listening, and Darcy sighed with frustration as he watched Charles retrieve his coat and hat. “Do you mean to leave now?”
“Of course I do, get your coat Darcy. We will ride out immediately. There is no time to waste.” Darcy shook his head and drank the remainder of his tea before pulling his jacket from where he had draped it over the back of the chair he had intended to sit in to read his letters that his valet had forwarded from London. Charles was already striding from the room as he tugged his jacket over his shoulders. He had been meaning to go to the stables to check on the grey mare that had been attacked, and this was as good an excuse to delay their departure as any. With a longing look at his letters, Darcy let out a furious breath and followed his friend towards the stables.
Darcy had waylaid them enough to check on the grey mare’s injuries and speak to the head groom and Charles was desperate to leave. The stable boy that Miss Bennet had tended had been moved to the servants’ quarters, and the doctor was due to visit later this afternoon to see to his injuries. The bite wound in the boy’s shoulder was the worst of his injuries, and the lad had still not awakened from the dose of poppy tea he had been given.
Charles had set the pace and they galloped at breakneck speed towards the Meryton garrison. Their arrival had drawn strange looks from the assembled officers, but the intense scrutiny of the Prussian officers unsettled Darcy the most. They stood together at the edge of the parade grounds as he and Charles had approached, their dark eyes burning. Their leader, for what else could he have been, stood a head taller than the largest man, and his pale gaze followed their progress sharply. Darcy gritted his teeth and stared straight ahead as they walked.
“I do not like the look of those Prussians.” Darcy winced. Charles’ loudly hissed whisper must have carried on the wind, and Darcy was sure that the men had heard him, but he could not bring himself to turn his head and confirm it by reading a change in their body language. He could feel their animosity burning across the parade ground and he quickened his pace, fairly leaping up the stairs that led to Colonel Forster’s office.
The man was seated behind a wide wooden desk that was strewn with dispatches and papers, many of which were stained with wine and food. Darcy tried to hide his disdain for the man and the militia in general, but it was difficult to keep his thoughts from showing on his face, a fault that Georgiana had often scolded him about.
He left Charles to do the talking, and Colonel Forster had been most eager for the escapade, but Darcy suspected that the man’s eagerness was due to his desire to exonerate his own beloved Irish Wolfhounds from the list of suspects. Darcy found the entire exercise tiresome, and was grateful for the final agreement of three stalwart officers who would lend their eyes and firearms to the hunt.
“Excellent. I am most grateful for your support, Colonel Forster. Please have the officers meet at the Netherfield Park stables at dusk, and we will go together into the forest and flush the beasts out into the open.” The men shook hands emphatically, and Colonel Forster seemed almost as excited by the prospect of the hunt as Charles did. Darcy, however, was taken aback by his friend’s announcement. When they were walking back towards their waiting horses, Darcy could no longer keep his disbelief to himself.
“Dusk? Charles you must be mad! I am not taking my horse into those woods after dark!” Darcy kept his voice low, so as not to alert anyone else to their conversation, but Charles waved away his protest with a confident gesture.
“Nonsense, Darcy! We will catch the creature unawares! They are most active at night, and we may not find them during the day. At dusk we will find them at their leisure and take them with ease. I have no doubt that this will be quickly resolved.” Darcy shook his head, dumbfounded at his friend’s careless approach. This would not end well. He was sure of it. Charles, however, was beyond the point of accepting his advice.
The Prussian officers were still standing on the parade ground, and Darcy avoided their intense stares. He could feel their eyes on his back as they mounted their horses and spurred them forward, but he said nothing to Charles, who was clearly lost in his own thoughts. Darcy gritted his teeth. The hunt would be a disaster. He could feel it.