Chapter Two

Elizabeth Bennet watched in a mixture of amusement and chagrin as her two youngest sisters endeavored to catch a glimpse through an upper window of their new neighbor as he visited their father.

“Can you see his face?’ Kitty asked anxiously. She tried futilely to shoulder her younger sister out of the prime viewing spot.

Lydia effortlessly resisted her older, but smaller, sister’s exertions. “I can’t see his face, but have you ever seen such a fine blue coat?”

“I can’t see anything, as you will not let me.”

“And he rides a great black charger, like a knight in a story.” Lydia sighed romantically.

“Let me see!”

“Too late.” Lydia turned from the window, relinquishing her place to her fuming sister. “He’s gone. I do wonder if Mother is correct and he will marry one of us. I should so like to marry before Jane or Lizzy. To be the first of us all to wed would be such a laugh.”

Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted when Mr. Bingley was obliged to refuse the subsequent dinner invitation to return to London. She spoke of little else for several days. On one occasion Elizabeth was in company with her dearest friend, Charlotte Lucas. Their mothers were discussing the matter.

“What business could he have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire?” Mrs. Bennet quizzed. “I do hope he will not be always flitting about from one place to another, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be.”

“You need not worry on that account, my dear Mrs. Bennet,” Lady Lucas replied, “Mr. Bingley told my dear Sir William that he had to return to London to gather a large party for the assembly.”

A report soon followed from another source that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a large number of ladies.

At breakfast on the morning of the assembly Elizabeth, as was her wont on most days, queried her sister about the news of the tenants. “Is there anyone I should make a particular effort to see on my rounds this morning, Jane? Mr. Quint mentioned that the Greens have a cow that might benefit from my attention.”

Jane, who had adopted the responsibility for overseeing the welfare of Longbourn’s tenants when she turned eighteen, considered her sister's inquiry. Mrs. Bennet had never been overly conscientious in her fulfilment of these duties as the mistress of the estate and the tenantry benefited greatly from the elder daughter’s more assiduous attention. “Mrs. Stringfield has been feeling poorly these last two weeks. Mr. Jones is concerned that it may be more than a trifling cold. He says there have been reports of influenza in Belton and St. Albans. I wonder if you might be able to stop by and see her this morning.”

“I’ll be sure to visit.” Elizabeth agreed.

“I’ll have Cook prepare a basket for Mr. Stringfield. I’m sure that he is tired of eating at the Mare,” said Jane.

“There’s no need for that today. You have to get ready for the assembly, Jane,” Mrs. Bennet interrupted. “And you, Miss Lizzy … If you’d spend as much time working to get yourself a husband as you do traipsing about the countryside doing who knows what, then we might not have to fear being tossed out into the hedgerows when your poor father dies.”

“My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts.” Mr. Bennet added, peeking out from behind his paper. “Let us hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves that I may be the survivor.”

Before her parent’s familiar dialog could delay her, she left the table to prepare for her second walk of the morning.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a habitual early riser and made it a habit to walk out almost every morning shortly after dawn. She would patrol the estate looking for any threats or disturbances. More than three years ago her father had unofficially ceded his magisterial duties to his second, and most gifted, daughter. As his de facto sheriff, she fulfilled the responsibilities all landowners had of keeping the peace and enforcing the King’s law on their estates.

When she had first started patrolling Longbourn she had carefully examined her father’s maps of the estate and calculated a sequence of walking routes that would allow her to cover every part of the property on a three-day cycle.

That morning’s route had taken her along the lane leading through Longbourn village and into the woodlands along the Meryton Road. It had been a peaceful morning, cool but sunny. She had enjoyed the quiet and solitude as she strolled along her chosen path.

It was in the little wilderness at the near the border with Netherfield that Elizabeth discovered the sign of a group of Strangefellows. She could detect the scent of fifteen gifted individuals. She sensed that almost half of the band were children. Her nose revealed more about the group, but she ignored the extraneous information. Though she recognized some of the scents, as she was outnumbered she decided on a cautious approach. Concentrating on her feline stealth, she moved silently though the heavy undergrowth, gently convincing the tangled brambles to part before her. She paused where she could hear the group in the distance. She chose a tall tree in the direction of the sounds and quickly clambered up the trunk like a squirrel.

From the top boughs she could see the smoke drifting lazily upwards from a cooking fire set in the center of three red-roofed gypsy wagons. She counted eight adults working in the encampment to prepare it for the day. They looked like they were intending to abide in the location for some days. Elizabeth could see they were the mixture of gifted and grotesque that could be found in most bands of Strangers. She saw a rock man, a plant woman, and an older dog lady among the more mundane members.

The daughter of the estate watched the interlopers for some time. She had to decide whether to confront them herself or to retreat and call for reinforcements of Sir William and the local bailiffs. She knew that if she confronted them alone and the confrontation should turn violent, her father would be most displeased that she had not sought assistance. Contrarywise if she brought in the Mayor and his bailiffs the chance for a peaceful resolution lessened dramatically.

Elizabeth held little of the common contempt for the social outcasts that were the Strangers. Many of them had started life as gentle folk just like her. But for a plethora of reasons they had either chosen to forgo the protections of polite society or were thrust from it. She had met a number of the travelling folk since beginning to patrol her father’s estate. Most had proven to be peaceful, wanting nothing more than to be left alone; perhaps to barter their skills and services to the locals for the odd coin or bit of food.

Given the presence of Nana Hound, the old dog lady, and Florence, the plant woman, both whom she had met before, she expected that these Strangers were here for peaceful purposes and posed no threat to the neighborhood. Having made her determination, she gracefully leapt from the treetop to a tree just off the edge of the circle of wagons. She slid down and alighted gently on the leafy ground.

“Hello the camp?” she called.

“Hello, visitor. Come in peace.” The gravelly voice of the old grotesque always sent shivers down Elizabeth’s spine. It was not quite human and that difference was always disturbing. Elizabeth stepped more clearly into circle of wagons.

The adults were arrayed in a rough ring with the young children hiding behind their parents, and the older ones perched on various wagons. Elizabeth looked them over for a moment then turned to Nana Hound. “Nana, you have returned to our part of the country. You have new companions, I see.”

“Miss Bennet,” the old hybrid dropped a sketchy curtsy. The other women and girls followed suit, and the men doffed their caps or knuckled their brows. “It is good to see you in fine health. My band was hoping that we might rest a few days here before moving west.”

“Two or three days?” Elizabeth clarified.

“We were hoping it might be a little bit longer, perhaps as much as a se'nnight. We’ve been hard travelling for some time and our horses need rest and our wagons need mending.” The old woman looked at Elizabeth with her soulful eyes set in her fur-covered face. A bonnet hid her pointed ears, though the young lady had seen them before.

“A week then. May I beg an introduction to your companions?” Elizabeth started sensing the natures of the estate’s temporary guests, probing each as she was introduced to them. She found nothing too far amiss. They were not as well fed as she would like, and had the common cuts and contusions found in working children and adults throughout the land.

Elizabeth always found it interesting that the Strangers never used family names in their introductions. They were Florence and Nathaniel or Ruby and Rocky, all with no surname. Her father had told that when a surname was needed for official documentation all the wandering folk claimed some variation of Strange, Stranger, or Strangefellow as their name.

After several minutes of conversation, she was offered a cup of tea from the communal pot. She graciously refused, “I must be returning home. My mother will worry if I am not at there for our breakfast.”

“I bid you a good morning, Miss Bennet. And you have our gratitude for your kind hospitality. May we attend services on Sunday?”

Elizabeth smiled and assured them that she would send the Reverend Mr. James to see to their needs. It was an unfortunate fact that a band of Strangers would cause fear and unrest in the tenantry, should they appear at Longbourn Church on the Sabbath. With a final playful grin at the youngest of the children, Elizabeth left the glade to return to her home and family.

After breaking her fast and discussing the tenant’s needs, she returned to her rounds. She visited the Greens at their farm and found a cow getting ready to calve. Using her healing gift, she made certain that the calf was correctly situated, and the delivery progressed without incident.

She listened as the elder Mr. Green explained the events to his grandson, using the opportunity to teach important lessons to the future farmer. “…and best of all we know that naught will go wrong as long as Miss Elizabeth’s here. She’s a right blessing, she is.”

After checking the health of the rest of the family and the available livestock, Elizabeth continued on to her next stop. On her way to the village, she noted that the Rowan’s south field was wet with standing water. She realized the drainage had failed after the heavy rains of previous week. Elizabeth considered the problem and decided to ask Jane to examine the field along with Mr. Quint. He was the steward for the estate and would be able to determine the necessity of permanent repairs, while Jane’s control of water would enable her to effect an expedient removal of the potentially damaging pool.

The Stringfields ran the small shop in the village that supplied the Longbourn tenants with simple necessities. They were an older couple that had been part of the small community for decades. Elizabeth found Mrs. Stringfield sick in her bed. It was obvious to her special senses that the woman was suffering from a severe case of grippe.

Elizabeth laid her hands on the woman’s head and chest, pouring her power into her, reducing her fever and balancing her humours. They stayed in that attitude for several minutes. The older woman relaxed and Elizabeth wiped her brow with a cool, wet cloth.

“See if she will take a warm broth this evening. Send for Mr. Jones tomorrow. He should find her on the road to recovery.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Stringfield said. “The Lord takes us all in his time, but I have to say I hope that her time is off yet a ways.”

“Just be sure to take care of yourself as well,” Elizabeth reminded him as she handed over the food from her basket. He accepted the provisions gratefully.

Soon thereafter Elizabeth decided it was time to return to Longbourn House. While she always enjoyed the public assemblies she attended with her family, she dreaded the preparations her mother always put her daughters through in hopes they would somehow manage to secure a husband. Given the scarcity of eligible gentlemen in the neighborhood, this was an unlikely endeavor.

Still with a new gentleman on the scene, and him bringing some unknown number of guests, some of whom might prove to be worth knowing, Elizabeth had to admit she was excited by the prospect of new society.