Chapter 2

Chapter 2

August 2, 1932

T

he train whistle blew, and the passenger car lurched slowly forward, bringing a welcome breeze through the open windows.

“I hate those bank men! Vicious, conniving…

vultures

! Turning us out of our own home to starve in the streets!” Mrs. Bennet’s recurring refrain of misery had come and gone since the early morning hours.

Jane gazed beseechingly at Elizabeth, who had looked up from her novel at her mother’s outburst.

“Hush, Mama! I’m sure there’s at least one banker on this train who will hear you.” Elizabeth spoke in a low, urgent voice, glancing at the stern-looking gentleman three rows back. He stared at the back of her mother’s head with a scowl that should have burned a hole in her felt hat.

“And so, what if they do?” Mrs. Bennet’s shrill voice resounded through the passenger car. “I hope they do hear me!” She sat back and huffed, fanning herself with a tattered copy of

Harper’s Bazaar.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and glanced at the man, giving him a brief, apologetic smile. He startled, looking alarmed when he realized she noticed him and hurriedly ducked behind his

Courier-Journal

. Elizabeth’s self-deprecating smile turned into a haughty glare—a look he missed entirely. She turned back to her book.

“Lydia!” Kitty squealed, making Elizabeth jump and several people around them turn and stare. Mary elbowed Kitty in the ribs, eliciting an “Ow!” that nevertheless had the desired effect. Kitty lowered her voice. “That hair ribbon is

mine

.”

Lydia held the ribbon just out of Kitty’s reach. “You should just give it to me, because you know it doesn’t look good on you anyway.”

“Mama!” Kitty whined, ending with a hacking cough.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Kitty, let her have it! And stop that dreadful coughing!” Mrs. Bennet leaned her head against the back of the seat, rolling it side to side as if trying to shake a horrible headache.

“I don’t cough on purpose.” Kitty reached for the ribbon again, and Lydia held it to the open window.

“No!”

“Kitty, please!” Mrs. Bennet said through clenched teeth.

“But it’s mine!”

“Girls! Have some compassion on me and my nerves!”

Elizabeth tuned out the strife across the aisle and busied herself with looking out the window at the passing scenery. The Knobs—big, round hills scattered around Bardstown—had given way to a gently rolling landscape, the Pennyrile region of Kentucky. A summer haze covered everything, making the forests appear a dull green. Fields of corn and another big, leafy crop her father said was tobacco littered the landscape. The clickety-clack of the train wheels against the rails, accompanied by the gentle rocking motion of the car, lulled Elizabeth into slumber.

Elizabeth startled

awake as the whistle blew a second time. The train slowed, and peering ahead, she could just barely make out the edges of a train station.

Her father folded his paper and turned to them all. “Well, girls, it looks as though we have arrived at Meryton.”

“Thank goodness!” Mrs. Bennet exhaled loudly.

“Yes, Kitty,” he deadpanned, “I think once we are stopped, you may cough as much as you wish.”

Gradually the train crept to a halt.

“Let’s see if you can exit this train without making a spectacle of yourselves.” He leaned forward to look out the window. “Ah, yes. There’s a bench over by the ticket window. Wait there while I deal with our luggage, if you please. Mary, dear, can you assist me?”

“Of course, Papa.” She looked down her nose at her younger sisters. “I would be

g

lad

to help.”

Lydia sighed in disgust. Kitty collected her belongings and scurried after Lydia and their mother, bumping her hip on a seat arm rest as she walked. “Ouch!” she squeaked, causing several people to turn and look at her. Elizabeth and Jane brought up the rear, putting some space between them and their scolding mother.

Once they had gathered on the platform, Elizabeth wandered away from the bench where her mother and sisters waited.

“Lizzy!” her mother called. “Where are you off to, girl?”

“I’m just going to stretch my legs a little. I’ll be right back.”

Elizabeth ambled past the ticket window. Several dozen people were milling about, greeting loved ones or saying goodbye, several clustered together in embraces. The air had a thick, sweet smell, and she became aware of the long, drawled Southern vowels peppering the conversations around her. She turned in amusement to the sound of small voice calling, “Baa-baa.” A little girl, perhaps two years old, was toddling toward the train, waving at some unseen passenger. Corn silk blonde curls swirled around her shoulders. As she neared the edge of the platform, Elizabeth glanced around for the girl’s parents but saw no one coming to retrieve her. The little one had stepped perilously close to the train when Elizabeth sprang forward and caught her hand.

She squatted down to the girl’s eye-level and smiled at her. “Whoa there, sweet pea. You can’t go over there all by yourself.”

The girl looked at her, curious. “Choo-choo. Baa-baa!”

“Baa?” Elizabeth asked, amused. “I don’t see sheep anywhere.” She had noticed a chorus of

baa

’s from the passengers and their families as they stood and waved goodbye to each other.

“Where’s your mama?”

The girl parroted after her. “Mama!”

Elizabeth picked the girl up, looking around the crowd. She heard a woman’s anxious voice calling, “Ruth! Ruth?”

A child’s voice joined in. “Ruth!”

A young woman hurried through the crowd, scanning the platform, frantic. She was dragging another girl along by the hand.

Elizabeth called to her. “Ma’am, is this whom you’re looking for?”

The woman stopped, relief washing over her features. She put a hand to her heart and closed her eyes for a quick second. Taking a deep breath, she began moving toward them. Elizabeth set the little girl back on her feet, watching her toddle back to her mother, calling, “Mama!” The woman scooped the girl up into her arms and hugged her fiercely, wrapping a protective hand around her head.

“Ruth Anne Darcy! You mustn’t run from Mama like that, darling.” She approached Elizabeth, moving the little girl to her hip. “Thank you so much for catching her, miss. She’s quick as lightning. I looked away for a moment and she was gone.”

A little voice piped up from below. “I tried to tell you, Mama, but you shushed me.”

Elizabeth looked down into dark brown eyes with long, sooty lashes. Wide-eyed and curious, the little girl stared at her with an unnerving intensity. Her earnest face was framed by a shock of glossy brown hair, red and gold highlights catching the sun’s rays.

“You watch out for your sister, don’t you?”

The girl let out a dramatic sigh. “I try. But she just gets in troubles all the time anyway.”

Elizabeth stifled a chuckle and put on a serious-looking face. “I know exactly what you mean. My little sisters are always getting into troubles too.” She looked back at the girls’ mother, who seemed embarrassed at her daughter’s frank assessment of the situation. The young woman’s cheeks were pink in her lean, delicate face. She was about Elizabeth’s height, but thinner, with blonde hair and sad grey eyes. She changed the topic with a shy smile.

“Are you meeting someone here, miss?”

“Oh. No, I’ve just arrived. I’ve come here with my family to live.”

“How nice. Do you have children too?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Ah, no. I’m not married. I live with my parents and my sisters.” She felt a tug on her skirt.

“What’s your name?”

“Maggie! That’s a little forward, darling. You haven’t been introduced.” The woman admonished her older daughter, placing her free arm around the girl’s shoulders.

“I want to

be

introduced, Mama. That’s why I asked her.”

Elizabeth did chuckle this time. “Makes sense to me.” She knelt to look the girl in her big brown eyes and held out her hand. “My name is Elizabeth Bennet.”

The little hand shook hers. “I’m Maggie. My middle name is Elizabeth, just like yours. I’m Margaret Elizabeth Darcy, and I’m four years old.”

“Good to meet you, Margaret Elizabeth Darcy.” Elizabeth stood up and smiled at the girls’ mother. “Do you live here?”

“Yes, we live on a farm out in the country. The girls are so excited. We’ve come to meet—”

A loud squeal erupted from Maggie’s lips as she pulled loose from her mother’s hold and ran down the platform, yelling something incomprehensible. The young mother turned, and a smile broke over her face. “There he is!” Ruth was wriggling in her mother’s arms, trying to get down. After being set free, she followed her sister. Elizabeth glanced up and saw a tall, dark-haired gentleman with a small suitcase in one hand. He stopped and smiled at the girls’ squeals and held both arms wide, kneeling and gathering them into a hug.

“I guess I should go.” The mother turned back to Elizabeth. “It was good to meet you, Miss Bennet, and thank you so much for catching Ruth.”

“I hope to see you again soon.” The woman cocked her head to one side and smiled cautiously at Elizabeth, as though she was deciding if that were indeed a true statement.

“Goodbye, Missus.…” Elizabeth paused expectantly.

“Oh,” the young woman said, “I’m Georgiana. Georgiana Darcy.” She began walking backward toward her family, and with a broad smile, she turned around, striding swiftly away. Elizabeth watched as the man gave Georgiana a quick embrace. Georgiana then turned and gestured toward Elizabeth, obviously telling the story of the missing Ruth. The man frowned, and Elizabeth instantly recognized him from the passenger car, three rows behind her family. It was that grim, dour banker! The one who scowled at her and then retreated behind his paper. Amazing how a smile had transformed his haughty expression.

The family turned to go, and Georgiana held up a hand to Elizabeth in a friendly farewell. Lizzy waved back.

What a sweet little family. The children are precious, and the mother seems nice, if a little shy. But the father! Goodness, he’s rude!

Elizabeth turned away, finding her way back to her family. From the looks of things, her father had found the luggage. It was piled all around the bench, and she could hear her sisters quibbling over who would have to carry it. Her mother was lamenting that they could not afford a porter to perform that service for them. Her father’s face looked tight and strained, the way it always did when he spent any significant amount of time with his wife and two youngest daughters.

“Come, Lizzy,” he called. “Uncle Ed’s brought the wagon and his car to carry us to the house.”

She hoisted up her suitcase with both hands. Just beyond the station exit, she saw the tall, grinning form of her uncle Ed beside his car, his arm around her aunt Madeline, both of them waving.

“Here we are,” he called. Both aunt and uncle sprang forward, arms outstretched. Ed drew Mrs. Bennet into a bear hug.

“Oh, Ed!” she wailed, hugging him tight, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without you to help us.”

Ed looked embarrassed. “There, there, Fanny.” He turned and extended his hand to his brother-in-law. “Good to see you, Thomas.” The two men shook hands, clapping each other on the shoulder in a gesture of brotherly affection. “How was the trip down?”

“Well, we’re all here. Didn’t lose anyone on the way.”

Ed laughed. “Glad to hear it, glad to hear it. We’ve brought the horse and wagon and the car so we could fit everything for the trip home. Madeline can drive Fanny and some of the girls in the car, and we can take the rest in the wagon with the luggage. It’ll be slow going, but that way, we won’t have to leave anyone waiting here while we make two trips.”

“Excellent. Thank you,” Dr. Bennet said. “Jane, Lizzy, Mary, as the oldest three, I suppose you can take the back seat of the car.

A chorus of protests went up from the two youngest Bennets.

“Papa, that’s not fair!” Lydia complained. “They shouldn’t get to ride only because they’re older.”

Kitty chimed in. “We should at least draw straws.”

“We can probably fit four of the girls across the back seat,” Ed mused.

“So, who gets to ride in the wagon?” Lydia asked. “I volunteer Mary.” She snorted and giggled behind her hand.

Mary looked scandalized at the thought of riding in the hot sun among the suitcases and the hay. Jane opened her mouth to volunteer, but Elizabeth put a restraining hand on her arm.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’ll go in the wagon.”

“Lizzy!” her mother interrupted. “You’ll get all sunburned.”

“I have a hat, Mama. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Jane asked. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’d much rather ride in the wagon than play peacemaker all the way to the farm. You’re much better at that anyway.”

Jane’s lips twitched into an amused smile. “Now you’ve managed to make riding in a wagon sound appealing.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I’ll see you at the house.”

Elizabeth surveyed

the view from atop her mother’s large trunk. The sun was hot—she felt the heat through her hat, and sweat trickled down her back and between her breasts. The wagon didn’t go fast enough to kick up a breeze, and afternoons in the South could be brutal for a Northern girl. She heard her uncle yell, “Whoa!” and the horse slowed down and finally stopped.

Muffled voices were heard, and then her uncle shouted again. “Thank ye kindly, Mr. Darcy.”

The horses began walking again, jostling Elizabeth from her perch and nearly sending her to the wagon floor. She scrambled trying to keep her balance, just in time to see the Darcys sitting in their open roadster, waiting for the wagon to pass by. A little dark head popped up from the back seat, pointing at her and shouting excitedly.

“Mama! Look! It’s Elizabeth!”

Maggie waved, bouncing up and down on the seat. Georgiana also smiled and waved, but Mr. Darcy only watched her, a serious, forbidding look on his face.

Ed turned back and spoke over his shoulder. “You know the Darcys?”

“I met them at the station while we were waiting for you. Is Mr. Darcy the banker here?”

“Banker? Oh no, Darcy’s no banker. He owns the biggest farm around these parts. Lots of livestock. Big, nice house about two miles that way.” He pointed.

“Oh.” Elizabeth was embarrassed to be caught riding in a luggage wagon by a family who, from the looks of their car, rarely had to use such humble transportation. But she shrugged her shoulders and tried to put her self-conscious thoughts out of her mind. This was her reality now, and the sooner she accepted it, the better off she would be. Pride in appearances was a luxury she could no longer afford.