Eclipse

Chapter Thirteen

 

In the weeks that had passed since the Bingleys arrived the weather had warmed, the snow had melted, and Miss Darcy and Miss Griffith, being similar in age and agreeable in nature, had become friends. Miss Darcy admired Miss Griffith's robust character, while she in turn found Miss Darcy to be a talented artist, a gifted musician, and an appreciative audience for her tales of the exotic. But too soon they had exhausted their shared knowledge of painting, music, and other talents and yearned for more. Miss Darcy excited by a possible adventure, asked her brother if they might go riding one afternoon, weather permitting. He agreed and sent word for them to the stables that they should be allowed to find a suitable mount for Miss Griffith.

They strolled past soft muzzles peeking over doors to nip at their sleeves, stopping occasionally that Miss Griffith might observe the occupant inside. Soon the pair paused at the stall of Miss Darcy’s favorite horse, a dark gray, almost black gelding. He whickered in greeting and nipped at her sleeve over the half open stall door. She smoothed his forelock and tweaked an ear causing him to shake his head. “Meet Rondeau.”

Miss Griffith leaned back and looked at his nameplate. “Darkvandal.” Both brows arched in question.

Miss Darcy laughed. “No that name did not suit him. But only I use Rondeau, for when first I rode him, every time I fell, he kept returning to me. It reminded me of the music I was practicing at the time, and suited him much better.”

She gave him another affectionate pat on the nose and they strolled on through the warm barn. Near the end Miss Griffith gasped with delight at a small bay mare that nickered a friendly answer. The mare had a white snip on her muzzle and nudged Miss Griffith in the chest as she reached to stroke the black mane.

"I believe you have found your mount.” Miss Darcy exclaimed.

"She's beautiful." She opened the door and slipped inside while Miss Darcy leaned over.

The mare followed her around the stall, and Miss Griffith held out a piece of dried apple
she had brought as an offering to her choice. "Look at her neck Miss Darcy." She gathered the thick, black mane and held it aside to show a line of jagged white on the brown hide. "It looks as though she has had paint poured on her." She quickly stepped around the mare. "Why it's on both sides. What is her name?"

Miss Darcy stepped back from the door and looked down at the brass nameplate. "Regal Thunder. This name does not suit her either. She's too sweet and docile."

"I will have to decide on a more suitable name for her." She glanced at Miss Darcy as she continued to stroke the mare’s neck, "Do you think your brother would frown upon it?"

"I do not think he would even notice," Miss Darcy laughed. "but, I am thrilled that tomorrow we shall be free of the house and out upon the moor."

Miss Griffith closed the stable door and linked her arm in her friend's again. Not wanting to reenter the house, they found a bench and seated themselves listening quietly to the sounds of the horses eating contently and moving about their stalls. It was Miss Darcy who spoke first, "Do you miss your family?"

Miss Griffith sat quietly for a few moments before answering then she whispered, "Yes." The hand on her arm tightened and she continued, "I worry about Shorry, and I have heard no word..."

"Shorry, is that your brother?" Miss Darcy wanted to cheer her friend, one reason she had offered the riding excursion as a diversion. "What is he like?"

Miss Griffith's eyes were bright and she blinked several times before she smiled and told her new friend of her family. "Shorry is my name for him." She said and smiled again looking at Miss Darcy through shining eyes. "Siorus is only three years older than I and father says he is already a fine sailor. My eldest brother, Owain is kind and probably indulged me too much for my own good. He knew I missed our parents more so than he, being younger and sought to ease that pain. My parents I have not seen in five years. I miss my mother the most. They were supposed to come home this past year because I am of age, but..."

Miss Darcy nodded, understanding her sadness all too well. "Your brothers’ names are...different than others that I have heard."

"Yes, my father being Welsh wanted his children to have similar names. My mother, being English agreed only if the names were pronounceable by her and not those she could not understand." She laughed, "Hence I was named Marged, which is for Margaret, and Llewelyn after my father's mother."

Miss Darcy laughed glad to have eased her friend's feelings. "Marged," she said the name softly, "It is prettier with your pronunciation, than mine. I do not have so exotic a reason. I was named Georgiana after a grandfather. My brother was given our mother's family name."

"Georgiana..." She smiled and patted the hand that had squeezed her arm in comfort but a few moments before. "...you may call me Marged if you like."

 

 

Georgiana dismounted with the help of her brother, and Marged did likewise aided by Bingley. As the gentlemen watered the horses at the nearby stream, the ladies found a dry place and sat upon the sun-warmed rocks. Marged had asked her other cousins to accompany them, but had not been upset when they refused citing a dislike at being chafed from the cold wind in a carriage. Miss Bingley and her sister apparently did not ride, and Mr. Hurst only if absolutely necessary. The late January weather was still cold, but bearable when one was bundled and desirous to escape the confines of the house, as the members of the small riding party were.

At length the gentlemen joined them and listened while the ladies continued their discussion. Darcy noticed how Georgiana had warmed to this young lady, and while he was pleased, he was also somewhat cautious after what had occurred the previous summer. He continued to observe them from the place he had taken by a large tree as they spoke excitedly to one another.

“Have you chosen a more suitable name?” Georgiana asked Miss Griffith.

“Rhiannon.”

“That’s beautiful. Let me guess, it’s Welsh.” She smiled when her friend nodded.

“Yes, it is the name of the goddess of horses.”

“Cousin,” It was Bingley that interrupted. “I know if it is Wales you speak of there must be a story involved. I do not desire to mount my horse for some time, and therefore would enjoy a story told by you in your amusing manner.”

Miss Griffith bowed her head in acknowledgement of the teasing compliment, and smiled broadly. “You may be teasing cousin, but I will happily oblige your request.”

She made herself more comfortable on the large rock, leaned back and looking up thoughtfully at a passing cloud, began. “She was beautiful, as most goddesses are, and was one day seen riding her spirited white horse by the Lord Pwyll. She wore a golden gown and had golden strands interwoven throughout her dark hair. He sent his men after her, but her horse was fleet of foot and outran them until he was forced to give chase himself. For three days he urged his horse faster but could not capture the fair lady. At last as he neared her again he bid her to halt, and since that is what she too had desired, she did. She declared to him that her father had pledged her to marry a man she did not love, but after having met Lord Pwyll, she much preferred him. They secretly agreed to meet in one year’s time at the court of her father where he would win her from her betrothed. And so a year later after contriving a trick to capture her, Lord Pwyll and Rhiannon were married and she bore him a son, Pryderi, who became king after his father. There is much more to the story, but I favor the beginning.”

“She sounds similar to the Lady Godiva in Coventry,” said Bingley. “your brother told me that one once.” He laughed and turned to Darcy who was still quietly leaned against the large nearby tree, his elbow propped on a low hanging branch. “The entire family recites such stories. I long to sit with your father Marged when he returns from India and hear his tales.”

“Oh, please tell us another. The day is still warm” begged Georgiana. “I have not had as much fun in such a long time.”

Miss Griffith paused momentarily biting her lower lip in thought. “Very well,” She smiled. “Since horses are our theme this afternoon...there are also the water horses. My father learned of them from a fellow sailor in his naval days. There is the kelpie in Scotland, which lives near the water and to anyone passing transforms into a common pony. Until the traveler attempts to ride him, then it takes him under the water where he drowns. Sometimes a kelpie will take a human wife down to live under the water with him.”

“Oh,” Georgiana interrupted with a little cry, “does he drown her?”

“No,” continued Miss Griffith, “but she must live with him forever under the loch eating snails and seaweed.”

“How dreadful, can she not escape?”

“There have been stories of those who did so, but they were in danger from being stolen back by the angry kelpie.” She paused at a cough from Darcy and a smothered laugh from her cousin. “Sir and cousin, do you not believe in the kelpies?”

Bingley smiled then, “Dear cousin, it is as simple a question as how would the stolen wife breathe underwater?”

“And Mr. Darcy what is your opinion?”

He watched her brows arch in anticipation of his answer, and cleared his throat before speaking. “I am in agreement with Bingley, Miss Griffith. I believe it would be hard for the wife to breathe under the water.”

Miss Griffith was silent, looking from one gentleman to the other. “You find it hard to believe that she could breathe underwater without drowning, yet you do accept that the kelpie can change shapes to capture his wife.”

Georgiana laughed aloud then suddenly clamped her hand to her mouth, but she was soon joined by Bingley and even Darcy who inclined his head to the storyteller at the obvious mistake in his consideration of the story. "My apologies Miss Griffith, I see we can not have one without the other."

"Cousin, are there any more water spirits in Scotland? I am beginning to fear the place."

"Oh yes there are many throughout the isle, not just the north. There is another...the Glashtyn. It appears at night as a shimmering gray horse. When a man, he is tall with dark curls, and if a woman she wears a dark green dress the color of lochweed. They will charm a traveler, but can be recognized by their pointed ears like a horse's." She turned to look at Georgiana in her dark green riding habit and laughed.

"My ears are not pointed, but Darcy..."

"Yes, Darcy could be one with his cold stare. Say Darcy, take off your hat." Bingley had joined in the fun.

"I believe it is time to start home for the day." Darcy briefly nodded his head at the three and turned to fetch the horses. Today was good for Georgiana, he thought as he walked away from the gleeful trio, she is as she once was. Bingley's cheerful disposition always lightens the mood of those assembled, but the benefit of Miss Griffith's friendship has been a favor to me especially.

 

 

When the time came for the Bingley party to return to London, Georgiana requested that her new friend stay with her at Pemberley and journey to London with her in a few weeks. Marged happily agreed and they wished the others well when they departed. Bingley was saddened to leave what he thought as delightful company in his cousin and his dearest friend's sister. He rode partially down the drive and then turned to gallop back to the ladies still watching from the steps.

"Cousin, before you join us please remember more fables to brighten our evenings." He settled his hat more firmly on his head, and turned to face Miss Darcy as his charger danced and half reared in anticipation of overtaking the departing carriage. "And Miss Darcy..." The horse side-stepped and he had to rein him in firmly again. "...Miss Darcy, I ask that you reward our separation with a performance of your own."

Both ladies agreed and watched as he let loose the reins and the horse leapt forward down the drive. When they were at last out of sight, the young ladies entered into the placid house. Mr. Darcy was also away, inquiring after a sudden disturbance at a mill near Lambton. He had left two days prior, but had speculated that he might have to travel further away in investigation and therefore would not return for several days.

After a day of wandering about the house, the weak February sun became warm enough that the ladies might sit in the garden near the house. They spoke little but sat companionably watching the birds fly about the still unleaved trees and bushes. When they heard a rider approaching, they looked up to see a red-coated soldier riding furiously toward the house down the drive. Georgiana watched surprised into inaction as Marged arose and rushed to meet him.

The rider's horse reared as he stopped when the young lady ran up to it. "Sir, you have word of Shorry?" She asked breathlessly. "Please..."

The rider calmed his horse and gazed down at the sight of the comely young, unknown lass who had run out to greet him in such a fashion. "Miss, I am sorry...Shorry?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Griffith, he was aboard the Kingfisher. I thought...I thought..."

The man dismounted and handed the reins to a groom as Georgiana met them and caught the arm of Marged.

"Georgiana, I thought he had news of Shorry." She was obviously distraught and Georgiana patted her arm.

"No, I'm sorry...this is my cousin." In a few seconds Marged had composed herself, and by the time Fitzwilliam had finished giving the groom instructions for the care of his horse and turned back to meet them she was almost herself.

"Miss Griffith, may I introduce Colonel Fitzwilliam, the son of my uncle the Earl of ---. Colonel Fitzwilliam serves in the Everingham Cavalry in Yorkshire. Miss Griffith is a cousin of Darcy's friends from London who stayed with us lately." Marged, eyes still bright smiled feebly and curtsied as the gentleman bowed.

“Miss Griffith, it is a pleasure to meet an acquaintance of my cousin’s.”

“Thank you sir, and I likewise am glad to meet another of Georgiana’s family.”

She placed her hand on his offered arm as Georgiana comfortably took her place at his other side, and the three ascended the steps into the house.

 

 

And so they sat that night discussing Fitzwilliam's travels and his family, of which Georgiana was remembered fondly. Marged spoke little, but though still amiable company, she was distant. After a while she excused herself and retired upstairs, leaving the cousins by the fire.

They had received word that Darcy would return within two days, and Fitzwilliam spoke of the impending annual March visit to their aunt's in Kent. Georgiana had been but a few times and remembered the place as dark and imposing. Her cousin agreed and they passed the evening in quiet conversation.

Fitzwilliam did hesitantly ask one question of his cousin. "Miss Griffith expected news of her brother. May I ask what has become of him that she should be so affected?"

"He was aboard a ship at sea that fought victoriously against the French, but he was lost overboard. That is how she came to be here with us. Her parents are in India, and her eldest brother was summoned to inquire about the matter. She is a cousin to the Bingleys, those that Darcy visited with in Hertfordshire last autumn. We have become friends, and I asked her to stay and travel with me to London."

"I see...she looks to be near your age."

"She is, only a year older, but she was not herself tonight. She tells the most wonderful stories about her life in India, and of the fairies and such. She has expected word of her brother since arriving a month ago, but has yet to hear news. I am sure her heart will be lighter tomorrow and we might entertain you better."

"Then I await tomorrow with eagerness, that it might be a fond memory I can take with me to Kent." He said grinning at his young cousin.

 

 

Darcy returned to find his cousin, his sister, and his guest in the music room. Georgiana was playing while Miss Griffith sang in a clear voice. His cousin did not notice him enter but sat transfixed by the young ladies' performance. He too was astonished at the sound of the rendition and stood silently behind Fitzwilliam until it was completed. Miss Griffith had seen him enter, but gave no hint on her countenance, so it was a surprise to his cousin who rose quickly from the sofa in gratitude of a lovely performance only to find Darcy standing at his back smiling.

He thanked the ladies then hastily turned to Darcy. "Your sister's talent I am aware of, but your guest has enthralled me from the moment she came into view."

"She has many talents, but how are my aunt and uncle, are they well?"

Fitzwilliam put an arm across Darcy's shoulders as he related the news from his family. The ladies put away their music and moved to join them, preparing and pouring tea for the gentlemen.

"Darcy, your sister informs me that she has improved her riding skills this winter." He nodded at Georgiana, who was accustomed to his gentle teasing. Darcy was the seemingly stoic older brother, but Fitzwilliam was the amusing guardian that found humor in most situations and always brought a smile to those near him.

"Yes we rode the few days that the weather permitted. Miss Griffith is also an accomplished rider, and I saw improvement in both that could only have been necessitated because of the lack of good weather to practice through the winter."

"But there is the riding hall in the stables."

"Fitzwilliam," Georgiana interrupted their conversation, "the riding hall is barely bigger than this room. It is only favorable for children just learning. There are no jumps, and barely enough room to break into a trot."

Miss Griffith laughed at her answer, and agreed. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, surely you suppose our talents require our horses do more than walk about a hall?"

"I shall have to witness your talents...for last I saw Georgiana she had just landed in a puddle."

"Then you shall," Miss Griffith turned to Darcy, "if I may request the use of a horse once more."

Darcy smiled. "If it proves my cousin in error, then you may ride to your heart's content Miss Griffith."

 

 

The gentlemen rode silently behind the ladies listening to their excited conversation, each in his own thoughts. There would be time later during their stay in Kent when they could converse at length, and now felt the need to hoard what information they might share until then when a diversion would be desired.

"Miss Griffith has had an exhilarating effect on Georgiana. I have been worried since last I saw her in the autumn when you were away in Hertfordshire."

"Yes, she has uplifted her spirits considerably, and I am grateful. She seems to be an uncommonly good person. Of course, I am well acquainted with her cousins, but she is pleasurable company and very talented."

"That she is." The Colonel watched her teasingly dare Georgiana to jump a fallen branch, and she respond with comments about the little brown mare Miss Griffith rode. "About her brother, there has been no word?"

"No, I am anxious for her sake, and although she has been silent on the subject, she must suffer not knowing."

Suddenly the ladies turned and rode back towards the two gentlemen daring them to a race across the open meadow to the pond. Before they could respond, Georgiana and Miss Griffith had touched their crops to their horses' flanks and were already gone. Darcy and Fitzwilliam spared a brief glance and then raced after them. Their stallions rapidly overtook the two smaller horses and soon the four were racing together across the terrain. It was Cannon who surged ahead giving Darcy the win, with Miss Griffith's little brown mare pulling up at the water's edge in defeat, her sides heaving after such unfamiliar exercise.

The foursome rode slowly back toward the house to cool the horses. Darcy rode near Georgiana to question her about her horse. He would be inspecting new stock soon, and if she desired he would look for her a new mount.

Colonel Fitzwilliam reined in near Miss Griffith and they rode in a not quite uncomfortable silence, but yet, rather strained by the urge to converse.

When his horse playfully nipped at hers, he broke the silence. "Your little brown mare is modest, do you ride often?"

"Yes, at home, my brother is much like Mr. Darcy with his sister." She smiled and indicated the pair before them. "He allows me to do mostly as I wish, and liking to ride, I do so often."

"You brother Shorry of which you spoke?" He asked.

"No, not Shorry...um...Siorus, but my elder brother who is away to inquire after him."

"I am sure you will hear shortly. There is probably word waiting for you in London, and we leave soon." He paused, watching her play with the end of her reins as the horses slowly trod along the path. "Siorus, an uncommon name..."

"It translates to George in English." She gave a little laugh, "And now I have a new friend in Georgiana, who I believe was named for her grandfather."

"Yes, she was named for our grandfather, and so was I."

 

 

Darcy sat at his desk in the darkened study and fumbled for the key in his pocket. They would be departing tomorrow for London where he would leave Georgiana and Miss Griffith while he and Fitzwilliam continued on to Kent to visit their aunt. Everyone else had retired for the evening, but he had his ledgers to gather for the trip.

He unlocked the drawer and reached inside for the journal of horses owned and bred by the Pemberley stables. He was having several new stock delivered to Rosings for inspection with the intent to purchase. After placing the journals in a leather bag, he noticed something protruding from between them. It was a ladies riding glove. It was her glove. How long had it been? Three months...

He leaned back and ran a hand over his brow. Not a day passed that she was not in his thoughts, even though he endeavored to remove her memory. It was made more difficult by the presence of Miss Griffith, who seemed to be a younger version of her. Every time she spoke...the turning of her head...her dark hair curling about her neck...her laughter ringing through the house...She was an innocent fetch of Miss Bennet, who had no knowledge of her effect on his memory.

He sighed and rose to his feet, shoulders wearily stooped. Georgiana would be staying with Mrs. Annesley in London. No doubt she would also visit the Bingleys regularly after having become such good friends with Miss Griffith, that would be favorable for his sister who could only benefit from further familiarity.

 

 

This story is written by Cristal, and she owns full © copyrights to it.

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