10.4

After a time, Tilney's light-hearted manner revived. "Well, Bennett, perhaps you're right. Perhaps I do not give women enough credit. They're not all barques of frailty, I suppose."

"Quite right," Lizzie responded as she tucked into the fine country stew the landlord set before them. "While women tend to be raised without a thought for their brains, there are many who work to develop innate abilities to the best of their circumstances."

Tilney laughed and brandished his spoon at his friend. "You seem to have an inordinate interest in some clever lass. Fess up, Bennet! Your colouring up gives you away."

Lizzie had indeed blushed at the remark, fearing that Tilney might get too close to the truth of her disguise. "Not at all, Tilney. I was merely thinking of a, er, distant cousin of mine, I knew well in childhood. She corresponded in three languages, kept a collection of unusual insects catalogued and labeled carefully, and was seldom to be found without a book of some kind near to hand."

"Ha!" Tilney said as if he were about to declare checkmate. "And tell me, is she not in fact an old maid, ignored by all men, as dry and dreary as a gnarled wych-elm."

"Not at all! She has long been considered a rather handsome woman."

"But not married, surely," Tilney said with finality, taking a healthy bite of bread as if to seal the fate of this unknown woman.

"Not yet, although," Lizzie swallowed, afraid to reveal the secret so long contained, "Although she is engaged to -- a rather prestigious person in another country." The secret confessed but still obscured left Lizzie with a pleasant feeling of both revelation and smug secrecy.

However, Tilney greeted this disclosure with a crow of laughter. "Of course! Some foreigner who's never laid eyes on her -- it’s the only possibility. No Englishman will settle for such a homely bookworm."

Lizzie tried not to show how nettled she had become, although Tilney's dismissive words struck very close to her heart. It was true the King of Naples had never laid eyes upon her, although she believed the pencil sketch she had sent to him -- although from her most flattering angle -- was a reasonably accurate depiction of her modest appearance. Lizzie knew she was not a beauty like Alice or her mother, but there was certain nothing hideous about her looks, either.

But Tilney could not know that George was really Lizzie, and a young man like George should not be quite so eager to support the vanity of a mere cousin. Be a man, Lizzie scolded herself -- bluster, brag and lie as we imagine them to do when they are out of our sight.

"'Pon rep, Tilney, I suppose you're right. You're the experienced one after all with the civilized side of womankind. I do well enough with the rougher sort. Tell me, how would you inveigle your way into the eyes of some young lass being such a notoriously picksome sort -- say, those two country girls over there?"

"Oh, a conversation like that will require fortification," Tilney drawled. Gesturing to the landlord, he called for wine, which made Lizzie worry a bit. Lord Mangrove did not approve of wine being wasted on young people without an educated palate, as he always said, so her experiences with the stuff were limited.

Nonetheless, she determined to press on. "Go on then, Tilney. I'm curious to know how you work your way around a tempting armful."

Tilney grinned. "Well, the two before us hardly qualify, but I'll tell you the secret to getting on with the petticoats without trotting too hard." He thrust a tumbler of wine at Lizzie with a laugh.

Oh dear, Lizzie thought and gulped a mouthful down.

10.3

Lizzie was grateful when the need for a luncheon became apparent and the two reined in a small country inn. The ride all morning had been noted for Tilney's unusual silence and lack of good humor. He appeared to be deep in thought and answered Lizzie's few conversational gambits with little more than a grunt.

They handed over their reins to the groomsmen and stepped into the cool comfort of the inn. It was a pleasant place of thick oak posts and lace-curtained windows. The landlord lead the two of them to a small table in the corner from which they might glimpse the other folk filling the dining room that day.

There were two young ladies sitting quietly with an older woman, perhaps their mother. To the right, an elderly pair of men sat munching cheese and bread without a word to one another. A table of four held a lively pair of couples, chatting with animation and laughing frequently at one another's comments. It gave the room a fond cheery feel Lizzie thought.

Tilney's thoughts clearly headed in another direction as he reflected misanthropically on the folks gathered there. "Honestly, Bennett, look around us. What a sad reflection of the horrors of modern life."

"Lud, Tilney. What are you talking about? I see nothing but a pleasant gathering of friendly folk. What could be cheerier?"

"Bennett, you are far too kind and trusting," Tilney snorted. "You look, but you do not see."

"For instance?"

Tilney nodded his head toward the table with the two young women and their guardian. "What does that table suggest to you?"

"Two young ladies, friends or sisters, under the careful watch of their mother or some such relative," Lizzie said feeling a little puzzled by the hint of venom in his tone.

"Not at all," Tilney said, a coldness creeping into his voice. "Two young jackdaws in training with a senior member for advice on the craft."

Lizzie laughed, a little too soprano at first, coughing to deepen it to a contralto. "Tilney, you can't be serious. They look like nice country girls and their mother, or chaperone, looks kindly if dull."

"Bennett," Tilney chided with a shadow of his usual humor, "You ignore the details. Every aspect of their simple frocks has been designed to tempt the masculine gaze, to leave us besotted with their beauty. They are, in short, snares. Hook our eyes and our purses are not far behind."

"Ah, disappointed love has ruined your perspective, my friend. Do you not think girls dress to please themselves? They do tend to delight in the little touches of silk and lace that we often ignore. Who gives a hang about types of muslin but women? Is none of it for their own pleasure?"

Tilney waved away the suggestion. "Snares for us, Bennett, and nothing more. We shall end up like those two broken hearted old men over there," indicating the two elder gentlemen.

"Now, now," Lizzie said, stranded somewhere between exasperation and amusement, "Who's to say they're broken hearted? Perhaps they are merely enjoying the comfort of an understanding silence. They have known each other for decades and are perfectly content to share the fellowship of happy memories."

"You are far too optimistic," Tilney grumbled, reaching for a piece of bread which he buttered with far too much force.

10.2

Tilney regarded Lizzie's comment for some time in silence, before admitting, "Undoubtedly, it must take a great deal to drive a woman into piracy, Bennett." He let his chestnut trot on for a few steps before continuing, "But I think most gels might come by it naturally."

Lizzie tried to cover her growing sense of irritation. "If you had heard her story, Tilney, you would no doubt be moved to tears -- even with your hard heart."

"Oh I don't doubt it, old boy. Just the same, you take the average skirt flirter and you'll find the hardened heart of a criminal."

Although he affected the same careless even tone, Lizzie could see in Tilney's bearing a growing sense of glowering ill humor. While she remained rankled by his comments on her sex in general, Lizzie was determined to find the root of this unfair prejudice. Surely he must not be too fixed in his opinion at such a young age. "I think you should spill, Tilney. What unconscionable petticoat princess has tweaked your nose?"

"Oh, it's a boring old story," Tilney muttered. "The same you'd hear from a hundred others." Nonetheless, his mood seemed to darken further and Lizzie found herself wanting to help her benefactor relieve the burden in his breast.

"Go on then, Tilney. It's a long ride and I'm sure it would help you to share this burden with one uniquely qualified to understand."

Tilney laughed and sounded a little more like himself. "Damme, Bennett! What makes a jackanapes like you at all qualified to understand the problems women cause?"

Lizzie grinned. "Black Ethel took me under her wing in a way. Gave me some insight into the way their minds work. She may be an extraordinary example of one, but she's a woman for all of that."

They rode along in silence for a few steps while Tilney seemed to turn the matter over in his mind. The fields beside them perked up in the golden light of the morning and the calls of doves came from the nearby copse. It was a lovely day.

"There was a girl," Tilney said quietly at last. "She was lovely as a summer's day, long golden hair, delicate hands and the finest of family graces." Lizzie could not help thinking of her cousin Alice and bridling at the thought that golden locks were any indication of the qualities of a young woman, but kept her tongue in check. "She promised to make me the happiest of men, Bennett, and then she threw me over for a long-limbed cad with a bigger fortune and better connections."

"A not uncommon story," Lizzie began, "But --"

"A very common story if you ask me," Tilney said with surprising fury.

"But one that can be told from either side" Lizzie continued evenly. "Why did you choose her in the first place but for her decorative beauty and family connections?"

Tilney did not respond at first, his clouded face staring fixedly at the ground. "I was dizzy about her, Bennett. Wrote her poetry and all that malarkey. I was smitten."

"But what did you know of her beyond polite agreeableness, good connections and long golden locks?" Lizzie persisted. "You probably gave more thought to the cut of your waistcoat than you did to her suitability as your life's companion."

Tilney looked at Lizzie with some annoyance. "She was lovely, well-bred and perfect."

"Did she wake early or late? Did she want to hear news from abroad or only from the local village? Did she read? Did she enjoy architecture? What did you really know of her character and spirit?"

Tilney pulled up short causing Darcy to snort with surprise. "She was my intended, not a candidate for Oxford," he said somewhat brusquely.

"Then I am not surprised she threw you over," Lizzie said with a harsh laugh. "You know your horse better than you knew her. Why do men treat women as if they were children?"

"I suppose they haven't had the benefit of piratical experience," Tilney said, his tone returning to his relaxed drawl once more, but his eyes continued to look rather more fiery than usual.

Runaway Horse

Spooked by a lady's handkerchief, your humble narrator's horse shies and runs away, detaining her from her narrative duties. Another episode will come in due time.

10.1

"Lawks!" Mr. Tilney exclaimed for the umpteenth time, "Such adventures you had with the pirates. I should never have guessed a slight lad such as you to have had the stomach for such goings on."

"Indeed," Lizzie said with some umbrage on behalf of her seized alter ego George Bennett, though she tried to contain her nettled tone, "The size of them man is seldom any indication of character. I have known great men who quailed at the sight of a tiny mouse."

"Now, now, don’t kick up a fuss, Bennett. It's no reflection on fine lad as yourself to say the one finds amazement in all you have accomplished at such a tender age. Duly impressed, that I am."

Lizzie felt her self flush with pride, which her lively bay gelding seemed to sense and picked up his gait a little. They were riding along the eastward road and it was a gorgeous day, perfect for riding in that it was not too hot and the cool breeze from the sea was at their backs. It seemed ages since Lizzie had been on horseback -- how strange an effect kidnapping had on one's life!

There was the inconvenience and horror of the kidnapping itself, but at this moment, Lizzie would not have traded the sequence of events for the world. Their life on board Black Ethel's ship was certainly extraordinary enough, but here she found herself on the road to Italy and while her bay was not quite the fine stepper that Tilney's chestnut Darcy was, he was certainly a strong mount and a joy to bridle.

Tilney himself w as a bit of a puzzle. He maintained such an air of casual decadence with his perpetual cant and his lazy drawl, but those bewitching hazel eyes had a curious habit of probing deftly while his mouth produced a indolent smile. Lizzie knew she had to be on her guard with such a clever clogs. She even suspected once or twice that he had seen through her disguise, but as his behavior betrayed nothing of the sort, she decided that it must be a mistaken worry on her part. It was not so difficult after all, masquerading as a man. She chuckled to herself to think that things would be entirely different in the opposite direction -- what man could master the intricacies of the life of the fairer sex, where myriad strictures demanded an even greater plethora of subterfuges to circumnavigate their bindings. Lizzie chuckled to herself to think with admiration of the innumerable creativities of women.

"What are you thinking about, Bennett, that give you such a saucy grin?" Tinley asked, reining in his chestnut momentarily.

"Women," Lizzie said, the ambiguity of her thoughts and Tilney's appreciation merging in an unexpected frisson.

"Ah, Bennet, will you never learn?" The normally sunny disposition of her partner clouded briefly, Lizzie realized. "Women are treacherous, untruthful and deceiving. You should learn better and be forewarned."

Lizzie gazed with frank curiosity at her companion. "Mr. Tilney --" she began, but with an audible grumble from that target, remembered that she was not to address her pal so formally. "Sorry, Tilney, just used to the demands of pirates. But as Black Ethel herself would no doubt argue, women are no more inclined naturally to vice than men."

"You seem to have unusually strong feelings on the subject, Bennett," Tilney said at last with a hearteningly sober tone.

"When you have traveled with a pirate queen," Lizzie said thoughtfully, "You learn a lot about the worst of the lives of women."

9.99

It was the crushed hopefulness of young miss Forward that spurred Alice on to some kind of inspiration. She thought very hard about the options before them. It was a characteristically unfamiliar activity for Alice, but applying herself assiduously to the task, she soon found that indeed an idea appeared. "We shall go to the strand and talk to young men unchaperoned," she announced with decision.

Constance gasped. Alice reveled in her delicious sense of alarm. It was indeed a daring thought. Although the two of them traveling together stood little likelihood of arousing much of any talk amongst the easy-going French or even the scattered English tourists, Mrs. Forward would certainly be scandalized beyond all composure.

That was a thought worthy of savoring, Alice told herself with some satisfaction.

Constance reacted with a glee she found hard to contain. It manifested in her jumping up and down, clapping her hands together and pressing her lips together to suppress a squeal of delight. "Oh, my, do you think we should -- oh, we must! Won't mother -- do you think the gentlemen will speak to us? I couldn't bear it if they did not speak to us!" Constance had gone from delight to terror in no time at all. All the bright color evoked by the delighted hijinks had drained away to a pale wanness.

Alice, however, was confident. "We shall even dare to speak first. Being gentlemen, they shall have to speak to us."

Constance seemed convinced by this logic and flew at Alice to give her a rough embrace. "You are simply the most amazing young woman, dear Miss Mangrove."

Unaccustomed to this level of hero worship, Alice experienced an untoward dizziness of inflated self-esteem. It was bound to propel them into a properly indecorous adventure. That realization caused Alice to briefly consider swooning with excitement. However, she gathered that firstly, Constance would not be of much use in the case of an emergency, but secondly, that finding herself in the newfound position of a leader, Alice sensed that it was necessary to maintain a sense of decorum.

Instead, Alice threw back her bonnet and let her luxuriant curls bounce in the sunlight. Constance gasped once more, then grinning a little too much like a lunatic Lizzie would have sure noted, threw back her bonnet as well. Unlike Alice, she was not able to keep from looking guiltily about the street for any observers. No one seemed to notice this bold move, however, so the girls giggled delightedly, linked arms and strode together down the high street in the direction of the strand.

9.9

"Mama thinks we should always take some air after eating," Constance said with an air of uncertainty, for she half-feared, half-hoped that Alice would renew the rebellious proclamations she had made prior to their very fine luncheon of braised scallops and yummy red peppers. Constance was still in a dither of excitement about red peppers, if that was any indication of her state of mind. Heretofore having only seen green peppers, she was already in raptures about the wonders of the French experience. Her mother, naturally enough, considered this a bad sign of a potentially libertine nature and decided that henceforth luncheons would need to prove more instructively bland.

None of this had registered with Alice, however, for her thoughts throughout the luncheon had been a slightly petulant study of the same great lady's profile. Who is Mrs. Forward, Alice mused with a resentment tinged slightly by the red peppers' sweetness, to command me? I have sailed the seven seas with pirates, Alice told herself with a shake, who am I to fear this woman? Faithful readers, of course, will recognize that here Alice is fibbing slightly, or at the very least exaggerating, as she had sailed but one sea and that not for long. Perhaps Alice imagined the seas to be rather smaller than they are, believing that she had traveled more than her share. However, it would be difficult -- even for a rather poor student of geography, which certainly Alice was -- to imagine there were very many seas between England and France. One can only assume that truth had fallen by the wayside for this headstrong young woman, along with gratitude, geography and propriety.

I do not need to do as I am told, Alice continued, her words sounding a little prickly even in her own head, as if in response to some perceived criticism, although all was silent as far as she could tell. By silent one must understand that there was a constant chatter on the behalf of the young Miss Forward throughout the meal, punctuated by the occasional reproving murmur from her mother. It was a noisy sort of silence, but one for which no audience was required nor attention from the participants.

I shall do as I please. She is not my mother, Alice said with decision. Not aloud of course, but she felt all the better for voicing the thought firmly in her head. It was as good as saying it out loud with out the inconvenience of having to answer for one's words. When Mrs. Forward announced the required after-luncheon airing, Alice knew she must seize upon the opportunity. Her smile would have seemed crafty and mysterious to a careful reader of a thrilling novel, Alice was certain, then drew her mouth down suddenly in fear of discovery. Must not give away the plan.

Although there was not yet a plan to give away, Alice felt a decided thrill of excitement that she might be hatching a scheme. Now that they were out of sight of the inn, Alice ventured a glance at her companion, whose open face registered only the simple pleasure of walking with her new companion in the cheery seaside sunshine.

"Constance," Alice said with sudden decision, "Would you like to have an adventure?"

Constance beamed. "Yes, please!"

"Then we shall," Alice said with all the confidence of a well-traveled young explorer.

"Where shall we go?" Constance asked, clapping her hands in delight.

"Er," Alice said somewhat deflating her own burgeoning self-importance, "I -- I don't know."