Pride and Prejudice and Superheroes

2. MR BENNET'S DISCOVERY IN THE STABLES

JUST ONE DAY after Mr Bingley had made his residence at Netherfield Park, the oftentimes sarcastic and capricious, but never quixotic, Mr Bennet was among the earliest of those who decided to occasion a visit on Mr Bingley. It would not do, to be the first; for it is never wise to purchase the first pup that yelps towards a potential puppy-seeking buyer. And was not Mr Bennet's intention to "sell" one of his daughters?

Mr Bennet took his favourite stallion, George, to accompany him on his three-and-a-half mile journey. It was he who gave his horse the name George; so named, sarcastically, as was his fashion, because it often foamed at the mouth, as did the horse's namesake—the totally insane King George III. He did not take the smaller chaise because the business of collecting the two working horses that were trained to pull it, and the servant preparation for the said vehicle, would have made his journey an open secret. George might foam at the mouth, but could, unlike the servants, be relied on to keep a secret.

Mr Bennet waited for an opportune moment when his wife and daughters were learning a new song around the piano in the music room, and sped off on George heading for Netherfield Park.

After a fair distance of galloping, the road beneath horse and rider suddenly changed from dirt to gravel as they approached the huge country house.

"Easy there, George," said Mr Bennet quietly, applying the right pressure with his thighs, knees and legs to bring his horse's gallop down to a canter, and then down to a trot. He was now sitting deep and upright in the saddle. A slight squeeze of his thighs and he had George walking at a leisurely pace. Mr Bennet's horsemanship was of such a level of skill, he hardly had a need for use of his reigns, even in changing a horse's direction. "Walk on, George," he said comfortingly as the winding entrance road led to the front of the imposing thirty-year-old Georgian property.

He guided the horse to the side of the building where he knew the stables were waiting.

The stable door opened with a loud creak.

"Ah, Mr Bennet," shouted the stable master running out of the stables and towards the carefully dismounting Mr Bennet. "I'll look after yer steer. It's good old George, if I not be mistaken."

"You have it," said Mr Bennet. He then smiled at the stable master. They both walked into the stables.

"The new master's expecting you this afternoon?" asked the stable master.

"Ah yes, I arranged the meeting a few days ago with his head servant."

"You came here a few days ago? Not by horse then?" The stable master began unsaddling George.

"No. I walked. My skin could not be denied of the sun. It was a beautiful September day. We are not often granted the pleasure of those."

"Aye, true enough."

"I will not be more than an hour, I dare say."

"No bother, Mr Bennet, sir. I'll leave George here by the door when I've finished up cleaning and refreshing him. Just take him of your own accord when you're ready to leave."

"Mr Jackson, you are a shining star in an oftentimes dark and foreboding sky. I thank you."

The stable master gave a bashful laugh. "I does my job, that's all."

Mr Bennet was about to turn and walk out of the stables when his scholarly eye struck upon a most unusual sight. His eyebrows arched and framed a most inquisitive look.

"Mr Jackson," he said clearly and mustering what authority life had bestowed upon him, "what on earth is that?" He pointed to a darkened corner at the back of the stables.

"My eyesight's not what it used to be, Mr Bennet," answered the stable master. Peering with squinted eyes in the direction of Mr Bennet's pointing finger, like a man attempting to sneak a peep at the sun for any evidence of sunspots.

"That?" questioned Mr Bennet lowering his pointing finger and walking confidently towards the back of the stables. "Oh dear!" exclaimed the stable master, following Mr Bennet and looking extremely guilty and deeply concerned. "That's the master's business, Mr Bennet. It's supposed to be hidden."

They came to a standstill, reaching their target.

"See, look, sir?" said the stable master. "The tarpaulin sheet that hides this corner of the stables has fallen down from the overhead beam. My fault. Ooh, struth. If Mr Bingley finds out you've seen this, I'll be collecting nuts and berries."

"Mr Jackson, I will say this, and you can depend upon it, your indiscretion is a safe secret between you and I." Mr Bennet gave the cowering stable master an encouraging look. "Head up, man. Head up."

"I knows your word is true, Mr Bennet. I thank you." The stable master let out a sigh of relief, but still had a look of concern on his face as he took to staring at the unhidden "thing". He gently shook his head as if the "thing" was something unfathomable, as if it had no place in the stable—no place in his October 1811 world.

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I hope you enjoyed this Chapter. I welcome any votes, comments or constructive criticisms (style, spelling, grammar and punctuation errors).

T. J. P. CAMPBELL.