Chapter 73: The Art of Angling
The next morning, Darcy set aside his paper, finished his coffee, and rose. Crossing to his wife, he bent and kissed her temple.
“Elizabeth, I will be on the eastern side of the estate this morning. The tenant has reported that a fence is down. If you have need of me, send Peter Miller. He will know where to find me.” He left her side, but turned again at the door. “If you go out to walk, take one of the Miller brothers with you.”
Elizabeth frowned. “I will, but you know I detest being trailed by a footman.”
“Yes, I do know, because you tell me just how you feel every time this comes up.” He bent to kiss her, and his lips lingered on hers. “Hmm, Elizabeth, you are so sweet.” His voice was low and intimate. He stood. “Please, darling, humor me. I would be worried all morning if I knew you were out alone.”
She softened. “Oh, very well, but only because I love you and I do not want you to be worried about me.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth.” He left her then.
Charlotte and Georgiana entered the breakfast parlor and began to serve themselves, just as Elizabeth was finishing her meal. She looked at her friend. “Charlotte, have you anything planned for today?”
“I have nothing particular in mind. I have drafted an inventory for the stillroom, and I thought we could go to Lambton or Kimpton to purchase the herbs. Why?” Charlotte looked up from her plate. “Why are you laughing, my friend? It looks like you have some deviltry in mind.”
Elizabeth looked pleased. “I thought we might go down to the creek or the lake and practice our casting. I doubt we shall require a creel, though we will take one in case fortune favors us.”
Charlotte laughed. “Are you feeling uncertain of your skills, Lizzy?”
“Are not you?” Elizabeth retorted. “It has been several years since I last held a rod. I would rather not betray my awkwardness before four expert anglers. And I need not remind you that three of them are eligible bachelors.”
“You are right,” Charlotte admitted, giggling. “If I hope to angle for a prize, I must first prove I can skillfully cast a line, or how else shall I catch a gentleman’s eye?”
Georgiana, who had been listening with interest, spoke up. “I wish to come too. I have never even held a rod.”
“Then what are we waiting for, ladies?” Elizabeth declared. “I shall ask Walters to send Peter for three rods and a creel. He shall drive us to the spot where the creek meets the lake. Perhaps he will know the best pools.” She glanced at Georgiana. “My dear, you had better change into something old, so that you will not mind if it snags or smells of fish. Charlotte, what of you?”
“I shall wear a gown I keep for the stillroom,” Charlotte said, laughing.
Elizabeth looked down at her own attire. “I have my oldest tree-climbing dress on. I kept it because it reminds me of all the hours I spent reading while I sat in a tree atop Oaken Mount. And now I can wear it for a day of fishing. Fitzwilliam never even noticed I was wearing this old rag.”
Charlotte finished her coffee. “Your husband is besotted with you, Lizzy; he sees only the woman, not what she is wearing.”
Elizabeth stood up. “You are likely correct. It is just as well. Had he known we were going to fish, he would have joined us, and I prefer to practice privately, in case I have lost my touch.”
The ladies were soon ready, and Peter drove them to a well-known fishing hole. At Elizabeth’s request, he brought a rod for himself. As they alighted, she said, “Peter, I am sorry to inform you that you must make use of the flies we dressed ourselves. They may not be very effective.”
He chuckled good-naturedly. “It is well, Mrs. Darcy.” He turned to Georgiana. “Miss Darcy, since you have never fished, shall I show you the method before I cast my own line?”
Georgiana looked uncertainly at Elizabeth, who nodded. “That would be helpful, Peter. Charlotte and I fished often with our fathers and her brothers, but it has been five or six years since last I cast a line.”
Before long, all three ladies were stationed along the creek. At Elizabeth’s first attempt, Peter called Georgiana to observe. With practiced grace, Elizabeth cast her line across the water; the silk-and-feather fly alighted as delicately as thistledown. Almost at once, a trout rose, and with a deft strike she secured it.
Peter ran for the creel, admiring her skill. Georgiana clapped her hands. Charlotte’s cast followed with equal elegance, and Peter, much impressed, confessed he had never seen ladies of gentility fish before. He then devoted himself to Georgiana, who, after some mishaps and much laughter, soon cast without catching her gown or endangering the footman.
By the end of two hours, Elizabeth had caught her trout, Charlotte had caught another, and Peter had caught two besides. They returned near three o’clock, the women retiring upstairs for baths while Peter carried the catch below. Elizabeth instructed that his fish remain for his own table, while the two caught by herself and Charlotte were to be served at dinner.
That evening, when the trout appeared, Darcy looked up in surprise. “Elizabeth, did you order fish?”
She smiled slyly. “Charlotte and I caught them this afternoon. Peter showed us the best spots.”
Georgiana, her eyes bright with excitement, turned to her brother and said, “Brother, I am learning to cast a line. Oh, but you must see Lizzy, she does it with such ease and grace that it appears almost an art form.”
The conversation dwelt on angling throughout dinner, and afterwards the ladies set themselves to dressing new flies, tearing apart the defective ones to remake them more skillfully. Charlotte determined to carry her collection with her, for the admiration of a certain gentleman yet unknown. Elizabeth, in her heart, prayed that he might prove the right one.
The ladies retired to the drawing room, and Mr. Darcy joined them later. Charlotte and Georgiana remained occupied with their flies, the table before them scattered with feathers, silk threads, and tiny hooks. Elizabeth, seated nearby, was reading aloud from Radcliffe’sThe Italianto help the two women pass the time while they worked with their hands.
