In bed, Elizabeth had a power over him, that when they joined together, how she touched him, and that she accepted him into her, was terribly important to him. He somehow became… innocent. Simpler. Different.
And she loved the way he looked at her as they made love, and she loved how she knew she was wanted.
“You will love Pemberley.” He spoke with assurance.
“An order?” She smiled at him.
“I only make orders where such is necessary. This is a confident prediction — I’ve seen enough of what brings you joy, enough of your habits.”
“You have already learned me so well?” Her hand was still on his hand, she wanted to entangle her fingers with his, but she was not brave enough to do so.
“Youwilllike Pemberley. And ah—” He moved his hand away from hers and peered out the window of the carriage. “This stream,” he smiled, turning back to her, a happy and unusually relaxed smile, “it is the border between my land, and that of Mr. Pyke’s.”
The carriage clattered over a small cobblestoned bridge,before the sound became softer again when they reached the packed dirt on the other side.
Darcy had a broad boyish grin as he looked at the trees, glancing in turn out each side of the carriage. “Nothing quite like home!”
They traveled through a small wood. Then Darcy pointed to the fields on the right, with a large barn and farmhouse near the road. “These are mine, and the forest is wholly mine. On the left is freehold land that the old yeomen living there never sold to my ancestors. But fine farmers, and not so prickly as to be unwilling to cooperate in joint matters, so long as they are treated with sufficient respect.”
“I am surprised that you condescend to that.”
“They are my neighbors, even if they are from a lower station in life.”
She could hardly get a full picture of his character. The pictures she had received of him were so often contradictory. And though in the main she tended to dislike him, there was much about him to like.
Despite his obsessive awareness of his superior station with regards to her family, he was always kind and generous to his servants, and he always left ample tips for the innkeepers, and he expected his people to try to avoid making the lives of the staff at the inns they stayed in more difficult.
One part of the solution to the mystery was clear: The innkeepers could never pretend to equality, so he could be the generous lord with them.
But he wasin facta generous lord.
The land displayed wide hedges and fine fields covered in sparse snow. The roads and houses showed signs of recent painting, filling of potholes, and clearing of snow and fallen leaves.
As they went along Darcy pointed out the sights, namedthe hills, and simply smiled.
It made him seem terribly attractive, and different from the forbidding daytime aspect he usually wore like a cloak. Well did Elizabethnowunderstand what Bingley had meant when he said that he did not know a more awful object than Darcy on particular occasions, and in particular places, especially when he had nothing to do.
Nothing of that in him now.
“You are very proud of your home.”
“I…” Darcy paused. And that relaxed smile crossed his face again. “I am, very. But that is only natural.”
“Will we pass near Lambton?”
“Lambton? No, it is five miles distant, and to the west of the house, while we approach from the southeast… Why do you ask? The town is distant enough that we do not often patronize it.”
“Oh.”
Elizabeth was silent and flushed again. She was disappointed to hear that, though Mrs. Gardiner had repeatedly mentioned that the town was five miles distant, which she realizednowmade it clear that there would likely be a different market town closer to them. Yet, she’d been hoping to see the place, and spend some time there, simply because it might make her feel a little closer to her aunt, and thus to the world she’d been dragged from.
“Do tell—” Darcy took her hand in his. His finger softly stroked over her knuckles. “It is a charming town. All brown and white timber frame, with a red brick church. Some lovely shops. I remember as a child in my wanderings climbing the old walnut in the village center.”
She tilted her head. “I can hardly imagine you wandering so far from home.”
“We did.” Darcy frowned.
“We? Was it Colonel Fitzwilliam who was your childhood companion in these wanderings?”
