“You certainly should not.Shemight shoot you.”
Darcy flushed at this hint that the said wife would be Elizabeth.
“Do not imitatemyways of being. Should you ever find yourself to be heartbroken—I do not think this likely, but one never knows—do not marry a very pretty girl who you are fond of, but not in love with, and whose mind and temper you have no reason to be confident in.”
“You did love Elizabeth’s mother?”
“Very much so. But who knows. Perhaps if we had married, we would have disappointed each other in various ways—but...Lizzy is very much like she was. I think that is part of why I became so attached to her at first. It was like I was raisingourdaughter. But long since I ceased to think anything of that. Though part of why Lizzy’s education was so eccentric is that I wished to raise her exactly to my own taste, and Mrs. Bennet certainly did not interfere. I wished her to not be what I imagined the proper daughter of an earl would be. You cannot imagine my disappointment when I learned that Lord Rochester was delighted that I’d taught her to shoot.”
Darcy could not help but smile at that.
Then Elizabeth walked up to them. “Papa, trying to make Mr. Darcy read a book?”
“I believe he likes the practice—but you two off. Go walk about. Frolic. Be young. Give me that back. I am near my favorite part, when Caesar builds the walls of contravallation around Alesia.”
Elizabeth and Darcy wandered off into the park. The crowd of guests were thin here, as those who were not planning to stay until the dancing after dinner were leaving.
The two of them did not precisely avoid the other guests, but they did walk about in such a way that anything they might say to each other was absolutely private. They strolled around the massive green lawn, with the artfully placed oak trees all around, and the well-manicured gravel pathways circling.
“I liked seeing you speak happily to Papa,” Elizabeth said.
Darcy quirked a smile. “I like him, though I cannot approve of him in every particular.”
“That is not what I expected you to say.”
Darcy took her arm. “He enjoys his jokes, and he shall pursue them to an extent that is surprising.”
“Ah. That. Yes.” Elizabeth laughed. “I dare say he does. Which one did he tell you about?”
“I am under a not particularly solemn oath of secrecy.”
This brought more laughter from Elizabeth.
“You,” Darcy said to her, “have a remarkable ability to act as the gracious great lady without more than a few days of being told that you must inhabit the part. I am impressed.”
Elizabeth flushed. “I hope I do not seem too high handed, or haughty. I do feel as though I am adopting a role. Like I always do. That seems to be something which knowing the truth of my circumstances has not changed. Yet there are parts of the role that I enjoy very much—at this moment the right, and even the expectation to be eccentric and draw notice.”
“Fine shooting, with some practice you may one day be able to edge out Mr. King.”
Elizabeth laughed. “No, no. I would not wish to practice at my aim nearly so much as he does. And he has a natural feel and eye for it. It shall satisfy me if I am only known as the second best shot in the neighborhood—I almost wish itwasdifficult. That it was not so easy to determine on a role and play it.”
“If you wish, you might participate in theatricals.”
“I wish to go to London,” Elizabeth replied, “and watch a great many plays.”
“Then you shall.”
They smiled at each other.
Another stroll under a shaded grove. The sun was bright and hot, but the beauty all about was clear. Despite the building being less than fifty years old, Netherfield had a great deal of the picturesque.
“The integrity and goodness of your character is too deep seated for external circumstances to change it.” Darcy said to her, “You always have been a woman well worth knowing, and well worth admiring. You were as truly admirable when you believed yourself to be poor and a natural child.”
Her face went very pink. She smiled at him, boldly meeting his eyes, but then looked to the side and down.
A thrill went through Darcy. He should ask her now.
Darcy’s mouth was dry. He swallowed and with a sharp swooping feeling in his stomach began to say, “I think, Elizabeth—”
