I knew what I had to do but, given my present company, was disinclined to do it. In my conversations with Elizabeth, she had revealed a secret that no doubt set her apart from everyone else who attempted to ride the stubborn mare. I had spent most of the previous three nights attempting to recall enough to perform the skill competently.
Richard and Bingley silently waited, proving themselves to be absolutely useless.
Smoke curled from a chimney in the distance. In all likelihood, it came from Longbourn’s parlor. I was close enough to smell it.
Tugging on the reins once more, I begged the mare to comply and spare me the need to humiliate myself lower than my pride could bear in front of these two witnesses, who would callously mock me.
Another tug. Another plea. Both met with a staunch refusal to budge.
I took another look at the smoke, imagining I saw the top of Longbourn’s chimney stack, and summoned my courage. Taking a deep breath, I sang the only song whose lyrics I could confidently recall. It was the song Georgiana’s nurse sang every night to put my baby sister to sleep.
Slumber, dear maid
Richard guffawed, but I continued.
Green boughs will cover thee
The mare took a step forward. Richard howled. Bingley was too polite to laugh aloud, though I could see him struggling against Richard’s influence.
Cometh breathe over thee
Where though art laid.
Slumber dear maid.
I sang, more confident now with the horse walking at a brisk clip. Perhaps she was as eager as I was to reach her destination and put an end to my serenade. When the song ended, I repeated it.
Longbourn finally came into view, to my immense relief. I continued my song all the way to the side of the house where I hoped Elizabeth would be seated by the window.
There was a flurry of movement behind the glass, and I saw her hop closer to press her fingers against the pane. Our eyes met. For a glorious moment, she directed her happiness toward me and not the gift I had brought her.
My heart swelled in my chest. Finally, I had brought Elizabeth a gift worthy of the sentiments I felt for her. And while she was clearly delighted to have her precious horse returned to Longbourn’s stables, she smiled atme.She reached up to her cheek, swiping her fingers over her skin.
Without a thought, I held her handkerchief up toward her. She did not seem to realize it was hers, but Mrs. Bennet, who stood beside her, surely did. She clasped her hands together at her bosom, swayed in place, and said something that changed the way Elizabeth looked at me.
CHAPTER 17
Istood rooted in place for heaven knows how long, a stupid grin pulling my lips upward and my eyes seeing only the lady I hoped to marry standing in the window.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy! How happy we are to see you!”
I blinked to see Mrs. Bennet tugging Mr. Bennet over to me, talking all the while. “You know how welcome you have always been at Longbourn!”
Mr. Bennet cast me a wry smile. “As are Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Bingley.”
Only then did his wife notice my companions, and my pride did a satisfied little jig. Richard would torment me for years about my conduct this morning, but I no longer cared. The reward far surpassed the embarrassment I had endured. Elizabeth still watched me, her hand pressed against the glass. If she asked me, I would sing another verse.
Mrs. Bennet led Richard and Bingley inside the house, and Elizabeth’s mare allowed the stableboy to lead her to her stall, leaving Mr. Bennet alone with me.
There was an awkward pause. I was about to make the suggestion that we join the others, but he remarked, “I pray you never have a daughter, Mr. Darcy.”
I stood mute beside him, not knowing what to say at the implication of his statement.
He gestured at the window where his favorite daughter sat watching us?though my cousin, no doubt, was doing his best to distract her—and continued, “One look at you with her large, pleading eyes and she will have her pony… and whatever else her heart desires.” He looked at me directly, and I saw his heart breaking.
I could not apologize for wishing to take his daughter away, but I would not add to his sorrow by admitting as much aloud right then.
Mr. Bennet sniffed and dabbed his eyes. “It does a man good to make a fool of himself over a woman.”
