It had been easy to forget after seeing him in frayed trousers and borrowed boots.
The verdant lawns called to her, but Elizabeth pulled her attention away from the temptation to another, more handsome one. Fitzwilliam waited for them by the front door of his fine residence.
Having so little luggage, it did not take the group long to settle and refresh themselves. They reconvened in a parlor with large windows facing the park. High ceilings and elegant furniture clustered in perfect balance with the proportion of the large room added to the grandness of the house.
Fitzwilliam’s knee bobbed up and down, and he hardly touched the generous repast spread over the table. Elizabeth had been hungry, but shefelt his nerves as keenly as if they were her own, and she only managed a few bites before she gave up.
Finally, when Fitzwilliam looked about to burst, he rose and addressed Papa. “Would you like to see the library, Mr. Bennet?”
Elizabeth was eager to see the library herself. She pushed her chair away to join them.
Nick set his roll down on his plate. “I’ve never traveled to yer part of the country, Miss Elizabeth. What’s it like growing up on an estate like…?”
“Longbourn,” she supplied, settling back into her chair with resignation. Papa and Fitzwilliam had already disappeared down the hall.
He snapped his fingers. “That’s it, Longbourn. What do ye do all day?”
“My mother, sisters, and I read edifying books, write letters, draw landscapes, embroider flowers on cushions, paint tables…”
Nick made a face. His interest dissipated the moment his brother and her father left the room, setting Elizabeth’s suspicions on high alert. However, Nick gave such a gallant effort asking questions about something he knew nothing about, Elizabeth tried her best to make estate living sound as exciting as she could make it. Unannounced calls were more annoying than exciting, but still, she tried.
What did Fitzwilliam want with her father? What did they have to talk about for over a quarter of an hour?
Just as she was about to dismiss herself and ask the housekeeper to show her the way to the library, Fitzwilliam appeared in the doorway, pink-cheeked and smiling. He did not look nervous anymore. “Mr. Bennet declares the library satisfactory and has already informed me that we ought to dine without him this evening, as he has more pressing matters to attend to.”
Lord Matlock rose with a chuckle. “And I shall retire early to my rooms. This old man requires more rest than you young ones.”
Fitzwilliam’s eyes met Elizabeth’s, and the look in his eyes, the happiness she saw, made her impatient with curiosity.
“Would you care to accompany me for a stroll down to the river, Miss Elizabeth?”
She could have kissed him. “I would love nothing more.”
Alexandra tossed her napkin onto her plate and shoved her chair back. “I’m in need of some activity, too.”
Nick’s eyes widened. “I’ll walk with ye. Wouldn’t ye rather peek inside the shops?”
She scowled. “What use’ll ye be when neither of us has been to Bath before? Me bum is sore after so much travel, and I’d like Darcy to show us the sights.”
Miss Rothschild said, “I hear the abbey is an impressive structure. We are not far. In fact, I believe I observed the bell tower on our way here.”
Their party of two soongrew to six, and Fitzwilliam’s smile was now a decided scowl, aimed mostly at Alexandra. He could not have looked more like a cross older brother than he did at that moment. When the colonel gave him a teasing shove, Elizabeth observed the struggle with which Fitzwilliam restrained himself from shoving back.
Elizabeth’s humor rose, and she laughed. “The more, the merrier.”
Fitzwilliam did not agree, but his scowl lightened. By the time they reached King’s Circus, his manners had improved from tempestuous to only slightly blustering.
A perfect circle of houses surrounded them. Several groups of ladies and gentlemen picnicked on the grass, and passersby stumbled over the uneven ground, too enraptured with the new architecture to pay heed to their feet. Clusters of young men and soldiers laughed and talked loudly.
Fitzwilliam offered his arm. “There is a spot in the center of this circle where everything echoes.”
She tilted her chin and arched an eyebrow. “Is that why you chose to live at the Crescent? To avoid the cacophony?”
He laughed. “That is precisely why. Too many people clap their hands just to hear the echo.”
“I should think most people would enjoy being surrounded by constant applause.” She grinned. “Shall we give it a try?”
He tugged her forward, then came to a stop at aparticular spot. Raising his hands, he clapped … and received an ovation in return.
