“I do indeed.” Elizabeth smiled and hugged her friend. “Shall we be off, Miss Baxter?”
“Yes, I am ready.”
“If you keep your squirming to a minimum, I can do both you and Miss Mary’s hair in time for you to catch your sunrise.”
“Thank you, Colleen,” Elizabeth said as she and Miss Baxter hurried from the room.
When they reached the landing at the top of the stairs, Darcy looked up from his post at the bottom. A smile lit his eyes and went so far as to stretch his mouth into a near grin. His curlybrown hair bounced as he moved to await them at the centre of the steps. The sight of him in his dark green coat and brown breeches was a familiar one at this point. Familiarity, it seemed in this case, did not breed indifference. Her nerves jumbled and danced within her as they did every time she looked at him after an absence of more than an hour. Every time.
“Good morning, ladies,” he greeted them when they were close enough. His deep voice tinged with pleasure only increased the fluttering inside her. She kept her head down and took the final few steps, working to slow her heartbeat and steady her breathing. She heard Miss Baxter offer her greeting.
“Is it too early to expect a smile and a hello from you, Miss Elizabeth?” he teased.
She had just gotten herself under control, and he had to go and speak her name and tease her. Had he no mercy? After one more deep breath, she ventured to speak.
“Of course not.” She smiled up at him but made an effort to not look into his compelling eyes, keeping her gaze somewhere near his shoulder. “But as you are often reminding me of my extreme youth, I thought it best to concentrate on the stairs lest I stumble. I have not been in the habit of descending without help for nearly as long as you.”
“A wise choice, I commend you. Now that you are on solid ground, I am all anticipation.”
“Good morning, Master Fitzwilliam,” she said, her voice sickly sweet. Then she dared a look right at him to offer her overbright smile. “I hope you are well on this fine day, that yournight was restful and you are as eager as I for this magnificent outing we are about to embark upon.”
He chuckled softly, and though this did nothing to calm Elizabeth’s nerves, her pride at having elicited such a thing trumped all else.
“It seems you are becoming quite proficient in small talk. You could perhaps enquire after my digestion and comment more minutely on the weather if you seek perfection in the field, but I confess I should be sorry if you traded your usual conversation for trivial niceties.”
“I shall make a note of your preferences,” she responded, keeping, for the most part, her elation at the implied compliment from her voice.
“See that you do,” he quipped before indicating the side door which would take them to the path to the stables.
The familiar route to the stables and routine of greeting the hands and horses, mounting and setting out, still thrilled Elizabeth even two summers after having earned the privilege of riding a full-grown mount and being given almost exclusive use of the swift and steady Hephaestus. She ran her fingers through his black mane and began, as was her custom, to tell him of all the grand adventures they would have together that day.
“We are short on time,” Darcy called over his shoulder. Elizabeth rode directly behind him with Miss Baxter in the rear. “Shall we ride hard?”
“And take the shortcut?” Elizabeth asked excitedly.
It had two jumps, one over a small rock wall and one a fence. Nothing thrilled her more than jumping at full speed.
Darcy considered this for a moment, still looking at her as their mounts knew the path to the trail well. “Very well,” he said at last. “Is that all right with you, Miss Baxter?”
“Certainly.” She was at least as accomplished a rider as Darcy, and Elizabeth suspected she enjoyed the jumps and any opportunity for a good gallop as much as herself.
“Hup!” Darcy urged his mount on, and they took off. Elizabeth followed and she heard Miss Baxter do the same. For the next ten minutes, Elizabeth thought of nothing but what was in that moment: the sound of hoofs pounding, loud and sharp on the paths and muted and steady through the fields. The way her heart raced and settled in turns, seeming to keep pace with that of Hephaestus. The blur of green and brown as they flew past the trees, and the smell of smoke and flowers. Though she was excited to catch the sunrise over Pemberley Lake for the first time, she was sorry when, only a quarter of an hour after it began, the ride was over.
“It is hard to believe you have not been riding your whole life,” Darcy said to Elizabeth as she and Hephaestus arrived in the clearing and moved next to his horse Poseidon as Darcy tethered him to the hitching post and pulled some hay from the trough to rub him down. Darcy moved to help her dismount, and though her heart leapt at his touch, it was over so quickly she was able to talk herself into normalcy fairly quickly. By the time she and Miss Baxter had rubbed down their horses, she was reasonably steady.
“If you ladies are interested, the prospect is completely unobstructed from a spot below—just down this path. The way is a bit rocky, but the view is quite worth the effort,” he explained, pointing to the ancient trees which lined the path and the lake.
“If you do not object, Master Fitzwilliam, I will content myself on the bench here.” Miss Baxter responded. “I turned my ankle last week, as you may remember, and I do not want to risk it on such uneven ground.”
“I have no objections, of course. You are wise to be cautious. Ankle injuries can be slow to heal.”
“Thank you, yes. I am finding that to be the case, unfortunately. I am nearly back to normal, but that last little bit of healing seems to be taking some time.”
“But should we not stay together? I would not mind staying here,” Elizabeth said, though she longed to do as Darcy suggested and not simply because it was he who suggested it. Any path at Pemberley she had not yet discovered was sufficient temptation, as was a better view of the very spectacle they had journeyed to see. She had no skill to capture such beauty with a pencil or brush, but she was eager to add this sunrise to her mental gallery, which she could draw on any time she needed a little beauty in her life.
“No, Miss Lizzy, I insist. I can see the path from here as well as the landing. You need not worry. You are quite well chaperoned regardless.”
“Very well, if you are certain you do not mind,” Elizabeth responded after a moment’s surprise at this response.
