“Not at all. I am content here and would hate for you to miss a perfect view.”
Darcy thanked Miss Baxter and then offered Elizabeth his arm. She took it absently, almost too distracted to appreciate the sensation of his arm under her hand, the strength of his distinct scent when he walked so close or the care he took to remove branches from their path and guide her around rocks and puddles. The path took them, rather steeply, down a hill, and she had to lean on his arm several times to stay upright.
When they reached a small landing that pushed into the hillside, creating a half-circle dotted with small trees and wildflowers, Darcy led Elizabeth to the stone bench in the centre. They sat side by side just in time to see the sun emerge over the distant peaks. In silence, they watched as the clear dark sky became blue, tinged with orange and red and lighting the lake, fields and forest below. When the sun had cleared all hurdles and shone above unencumbered, Elizabeth sighed, her mind turning back to Miss Baxter’s comments.
“What is wrong?” Darcy asked, interrupting her swirling thoughts.
“Nothing at all,” she responded automatically. “That was absolutely worth the journey. Thank you for sharing this place.”
“I knew you would appreciate it, and if you do not wish to tell me what is troubling you, I will not press, but if I might be of assistance, I trust you will tell me.”
“I am sure you would or could be if I were able to put into words the agitation in my mind.”
“What precipitated the agitation?”
She thought for a moment before deciding she may as well tell him, and perhaps, like with Jane or her father, discussing it would bring her clarity.
“What Miss Baxter said about being chaperoned.”
“Were you concerned about me?” he asked, alarm evident in his voice.
They still sat side by side with at least a foot between them, but as Darcy spoke, he moved further from her even as he turned more fully towards her.
“No, of course not,” she rushed to assure him, then took a moment to consider how to explain. “It was the implication . . . or the reality that I am of an age where I must be supervised—that it is unacceptable for me to walk with a friend.”
“That is not exactly the case,” Darcy replied.
“It is,” she countered. “And it is not that I object to being chaperoned or Miss Baxter, but it just feels like this summer, this time is an in-between and I cannot help but look behind and see how I fit in my family, in my neighbourhood, here. It is all familiar and certain.”
“And when you look ahead?”
“It is new and different, and I am learning that I am somewhat averse to change,” she said, offering a small smile.
“Well, if it helps, I see you as the same girl who befriended my sister in the woods and, after returning her to us, refused my escort and then taught me how to properly apologise.”
Elizabeth thought about that day she met the Darcy siblings. She felt exactly like the girl she was then and yet somehow unlike her as well.
“That does help, actually. Thank you. And I did eventually accept your company,” she reminded him.
“It took a great deal of persuasion to get you to do so if I recall, but my memory may be faulty as even all those years ago you seemed to believe I was quite ancient—a belief you expressed again just this morning.”
Though Elizabeth remembered every word of their conversations, she was surprised and pleased to find his memory so precise. Darcy stood and offered her his hand. She took it, adding another memory to her collection, the sensation of her hand in his, his eyes on her, the sunshine illuminating him from behind giving him an otherworldly appearance as he bent to help her rise. It would likely be a clearer image for her looking back than that beautiful sunrise.
As she linked her arm in his, she teased, “Perhaps I should not lean too heavily on your arm as men your age are not to be relied upon when traversing such treacherous ground.”
His laugh framed the picture she had already locked away.
“I do not pretend to know what it is like to be a young lady; in fact, I am hoping as you blaze the trail ahead of Georgiana, you will be giving me advice in years to come, but I do know that growing up is a tricky business. Do not be too hard on yourself for feeling uncertain. When in doubt, trust the counsel of your family and friends.”
“That is sound wisdom. I shall trust it,” she told him. “I appreciate your listening to me.”
“Anytime, Miss Elizabeth,” he assured her as they reached Miss Baxter.
As they rode home at a more sedate pace, Elizabeth’s mind, heart and spirit whirred with all that she had seen and felt, and of course, at least half of any space she had for thought and feeling was taken up by Darcy.
The Darcy family was much missed at Barlow Hall, but Mary and Elizabeth enjoyed the final weeks of their visit and most especially their final dinner at which Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner told them that their family party would be increased by one just before Christmas. The girls were overjoyed for their relations, and Elizabeth was particularly gratified to be invited to spend the December holidays at Barlow Hall, attending to Mrs. Gardiner and the new baby.
Chapters Six
