With no Caroline Bingley to drive him to hide in the bottle and from the company, Hurst was alert and observant of what was occurring around him.
“Do not look at me, I was too busy speaking to Jane,” Bingley raised his snifter in salute. “Fitzwilliam does have the right of it. If I had not plucked up the courage and talked to her, I would not be engaged to the best woman in the world.”
He sipped his libation slowly as he cogitated. What the others were saying was correct, the only way he would know was to risk his heart and let the alluring Miss Elizabeth know how he felt. The three eldest Bennet sisters would be arriving on the morrow in the morning and Darcy resolved to find a time he would be able to have a few moments with Miss Elizabeth.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Elizabeth was feeling confused and conflicted. Why did she allow Mr. Darcy to affect her so? The truth was, she had felt an instant attraction to the man when she first saw him enter the assembly hall. Because of her immediate infatuation with the handsome man from Derbyshire, Elizabeth had never admitted openly—or even to herself—how much his slight had wounded her fledgling hopes and her vanity. Her prejudice had been excited and directed at Mr. Darcy as a means of protecting her bruised heart.
All of that changed at Netherfield Park.
Her petticoats and walking dress had been, as the Bingley sisters had pointed out as much and as often as they could, at least six inches deep in mud. Mr. Darcy had not looked down on her for that at all. In fact, on her way up the stairs, she had heard first Mr. Bingley and then Mr. Darcy defend her actions as sisterly affection.
She had not understood his actions while she had been resident at Netherfield Park—one minute gallant and solicitous, and the next standoffish and haughty. His behaviour had helped Elizabeth guard her heart as she told herself a man of his social and economic standing would not look to align himself with her. At the same time, she had considered the fact he was a gentleman farmer like her father, so in that they were equal.
Luckily, before her heart had led her on a merry dance, her future brother-in-law had mentioned the supposed engagement between Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh.
It had become her shield over her heart as she tamped down any romantic inclinations for the extremely handsome, intelligent, and well-built man. That shield had been shattered at the ball when he had informed her of the error of her cousin’s assertion.
She had fallen back on her mantra of him considering her too far below him in order to once again protect herself from the inevitable heartbreak she would suffer if she followed where her heart desired to lead her.
Jane had informed her of her wonderful news the night they returned home and as happy as she was for her dearest sister, Elizabeth felt trepidation in the inevitable. She would be in Mr. Darcy’s company often, and she was sure she would not be able to stop her heart from going where it wanted to go. It had been a relief to Elizabeth when Mr. Darcy departed the day after the ball as it would be far easier for her not to be constantly reminded of what she could not have.
Now, not only had he returned with Jane’s fiancé, but he had brought his sister and cousins with him. It had seemed to Elizabeth earlier when the visitors from Netherfield Park were present that Mr. Darcy had been encouraging a closeness between her and his sister.
She knew not what he meant by that—more likely she did not want herself to believe what it could mean—and then there were the looks. The looks which, once she finally acknowledged Jane and Charlotte’s correctitude that they were in fact conveying an interest in her—and not to find fault as she had told herself once—sent a frisson of pleasure shooting up her spine and made her feel warm all over.
Elizabeth was sure he was too honourable to trifle with her—or any woman’s—emotions but in a final, desperate attempt to guard her heart she convinced herself that until, or unless, he spoke on the subject, she was misinterpreting things.
Lying in her bed, next to a slumbering Jane, sleep did not come easily to Elizabeth as these thoughts swirled around in her head. Just before she finally allowed Morpheus to wrap his arms around her, she decided she would take an early morning ramble to Oakham Mount, weather permitting of course. It was, after all, a sure way to clear her mind.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Darcy allowed Zeus his head in the cold morning air. Both horse and rider’s breaths were visible as they exhaled with the exercise they were sharing. After a good gallop, he pulled back on the reins and allowed his stallion to start the process of cooling down. Much steam was rising from Zeus’s flanks and neck.
He pointed his horse toward the hill which the locals called a mount—a misnomer in his opinion—at a canter. About three-quarters of the way there, he slowed his steed to a walk.
Horse and rider arrived at the base of the hill and Darcy had his horse trot around the foot of the hill until he found the path which led up to the top. Knowing Zeus would never run off once he dismounted, Darcy allowed the reins to fall loose so his stallion would be able to find some grass on which to munch.
About halfway up the path, Darcy heard the sweet sounds of someone singing—a lady for sure. It took another note or two for him to identify the singer by her voice. It was Miss Elizabeth.
When they had been at Lucas Lodge early in their acquaintance, he had heard her sing and been enraptured by her voice. Then Miss Bingley had interrupted him with her nonsense. He could not remember ever taking more pleasure from hearing another sing, not even the professionals at the opera.
Unsure how to proceed, Darcy froze where he stood on the path, still a little below the summit of the hill. At first, he decided she would not want her solitude disturbed and hence he turned to make his way back down the path. But then he heard Richard’s voice and the conversation they had the previous evening.
He stopped his descent and turned around. ‘You are being a coward. If she is not interested in getting to know you better in a courtship, it will not change the answer whether it be now or later. You have never turned tail and run from situations before; you will not begin today!’ Darcy berated himself silently as he began to walk towards the top once again.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Elizabeth had arrived at Oakham Mount with as many, if not more, questions running through her head as she had the previous night when she had battled to fall asleep. Her ramble—almost a run at the punishing pace she had maintained—had done nothing to clear her head.
On reaching the mount, she had made her way to the summit and had taken a seat on a rock facing the east. It was a cold morning, nothing surprising given the fact it was winter. However, it was a relatively clear day so she waited for the sun to peek over the horizon.
The clouds were already displaying reds, golds, and silvers announcing the imminent rising of the sun. When the rays finally broke above the horizon, they were considerably weaker than at other times of the year, which was also expected.
The sun and its lightly warming rays inspired Elizabeth to break into spontaneous song. On completion, she heard a most unexpected sound—applause.
She stood and whirled around facing the path and there, in all his handsome glory, stood the object of all her confusion. Elizabeth was not sure whether or not to express anger at his interrupting her solitude, so she kept her tongue under control, acknowledging the fact to herself that he had as much right to be here as she.
