“You should not blame yourself. I only happened upon it by luck. I was scouring the library this morning before I went on my little adventure. Mr Campbell was not teasing when he said he would make this riddle more difficult,” he smiled. “I apologisefor appearing in such a wild manner, without proper English dress, but I was dreadfully cold in my wet things.”
“I see,” Elizabeth replied. If Mr Darcy only knew how very little she minded his unconventional attire!
She silently reprimanded herself for her untoward thoughts. “I will leave you to change, then,” Elizabeth said in a bright attempt at normality. She walked away as hurriedly as though she could leave her disastrous thoughts behind her, hardly even returning Mr Darcy’s parting bow.
She would put him out of her thoughts — she must. With an effort, Elizabeth grasped for something engaging enough to keep her focus. For better or worse, the choice was obvious, for the state of the contest for the house and lands could not help but be a topic of great engagement, and great worry. It was tied now. Anyone could win, with the fate of Strathalt House and the Bennet sisters hanging in the balance.
Even the thought of winning could not be an unalloyed pleasure. If not for her growing fondness for the Darcys, Elizabeth would have enjoyed cheering her father on. But as it stood, she felt herself torn. Miss Darcy had become a fast friend. And her feelings for Mr Darcy, confusing as they were, were also growing.
She let out a breath of frustration, looking over her shoulder as she came to a small copse of trees to ensure that no one else was near. Once satisfied she was well and truly alone, she sat down on a large boulder near the loch and crossed her arms over her chest. Mr Darcy was just a friend, was he not? Surely she had not let her heart get so out of hand as to believe he might actually feel something more for her than friendship?
She worried her lower lip, looking out over the water and wishing her life had not become so complicated.
Elizabeth hardly knew how long she sat there, unmoving, her thoughts moving in loops. At last, Mr Bennet found her. He greeted his daughter cheerfully and sat down on the boulder beside her.
“Well then, my dear Lizzy,” he began cheerfully, before coming to a sudden halt. He spoke again, taking a rather different tone. “Lizzy, what is wrong? I can see from your face that something is troubling you.”
Elizabeth had never imagined beinggladthat Mr Darcy had solved the second riddle, but she found herself in precisely that ridiculous position. To tell her father all her real thoughts was obviously impossible, but one part must be shared with him.
“It is the second riddle,” she therefore said with a sigh. “Mr Darcy has solved it. If you do not mind, Father, I will allow him to tell you the rest, for I have no heart to myself.”
“Very well, Lizzy, very well,” Mr Bennet said gently. “You need not distress yourself. Nothing shall be lost from waiting to satisfy my curiosity.”
“Thank you, Father,” Elizabeth replied.
“You must not lose hope, you know. We are tied now. Perhaps I may yet solve the final riddle before Mr Darcy can. We must hope so.”
“I believe in you, Papa,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps you will solve this next riddle as quickly as you did the first.”
“Perhaps, my dear, perhaps,” Mr Bennet said with a chuckle. “In any case, allow me to lift your spirits. I have a letterfor you that has just arrived from home,” he said. He handed her the letter, its seal still unbroken.
Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief. “From Jane, I will bet,” she said. But when she turned the missive over to look at the address, it was in Lydia’s messy handwriting, not Jane’s elegant hand. She tried not to let her disappointment show.
“I shall leave you to read it alone, if you wish?” her father suggested.
“Nonsense. The contents will be for you as well, I wager.” Elizabeth broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter.
“It will only concern me if your sister is in need of money for her little trinkets,” he said wryly.
She wanted to argue with him, but he was right. He had little affection for his younger daughters, though he did love them, in his quiet way. They were indeed difficult to handle at times and had little in common with their sire. Of course, if he had made more of an effort to discipline them — to steer Lydia and Kitty in the right direction — he might have found they were more attuned to his character.
Elizabeth let the matter lie, however, and read the letter aloud.
∞∞∞
Dear Lizzy,
How is Scotland? I must confess, I was annoyed when you were asked to go and not me. I have never been anywhere yet. But I will not hold that against you, since we have had themost wonderful time since you and Papa went away. You will never guess what a stroke of good luck has befallen us…
The militia has come to Meryton!
Many of them were in attendance at last night’s assembly, and they are ever such good dancers. At least, most of them are. Those who are not as good at dancing have the good sense to be charming, which almost makes up for it. There is a certain Mr W —
∞∞∞
Her father held up his hand and stood. “I have heard quite enough. It is too much to expect of a poor old father to expect him to listen to drivel about which men his foolish daughter finds most charming. I will leave you to wade through the dull details, Lizzy.” He plodded away, his hands clasped behind his back as he hummed to himself and studied the leaves of the trees.
Elizabeth sighed and went on reading in silence.
