Darcy did his best not to let his anger and annoyance show. “When the time is right, Mrs Hurst, there shall be a mistress of Pemberley.”
Though he told himself he must not, Darcy glanced quickly in Elizabeth’s direction. The conversation had not been lost on her, he realised. In the fleeting moment he looked at her, their eyes met and held.
They both looked away. Darcy only wished he could see her expression. Her consciousness of him seemed to match his own of her. Surely it must mean something that they were both growing so aware of each other, that they so naturally entered into each other’s concerns.
How could he be expected to hold back if she truly felt as much as he did?
Mrs Hurst cleared her throat before attempting to engage in the topic again. “It is such a large house. You will need a woman with experience in such matters. My sister would know, would you not, Caroline? She has helped run my parents’ London houses for our brother since their passing. And she has also helped with Netherfield, I believe.”
“I am aware of the fact,” Darcy said briefly, wishing she would give up her futile scheming. Would that she would go back to discussing family matters and children with Mrs Gardiner andMrs Annesley rather than trying to be a matchmaker. He glanced at Georgiana, silently begging her to intervene.
Thankfully, she understood straight away. “Shall we all go for a walk? The woods are so lovely this time of year!”
Everyone rose, though Miss Bingley struggled to do so. Her brother and Mr Hurst had to help her straighten, as her ensemble would not allow her to bend in order to stand. Darcy looked away, not wishing to embarrass her further. Surely Miss Bingley would wish her folly to be given as little attention as possible.
Elizabeth, who had been among the first to spring up at Georgiana’s suggestion, was already at her side. “This was such a wonderful idea, Miss Darcy. I am glad you thought of it.”
“Are you really having a good time?” Georgiana asked.
“Yes, of course. It is difficult not to have a good time, no matter where I am at Pemberley.” Elizabeth looked over and smiled in greeting as he joined them.
“I am glad to hear you say it, Miss Bennet.” Though Darcy longed to say more, he forbore. Anything else he might say would be too much. He could not tell her that Pemberley had become lovelier than ever, now that she was among its beauties. Certainly he could not tell her that he had begun to see the beauty in everything, as long as she was with him.
Perhaps that was what his mother had meant when she had told him as a boy that he would know when he fell in love, when he found the woman he was to marry. He had had difficulty with her answer for so long. “But how, Mother?” he had asked her. “How will I know?”
She had only smiled at him and given an answer that left him more puzzled than ever. “I do not know how to explain it, son. All I can say is that when you know, you just know.”
He never had a chance to inquire further. Darcy had only been twelve, and she had passed away giving birth to Georgiana shortly afterward. He had never asked his father what his mother might have meant. The love between Darcy’s parents, which his mother had considered highly romantic, his father would have described as the result of duty and mutual respect. He had fallen in love with his wife because he had married her, rather than the reverse, and it would never have occurred to him that his son might wish anything else.
In his woolgathering, Darcy had fallen a little behind the others. He was at the point of increasing his pace to return to them when he heard a cry of distress from the woods beside the path.
“Oh, Mr Darcy! Please do help me. I have hurt my ankle.”
The voice was undoubtedly Caroline Bingley’s. Darcy looked around, thinking to call Bingley to go with him, or better yet, to go himself. He did not much like the idea of playing knight in shining armour to Miss Bingley’s damsel in distress. Quite aside from his own distaste, surely it would be unkind to encourage her fantasies when they had not the least chance of coming true.
But Bingley was at the very front of the group, and almost out of sight. Nor was Mr Hurst anywhere to be seen. Likely, the man had taken the first opportunity of seeing a bench along the path to sit down.
How had Miss Bingley come to leave the main path, in any case? It was hardly difficult to follow. But it did not matter.He could not leave a guest in distress, and must therefore go to her.
“Miss Bingley?” he called as he stepped into the woods. “Where are you?”
“Here I am!”
Oddly, she was only a few paces away. Darcy was at a loss for why she had not simply walked back onto the main path. But she had said her ankle was injured, which must account for it.
Miss Bingley was a pitiable sight. Her hat had fallen askew, and she was bent over, gingerly touching her ankle. “I do not know what I stepped on, but I seem to have twisted my ankle. Will you be so good as to lend me the use of your arm?”
“Of course,” Darcy replied, concealing an ungentlemanly reluctance. He could not very well leave her there to struggle alone. Though feeling a strange unease, he held out his arm to her.
Miss Bingley took it eagerly. She must have been very frightened, Darcy thought, for she really almost snatched at it. “You are too kind, Mr Darcy,” she said sweetly.
“Not at all. Let us return to the main path, and then I will call for the physician.”
“Oh, no, I do not want to impose. If you will only help me walk, I am sure it will get better.” She walked slowly, her limp pronounced. But now that he was with her, she did not seem to be in pain. Miss Bingley smiled brightly up at him.
Darcy frowned. Her mood seemed oddly sunny for someone who had so lately been injured and frightened, but perhaps she was only putting on a brave face. “Do not force yourself to speak if you do not wish it, Miss Bingley. I know howpainful a sprain can be. I shall not take it amiss if you prefer to remain silent.”
“Not at all, Mr Darcy,” she reassured him. “No, I shall do better to distract myself and think of something pleasant. For example, I love Pemberley in the summer. It is so enchanting.”
