Frances blew her nose. “Kitty is to go to school. Your father says you three girls have used your time well, improving yourselves, but Kitty has not. She is to remain in school for a year to better herself. He fears no man will take her as she is.”
Mrs. Bennet sniffed. “I must agree with him. Kitty is no beauty, she plays no instrument, has no conversation, and has nothing to offer a man. Your father is right to send her away. I commend him for his forethought. But I do miss my dear Lydia.”
Elizabeth said, “I missed my walk this morning. May I walk to Oakham Mount?”
Frances waved her away. “Run along. I prefer not to have you underfoot.”
Jane and Mary exchanged a look of concern, but Elizabeth smiled and winked. She was amused. She slipped away in her walking boots before her mother could change her mind. Once past the hermitage, she began to run.
Oh, to be free again, without fear of her cousin following. What a dreadful thing it had been to feel trapped in her own home. She ran all the way up the hill and stood beneath the oak trees, breathing in the cool air. The sky was bright blue, and the fields below stretched green and open.
“Miss Elizabeth, you look well this morning.”
She started and turned to find Mr. Darcy. “Sir, I did not see you.” She glanced around but saw no horse. “Did you walk here, Mr. Darcy?”
“No, ma’am. Ares is hobbled in the meadow yonder. He had a mind to graze.”
“I see. I will leave you, sir. I do not wish to disturb your privacy.” She turned to walk away.
“Miss Elizabeth, please. You need not go on my account. There is room enough for us both to enjoy the morning.”
She hesitated, surprised that he was neither proud nor reticent. As if reading her mind, he continued, “Miss Bennet, I wish to apologize for insulting you at the assembly.”
Her lips pressed together, her eyes narrowed. He waited, but she said nothing.
“I see that you are still angry,” he said quietly.
She remained silent, frowning now.
“Perhaps an apology is too little too late, but I am glad we happened upon each other. I behaved badly, and I wish to make amends.”
Elizabeth huffed. “Mr. Darcy, short of standing in the pulpit at church and making me a public apology, I cannot imaginewhat amends you could make. You humiliated me, declaring my lack of beauty in the public eye. It would only seem fitting to apologize in the same manner, though I would expect far more groveling before my injured feelings would be soothed.”
Her voice caught; she flicked away a tear. “You realize Miss Bingley is ecstatic over my humiliation. She made certain to remind me of it when she spoke to me in the churchyard and then again when she came for tea on Sunday afternoon. I am quite certain I will hear of it every time we meet.”
Another tear escaped. Her anger burned bright.
His jaw clenched.
She goaded him. “So this is not going as you thought, sir? Be grateful you are not being abased before all your neighbors as I was.” She straightened. “Excuse me. I will leave you now. I am too angry to mind my tongue.”
She turned and walked away.
Darcy stood rooted. He had never apologized to anyone in his life, not even his father or Richard. How dare this country girl throw his apology back in his face? He moved to the edge of the path.
Below, he saw her running down the hill, bonnet dangling by its ribbons, her hair loose and curling against her shoulders. She was an unaffected woman who spoke her mind. It was refreshing to meet someone who did not try to ingratiate themselves.
He stood there long after she was gone. At length, he turned toward the meadow to fetch his horse. He was expected at Netherfield for a late breakfast, where he would endure Miss Bingley’s attentions. His only respite from her was his morning ride, and this afternoon’s visit to Longbourn would offer furthersanctuary. He pursed his lips. Perhaps, under the circumstances, he ought to forgo the visit to Longbourn. He shuddered. Absolutely not. Miss Bingley would believe he had stayed behind on her account, and she would hover over him with assiduous care for his every supposed need.
He considered Bingley’s attachment to Jane. His friend ought not to ally himself with the Bennets for the same reasons Darcy himself would never contemplate such a connection. The estate was insignificant, the family barely genteel and of low social standing. The mother was vulgar, the heir a rake, and there were five daughters who would prove a burden either to him or to whatever fool might marry one of them, for none were likely to wed, having no dowry. And the youngest, if Caroline spoke truth, was already on the brink of ruin, though with Caroline, one could never be certain. He stopped to consider further. The heir would take Elizabeth for wife. His actions at the assembly made his intentions perfectly clear.
This random thought caused his heart to thud, and his hands to clench into fists. Why should it matter to him if Miss Elizabeth married her father’s heir? It would be a perfect resolution to the entail. Yet the thought angered him.
He kicked at a stone and walked toward Ares. He did not understand his own mind.
Chapter 7: Courting
Darcy stood behind his friend while Bingley rapped the door knocker. His heart was beating against his chest as though he had run a mile, and he did not understand why. He felt breathless, as if he had just finished a bout at Jackson’s. Was he unwell? He heard the Bingley carriage roll up the drive. Caroline had insisted on making the call, and Bingley had insisted the Hursts accompany her to help keep her in line. Darcy knew nothing would restrain her. She had taken a dislike to Miss Elizabeth, and nothing short of a miracle would keep her from speaking her mind. His eyes narrowed as he considered Miss Bingley. She had never before behaved with such open hostility. Jealousy had only sharpened her tongue. But why was she jealous? She was as beautiful as Miss Elizabeth, though in a different style. It was beyond him to comprehend.
