“I yield only to superior reasoning, never to sentiment,” Darcy replied with mock severity, though his eyes held a warmth that belied his tone.
Elizabeth found herself laughing, caught up in the unexpected pleasure of intellectual exchange with a worthy opponent. How long had it been since she had engaged in such conversation? At Longbourn, her father had been her only real partner in literary discussions,and even he had grown increasingly withdrawn in the years before her departure.
It was only as the laughter subsided that Elizabeth realized William was no longer visible.
Panic flooded her veins and she rose to her feet, calling, “William. William, where are you?”
Elizabeth’s heart began to race, her mind immediately conjuring images of steep drops, hidden hazards, her curious son venturing too far from safety.
“He was just here,” Mary said, also standing to survey the surrounding area. “I saw him not two minutes ago.”
“William!” Elizabeth called again, her voice sharper with rising concern.
Darcy was on his feet in an instant, his expression shifting from relaxed to alert. “He cannot have gone far,” he said with calm authority that Elizabeth found surprisingly reassuring. “We shall find him.”
“He may have gone down the path we came up,” Georgiana suggested, already moving toward the woodland trail.
“Or around the other side of the hill,” Mary added, pointing to where the ground sloped more gently toward a meadow.
“We’ll separate,” Darcy decided quickly. “Georgiana, check the path we ascended. Mary, the meadow to the west. Elizabeth and I will circle the hilltop. He’s likely still nearby.”
“William!” Elizabeth screamed, running in circles around a massive oak. Her eyes darted from rock to bush to wooly clumps of grazing sheep.
“He’s always following the sheep dogs,” Elizabeth said, pointing down toward a small flock visible in a lower pasture. Her feet were already taking her down the slope, slipping and sliding. Darcy held her hand as they descended toward the sheep pasture.
What if he had fallen? What if some stranger had—no, she would not allow herself to consider such possibilities. Not yet.
“There!” Darcy’s voice cut through her spiraling fears, his hand touching her arm briefly to direct her attention. “By the stone wall.”
Relief flooded through Elizabeth as she spotted a small figure seated on a fallen log, apparently deep in conversation with a particularly woolly sheep that regarded him with placid curiosity from the other side of the low wall.
“William!” she called, quickening her pace.
The boy looked up at the sound of her voice, his expression brightening. “Mama! Ba-Ba-Ba.”
Elizabeth reached him in moments, kneeling to gather him into a fierce embrace that likely communicated more of her fear than she had intended. “You must not wander off like that,” she said, her voice trembling slightly despite her efforts at composure. “We were worried.”
“Da-see!” William beseeched his intervention. “Ba Ba See. Up!”
“Perhaps, young man, you should inform your mother before embarking on sightseeing missions to neighboring kingdoms.” Darcy reached down and placed William on his shoulders so he could get a better view.
Elizabeth caught her breath, fanning herself, embarrassed by her panic. William was safe. The sheep had proved to be a benign companion.
“Are you well?” Darcy asked quietly, his perceptive gaze noting her unsteadiness.
“Yes,” Elizabeth assured him. “Though I find my knees somewhat less reliable than before.”
Darcy, ever the gentleman, offered Elizabeth his solid arm. They met Georgiana and Mary on the path.
“We should return to the house,” Mary suggested, practical as always. “William has had enough excitement for one day, I think.”
They reached Bellfield as the afternoon light began to soften toward evening. William, drowsy from the day’s adventures, had fallen asleep against Darcy’s shoulder during thefinal portion of their walk.
“I can take him now,” Elizabeth offered as they entered the house.
“Allow me,” Darcy replied quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping child. “He is no burden.”
Something in his tone, in the protective way he cradled William against his chest, caused Elizabeth’s carefully maintained composure to waver. This was how it should have been from the beginning—Darcy holding his son, caring for him, sharing the responsibility of his upbringing.
