He smiled; it was a sight Elizabeth did not believe she had seen during the months he dwelt in Hertfordshire. “Shall we?” he gestured back down the path he had come from, and they walked side by side, Mr. Darcy leading his horse. The awkward silence made Elizabeth nervous, and she scrambled for a topic of conversation to fill it.
“Is the horse yours or one from Rosings’s stables?” she asked after several minutes.
“Ares is mine,” he replied. “My father gave him to me just before he died. The breeder did not wish to keep him as a foal due to the white on his shoulder. It is their loss; Ares is the perfect mount. He is steady, fast, and strong.”
“His coloring is unique. I have never seen a horse that has such a brown coat.” Elizabeth could not help but admire the animal, even though she held no fondness for horses.
“Do you ride, Miss Bennet?”
She shook her head. “Not for enjoyment. Icanride, but I choose not to. My feet can take me wherever I need to go.”
“Yes, you demonstrated that. It is three miles from Longbourn to Netherfield Park, is it not?” She could not tell if his words contained censure or disapproval, but she did not like his tone.
“It is.” Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin in defiance.
“A distance more than three times what most ladies can accomplish.” He stared straight forward, and Elizabeth wished she could see his expression, to better understand what he meant by that. She changed the subject.
“Your cousin seems a most amiable gentleman. Will you both be here long?”
His posture stiffened and his jaw clenched. “We remain as long as it takes to review the estate books,” he said evenly. What had she said to cause the return of the cold, proud Mr. Darcy? “My cousin is on leave from his regiment.” He turned and looked at her, an unfathomable expression on his face. “How long have Sir Andrew and Lady de Bourgh been in residence?”
The change of subject jarred her, but Elizabeth answered the query. “Not more than a sen’night. Their arrival surprised Lady Catherine.”
“My aunt is not pleased with their company. Anne seems happy to see them, however, and so Lady Catherine suffers their presence. Have you dined at Rosings Park often sincetheir arrival?” He stared intently at her as if trying to divine something from her answers, and Elizabeth could not comprehend what he wished to know.
“We have dined once and taken tea twice.” She looked away from him; his pressing stares made her uncomfortable. “Sir Andrew is a dutiful grandson. Lady de Bourgh is bold and domineering. I can see why Lady Catherine does not get on with her.”
“Sir Andrew has long professed he will not marry.” Mr. Darcy’s words held caution, and she glanced at him, perplexed.
“Yes, he intimated as much.”
“It would not do for a lady to expect anything more than an acquaintance from him.” His imploring expression tried to convey something, and Elizabeth did not comprehend. Did he wish her to caution Charlotte? Her friend needed no such intervention; Sir Andrew had disabused her of any expectations without cause.
“I see,” she said, not knowing what else to do. Mr. Darcy visibly relaxed, and the trees broke as the path opened to the wider lane. She turned toward the parsonage, not expecting him to follow. He did, however, and stayed in step beside her.
His next question irked Elizabeth more than all the others. “How long has your sister been in Kent?”
She bristled. The reminder that Mr. Darcy had likely persuaded his friend against Jane, resulting in her loveless marriage, fueled her ire. “Jane has been married since before Christmas,” she said shortly.
“That long?” he seemed surprised, but there was a hint of something else in his tone that she could not decipher.
She nodded, pressing her lips tightly together against the vitriol that wished to spew forth. When she had regained her equanimity, she asked, “Does Mr. Bingley mean to return to Netherfield Park now that winter is ended?”
“I do not know my friend’s intentions, but when we last spoke, he talked of giving up the lease.” He sounded so proud and arrogant, so sure of what he said. It infuriated her.
“If he means to give up the lease, then he had better do it. The neighborhood—and the estate—would benefit from adedicatedandattentivemaster.”
“Bingley is both those descriptors.” Now he sounded defensive. Good.
“Is he? He leases a country estate, resides there less than half a year, and then his entire household decamps from the neighborhood with nary a call to farewell any of his new acquaintances. Meanwhile, the estate is closed up, left empty once again. I do not call that attentive and dedicated, sir.” She pressed her lips together again, for she wished to continue in that vein, detailing Jane’s disappointed hopes. Had her sister not married Mr. Collins, she would have been left open to the derision of their neighbors.
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. “He did not… that is… Business in town kept him there, and then family matters in the north…”
“Hmm.” She made a noncommittal reply, pleased that she could discompose him. The parsonage appeared ahead, and she turned to farewell him. “Goodbye, sir. I do hope you accomplish your tasks at Rosings Park in a timely manner.”Then you might go away again.
“Miss Bennet.” He bowed and turned to mount his horse. She did not watch until he left; instead she pulled open the gate and went inside. Her outerwear she deposited in her chamber and there she stayed until luncheon.
Another letter awaited her on her bed, and she picked it up eagerly. This one was from Lydia.
