“Yes, well…” Her gaze drifted to Jane, and she narrowed her eyes, lips pursed in displeasure.
Jane shifted in her seat, her discomfort evident. Even she understood the meaning behind Mrs. Hurst’s glare. The lady did not approve of her brother’s attentions to a country nobody, nor would she welcome the idea of a proposal. She had come to breakfast for precisely this reason—to interrupt the growing intimacy between the enamored pair.
Elizabeth looked at Jane and gave a very subtle roll of her eyes. Mrs. Hurst would have very little success if she meant to separate the lovers.Does she truly believe her influence over her brother so great as to accomplish it?Elizabeth doubted it very much. Mr. Bingley did not appear in the least concerned by his sister’s opinion.
“Will there be any sport today?” Mr. Hurst asked, breaking the tension between the brother and sister.
“I had no such plans,” Mr. Bingley replied. “I believe I shall be perfectly content to remain indoors, where it is warm. Perhaps we might enjoy a cup of chocolate later.”
“Charles, you ought to go shooting! It is a fine activity for gentlemen. Take Mr. Darcy with you. If you are successful, we might have your birds for dinner.”
Mr. Bingley shook his head. “I think not, Louisa. If Hurst wishes to go shooting, he may inform the stables. They will ready the dogs and prepare a mount for him.”
“Blasted bore you are turning out to be, Bingley.” Hurst deposited a heaping plate upon the table and sank heavily into his chair. “What is the point of having an estate if you do not take advantage of the sport?”
“We have guests, brother.” Mr. Bingley said stiffly, his growing impatience betrayed by the tight grip on his utensils.
Ever the peacemaker, Jane rose. “I believe I shall rest for an hour or so,” she said with calm grace. “Thank you for the pleasant breakfast.” She left the room without a backward glance.
Elizabeth smothered a smile as Mr. Bingley shot his sister a poisonous look. Mrs. Hurst, goal achieved, did not respond—she merely stabbed delicately at a piece of fruit with her fork.
“Will you walk this morning, Miss Elizabeth?”
Mr. Darcy’s address startled her, and she jumped. “I had not considered it, but with Jane resting, I believe I shall.”
“Pray, allow me to accompany you.” Together they rose and left the room, leaving the squabbling brother and sister behind.
They retrieved their outerwear quickly and once more exited the house through the side door. In silence, they followed the main path until they had drawn some distance from the house.
Elizabeth turned to face him. “Forgive me for last night, sir,” she said hastily. “I had not meant to intrude upon your privacy.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” he murmured, his gaze softening as it rested upon her. “You were restless and sought reading material. It is only natural for a devoted reader such as yourself to do so when sleep proves elusive.”
“My mother has always encouraged me to stay abed. ‘Your body is resting, even if your mind is not,’ she often says. But I cannot lie upon my pillows and do nothing when my thoughts are awhirl. I am not one to sit idle during the day, and I cannot do so at night either.”
“Your mother’s advice may suit some,” Darcy replied. “Reading often settles my mind and prepares me for rest. Still, last night, sleep was more elusive than usual.”
Elizabeth nodded in sympathy. “May I ask, though I hope it is not too forward, what kept you wakeful?”
A flicker of unease crossed his countenance before it vanished. “My sister,” he said at last. “She endured an ordeal this summer. Someone she cared for abused her trust most cruelly. Georgiana has not been the same since. My aunt thought it best to send me away, in hopes that my sister would recover her spirits more swiftly in my absence.”
“I would think her most beloved brother’s presence would comfort her during such a difficult time.” Elizabeth could not be parted from those she loved whilst enduring pain.
“She fears she has disappointed me with her actions,” he said softly. “I have assured her that such a thing is not possible, but she does not believe me.”
“I am sorry to hear it.” Elizabeth moved to a bench and sat, gratified when Mr. Darcy took the place beside her. “We have discussed this trying age. My youngest sister is nearly of an age with yours. She, too, struggles against the norms of life.”
“When does it end?” he asked, with something close to desperation.
Chuckling, she patted his arm. “I am afraid your sister will become something of a mix of who she was and who she is now. You will have to learn to know her all over again.”
“That does not sound pleasant at all.” He pouted, his brow furrowing and his lower lip pushing forward ever so slightly. Elizabeth could picture him as a child with that very expression. She would wager his mother granted him his every desire when he looked so.
“I am pleased that your sister has recovered.”
Elizabeth welcomed the change of subject. “Jane has always enjoyed robust health. I do wonder if the fish served the night that she fell ill had been too long out of the water. I have heard one might die from eating improperly aged aquatic vertebrates.”
Mr. Darcy raised a brow, a flicker of admiration tugging at the corner of his mouth.At least he appears amused.As Mr. Bennet would say, only Elizabeth Bennet would describe spoiled fish in such a manner—and make it sound perfectly natural. “It has been known to happen. I am glad that your sister came through her ordeal with no lasting harm.” He paused, then glanced down at her. “It will not be long, I think, before she is no longer Miss Bennet.”
