Asastudentofcharacter, Elizabeth often wondered what prompted others to act as they did. That morning, walking out the day after the assembly, she turned the same reflection on herself. Her contrary feelings towards Mr Darcy vexed her. She had believed him to be a good man, knew it deep within her heart, yet the words she had overheard between him and Mr Bingley left her uncertain. His usual kind demeanour had seemed altered, colder than she remembered, and she could not reconcile the gentleman she once knew with the one whose voice had carried across the assembly room. Anxiety and mistrust usurped reason, and amidst the din of laughter and gaiety, she had felt afraid to be near him.
Foolish woman. Forever finding villains behind every corner,she mocked herself. It was true enough—her capacity to trust without reserve had been materially diminished. She had never trusted her husband; his ability to adapt himself to every company had left her doubting whether sincerity existed in anyone. How many others, perhaps even neighbours she had known for years, might conceal designs as dark as his beneath their amiable features?
The memory stirred an involuntary shudder. Fear of being trapped as she once was made her wary. She liked Mr Darcy; the recollection of their past acquaintance was tinged with warmth. Might that not be enough to quiet her apprehensions? She hoped it would.
It is folly to be frightened of the dead. He can harm me no longer.Nor was Elinor in peril. Still, she recalled the dreadful instructions her husband had written in his last moments regarding their child. Her stomach clenched, and she drew a slow, deliberate breath. They were safe now—both of them.
Elizabeth climbed Oakham Mount, her favourite walk within reach of Longbourn. The little rise lay between her father’s land and Netherfield, affording a pleasant view of both. From the summit she could see the chimneys of Netherfield rising above the trees. The estate belonged to the trust established for her daughter, and Elizabeth took comfort in that certainty. When Elinor married, she would still have a home. Netherfield possessed an adequate dower house—the Wilkenses occupied it at present, keeping the estate in order and raising their young family. They would not remain there forever, but she was pleased to grant them lodgings as part of Wilkens’s compensation, allowing them to save for a house of their own in due time.
Across the fields, a large black horse came into view, galloping with the easy strength of a well-trained hunter. The rider was too distant to be discerned at first. When the horse turned towards Oakham Mount, sunlight glinted on dark hair and a familiar figure came into focus. Mr Darcy. She watched as he reined in his mount, guiding the animal to a steady walk up the slope. When he reached the summit, he dismounted, the horse’s breath rising in soft clouds on the crisp air.
Tethering the animal to a nearby tree, he approached her on foot. “Good day, Mrs Fiennes.” His handsome countenance broke into a smile as heoffered a brief bow. “I did not expect to meet anyone abroad so early. Bingley is still abed—we are to ride out together later in the day.”
“Do the Bingleys keep town hours?” The question slipped out with a trace of humour, for the image suited them perfectly.
He gave a low laugh. “I prefer to rise early, even in town. Given your presence here, I assume you feel much the same.”
“I despised town hours while I resided there,” she admitted, smoothing a stray curl from her forehead. Her hair had grown untidy in the breeze, for she had not troubled herself with a bonnet. The simple gown she wore—with buttons down the front to allow her to dress without assistance—seemed plain beside his polished elegance, and the black wool cloak about her shoulders lent her no improvement.
“Were you and your husband ever to return to his estate?” he enquired, studying her with interest. “The season had ended—surely, he would not have wanted to spend the summer in town.”
Elizabeth shifted slightly, unwilling to dwell on the past. “Youwere in town,” she countered, turning the subject with determination.
A wry glint touched his eye. “Not by choice, I assure you. Business detained me there, which could not be managed from Pemberley.” He adjusted the wrist of a glove. “I returned north with my sister in September for the harvest.”
Elizabeth’s gaze wandered over his features. Gone was the severity she recalled from the night before as he spoke with Bingley when his irritation seemed barely suppressed. He appeared more at ease now—much as he had been during their encounters in Hyde Park. “Will you remain in Hertfordshire long?”
“I am at Bingley’s disposal.” A trace of warmth played about his mouth. “There are no fixed engagements until Christmastide. Georgiana already speaks of joining me, though I hesitate to indulge her wish.”
Elizabeth regarded him steadily, then frowned. “You hesitate?”
He seemed to notice it, for he hastened to explain, inclining his head. “Miss Bingley takes an eager interest in my sister, plying her with false affection and an excess of compliments. It unsettles her. Georgiana is naturally timid and dislikes such overt attention.”
Comprehension dawned, and Elizabeth’s tone softened. “You seek to protect her. That is an honourable sentiment, but you cannot shield her forever. Shy though she may be, she must learn to manage worse than Miss Bingley’s pretensions.” She paused, remembering her own ignorance—how she had never learnt the truths a young girl ought to have known, and how dearly she had paid for it.
She shifted to her other foot and looked up into his face. “My Jane, for example, was ever too reserved, too ready to think well of everyone. For years she chose to see only the good, until experience taught her otherwise. She has since learnt to be more open, and to see the world with clearer eyes.”
Mr Darcy’s thoughtful silence bespoke reflection. “I had not considered it in that light,” he admitted at length.
“Then consider this, sir. Would you prefer your sister to encounter ladies who would use her for their gain within a controlled circle—or when she is wholly cast into the world?”
“The former, undoubtedly, though I would spare her discomfort.”
Elizabeth’s laughter carried lightly on the hilltop breeze. “Discomfort is everywhere, sir. If you relent and allow Miss Darcy to come, I shall be glad to make her acquaintance. She is of an age with my two youngest sisters, if I remember rightly. It would do her good to be amongst girls of her own years, and I am pleased to say both Kitty and Lydia are well behaved and eager for new friends.”
“How many sisters have you? Miss Bennet and Miss Mary I met last night, yet I do not recall if we ever spoke of it in town.”
“I have four. Jane is older by two years, and Mary is a year younger. The youngest two are not yet out, though Kitty is seventeen and impatient to be so. My parents will not allow it until Jane or Mary marries.”
“And yourself?” He spoke with mildness, but something in his look—an intent curiosity she could not read—made her wary once more.
“What of me?” Caught off her guard, her question came more sharply than she intended. Her pulse quickened, and she flushed. She had no wish to discuss matrimony, least of all her own. The notion of marriage, after what she had endured, felt more punishment than prospect.
Mr Darcy’s mouth opened as if to reply, then closed it again, shaking his head. A brief hesitation passed between them. Elizabeth’s fingers unconsciously reached to her spinel necklace, tracing its facets in an old habit of unease. His gaze followed the gesture; a shadow crossed his features, and his posture slackened as though disheartened.
What can that mean?An inward tremor betrayed her agitation, and she caught at the first harmless subject that came to mind. “Tell me of the North, sir,” she urged. “You spoke of Pemberley before, but what of the Peak? I am a great lover of rocks and mountains. Woods and fields alike delight me. My mother despairs of me, you know, for when I cannot be found, it is almost certain that I am rambling across the countryside.”
He seemed content to follow her lead, describing the peaks that rose to the east of his estate. They paced slowly around the summit while his horse grazed nearby. Elizabeth listened with rapt attention.
