As they stared, he chuckled. “I understand the confusion. Most stablemasters are on the wrong side of forty. Well, Miss Taylor, I am thinking of one who is but five-and-twenty. Surely that is not too old for you.”
Ellen gasped and shook her head. “How is such a thing even possible?”
Darcy met her gaze. “I know a man named Robert Breton—an apropos name. His father was my father’s stablemaster. He grew up riding beside me and the steward’s son. We grew into men as boys are wont to do, and he became one of the best men I know, while the steward’s son became one of the worst—but that is neither here nor there.”
Jane gasped, and Darcy turned to her. “Yet another thing I must acquaint you with. You know of whom I speak?”
“I can surmise.”
“Shall we defer that discussion? Presuming you are still speaking to me in an hour.”
Jane quite surprised herself by laughing gaily. “Oh, I assure you we will. When I tell Lizzy that Mr Darcy is more entertaining than the best play, she will… well… I have no idea what she will do—swoon, most likely.”
She studied Mr Darcy’s countenance when she mentioned Lizzy’s name; something of interest lay there, something worth pursuing. However, they were becoming scattered, so she replied, “In a moment, Mr Darcy. You should probably finish one conversation before you begin another.”
“Thank you. I shall endeavour to do so. My apologies, Miss Taylor.”
She giggled. “No need. You lot ain’t the only ones as’ can be entertained.”
She ruined the effect by blushing and staring at the ground, but Darcy was having none of that, so he broke protocol by lifting her chin gently with his knuckle. “None of that, Miss Taylor. We are friends, no?”
Her eyes widened. “Friends?”
Darcy nodded. “I very much hope so. Unless I am sorely mistaken, you are one of the four horsewomen.”
Both ladies shook their heads, and Jane asked, “You seem to be off on yet another tangent. It might have been faster to walk the ten miles.”
She had said it with a smile, so Darcy returned the brightest smile yet; Jane thought he might have sent Lizzy into an apoplexy had he ever directed such a look at her.
“I imagine I should explain that?”
“That would be best.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, cousin. I would very much like to hear you make sense of that.”
Anne de Bourgh’s sudden appearance startled everyone; they jumped and turned towards the newcomer. They all stared at one another, though the most intent looks were reserved for Anne and Jane. Jane looked surprised, while Anne appeared nervous, frightened, and guilty.
The impasse resolved after a few moments when Jane let out a cry sufficient for a charging army.
“Annie!Where did you come from?”
Much to the surprise and pleasure of all, Jane stepped the five paces separating her from Anne in a trice and wrapped her in a hug that would kill a bear.
Darcy Coach
“Jane, I love that nickname. Say you will use it forever. I never had a nickname before.”
“Of course, Annie. Lizzy sometimes calls me Janie.”
The friends seemed reunited as if nothing had happened, though quite a lot had. Mr Darcy’s assertion that Anne de Bourgh—despite titled relations, an enormous estate, and fabulous wealth—possessed not a single real friend save her two male lunkheaded cousins, was the saddest thing Jane had ever heard. She was not naïve enough to believe it was really the saddest thing in the world, but she considered it her right and privilege to grieve for anything she chose; and Anne’s lack of friends was important.
Jane’s honest reaction to the woman who was, in fact, her own first true friend, summoned the spirit of Grandmother Gardiner, standing right behind Anne, smiling in approval.
When someone feels low, it matters not if they are ‘entitled’ to their feelings… not truly. Remember this, my girl.Feelings are Facts. What people feel drives what they do, and it can be as real to them as pain. If someone isfeeling poorly, and you can comfort them at little cost to yourself, then it is your right and privilege to do so.
She remembered the conversation from a day she came in grumbling that Annabelle Golding was whining and crying over some trifling thing Marybeth Long said. Jane hardly noticed the offence but definitely noticed the reaction. She felt it had ruined their afternoon of play, and she complained bitterly to her grandmother.
