As they went back to chasing each other around the bedchamber, Elizabeth’s thoughts were scattered. She still did not exactly like Mr. Darcy, but she no longer saw him as a villain.
Why did letting go of that notion make her feel so unsettled?
Chapter 19
It was early morning in Hyde Park, the time when grooms exercised their masters’ horses, maids took their charges to run and play in the open air, and a few adventurous horse riders were permitted to gallop outside Rotten Row. The park was free from the hum and chatter of members of Society. The air still retained its morning freshness, and Fashionable Society was still asleep.
Not that Darcy could make any particular claim to virtue. He had barely slept at all. He wished he could say he had been occupied with reflections on his mother and father, or Pemberley, or his uncharacteristic rudeness to his aunt, but he was not.
Darcy was occupied with something altogether different and more agreeable. He had lingered over his unexpected interaction with Miss Bennet, dwelling on it until it had become a source of amazement. Miss Bennet, he had decided during his night-time ruminations, was the embodiment of everything he could wish for in a woman. She was unusually pretty, well-read, honest, well-spoken, and kind. If anyone had asked him a few months ago about what characteristics he admired most in a young lady, his list would have been completely different. He would have rattled off a list of conventional accomplishments, from piano playing to needlework. Now Miss Bennet had come into his life and turned all his expectations upside down. He realized now how much he was ruled by social expectations. Miss Bennet had shown him that being genuine was the single most important trait he admired above all else.
He was just about to turn back, when to his surprise, he spotted a familiar figure. Even from this distance, he could recognize Miss Bennet from her quick and lively step. She was very properly accompanied by a maid and a footman who were walking behind her. She kept outpacing them, then falling back as she realized she needed to slow down. His pulse quivered in anticipation as he galloped towards her, seized by an illogical urge to catch her before she left the park.
He forced himself to slow down as he approached, not wanting to startle her. In any case, it gave him time to calm his wayward heartbeat. As he drew close enough to see her clearly, he smiled at the willful bounce of her curls trying to escape from her bonnet, and the way she swung her arms widely, impatient at the sedate pace a young lady was supposed to keep.
“Miss Bennet!” he called out to her.
She turned and smiled at him. The smile was like the warm glow of a fireplace. He basked in it, not wanting it to end.
“Mr. Darcy!”
He busied himself with dismounting and attending to his horse while he regained his composure, then securing the reins in his hand before he joined Miss Bennet on her walk.
“I was already aware that you kept country hours, but I did not expect you to come so early to Hyde Park.”
“I see no reason to sleep until late and lose half the day. We do not attend balls until the early hours of the morning like some of the ladies in Society.”
Was Miss Bennet used to going dancing? Did she attend the local assemblies? Did her aunt take Miss Bennet to many events whenever she came to London? Did she feel restricted by being around Georgiana? For the first time, he considered the possibility that life with Georgiana may be dull for someone like Miss Bennet.
“Would it not be preferable for Georgiana to join you, rather than walking alone? I wish you would convince her to do so.”
“Miss Darcy keeps different hours. She is still a growing child. She needs to sleep more than I do.”
“I have never heard it described that way.”
“It is my experience with my younger sisters. They find it hard to wake up in the mornings. Even my middle sister Mary struggles with it, and she is very disciplined.”
“I see now how you can understand Georgiana so well. I suppose it helps to have younger sisters. Though ultimately it is your skilled powers of observation and deduction that make a difference.”
“Your sister may have been raised differently, but I do believe that, at heart, girls who are growing into young ladies pass through similar stages. My friend Charlotte Lucas has a younger sister, and she is also incapable of waking up before noon.” She paused. “In any case, Miss Darcy has no interest in walking. I might be more likely to succeed if we went riding.”
He stopped in his tracks. “Of course! I am so sorry! I did not think of it. I do not know if I have another horse that is suitable for a lady here in London. I will arrange to acquire one for you immediately. I will go to Tattersall’s.”
“I was not angling for a horse,” she said, with a chuckle. “There is no point in obtaining one when I will only be here a few weeks more.”
Her statement shook him to the core. Is that how she viewed her stay with them? As a temporary thing that would soon be over?
“Hardly afewweeks,” he said. “You are here for three months.”
“Almost a month has passed already,” she said mildly. “So there are eight weeks left.”
Only eight weeks?
“You are keeping time, then? Do you have a calendar where you are marking your days, like a prisoner marking the passage of time on the wall?”
Her eyes filled with mirth. “Have you not heard me rattling the bars at night, hoping to get out?”
He was surprised into a laugh. “You could always leap from the balcony.”
