Mrs Lanyon’s cheeks turned pink, and her horse seemed to feel her agitation and tossed its head. “I spoke unkindly. Please forgive me for being rude when you were being amiable. I assumed—I thought you rather like...” Mrs Lanyon’s self-possession appeared shaken. “I am sorry.”
She wondered how the cheerful Mr Balfour, with his easy manners and sanguine nature, could be the brother of such a severe woman. Itwould be a long ten more days if she could not be comfortable with Caroline, if she could not often be with Jane, and if she was always to feel awkward in Mr Darcy’s company,andcould not be on pleasant terms with Mrs Lanyon.
“After you tell me what I said to provoke you so I do not repeat the mistake, we shall say nothing more about it.”
“You said nothing wrong.” Mrs Lanyon’s shoulders fell. “I presumed you were educated the same as your sister... and that you share similar views.”
What similar views?Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Jane and I had no governess, but?—”
“I meant Miss Bingley.”
She drew back. “Oh, I suppose she is my sister, but Jane and I had to shift for ourselves at home with masters now and again.”
The silence stretched out, and it was clear Mrs Lanyon, although wishing to be agreeable, did not know what to say. Elizabeth could part feeling awkward, or she could sustain the conversation and try to put them both at ease. “You leave me with the impression that you are fond of drawing. Do you ever take a likeness?”
“Only when a friend insists.” She looked around her at the wood across from the meadow, and then back towards Pemberley. “I prefer to use my watercolour and pencils out of doors.”
“You can have no want of subject here,” Elizabeth exclaimed, looking around at the verdure herself, smiling. “You could fill your house with a dozen pictures of this stream and meadow alone.”
Mrs Lanyon gave a small laugh, and when Elizabeth looked inquiringly, she said softly, “There are rooms in Hyde House that are rich in specimens of my landscapes and flowers.”
“Your father must be proud of your talents. I would like to see your drawings of Pemberley, should you take any and are inclined to share them,” she added hopefully.
“I do not think they would be worthy enough to be praised.”
“What would Mr Balfour say if I were to ask him about your drawings?”
She smiled and patted her horse’s neck. “Lewis has always saidthey are so good he is going to sell them off because they will fetch a good?—”
Her eyes shifted over Elizabeth’s shoulder, and when she turned, she saw Caroline approach the bank of the stream.
“Eliza, Jane and Louisa have already turned back to the house. We may as well return.” Her voice dropped. “How do you do?”
Mrs Lanyon only nodded.
“You of all people must be careful in the sun, Mrs Lanyon!” Caroline called across the stream. “You can ill afford to grow coarse and brown. Should you join us on a walk, perhaps Miss Bennet shall lend you her parasol.”
Mrs Lanyon only gave her a cold look. Elizabeth said, in an attempt to end their silent glaring, “If my parasol is wanted, she may certainly have it. Mrs Lanyon, would you like?—”
“I must find Mr Darcy before it is too late to ride.”
Mrs Lanyon did not bother to take leave, and her horse trotted off. After they had finally been speaking agreeably, it surprised her that she left abruptly. Elizabeth gave a questioning look to Caroline, who only shrugged before carefully making her way up the bank.
When they were both on the gravel path Caroline said, “Mrs Lanyon’s seeking Mr Darcy out is a certain sign she intends to marry again.”
Elizabeth was now confident Caroline was simply saying the same things to her that she might otherwise have shared with Louisa. “I have seen no sign of admiration between them, and she might still be too attached to her husband’s memory to consider the subject.”
“Captain Lanyon has been dead three years. Widows may think themselves in earnest when they say they shall never marry again, but those declarations are meant as compliments to their dead husbands. Do you not think it nearly scandalous for her to ride after Mr Darcy?” Caroline scoffed. “What does that imply?”
“I would transgress the duty of woman by woman if I made any insinuations against her.”
“I should be loath to disoblige the sisterhood of ladies,” she cried, “but Mrs Lanyon thinks the right of flirtation belongs to her alone, as awidowed woman.” Caroline needed no encouragement to continue this rude subject. “She ought not be open in her pursuit of Mr Darcy.”
“Assuming there is no romantic attachment on either side, there can be no harm in their friendship.”
Caroline raised her eyes. “The most upright man alive is still subject to passions that can mislead reason.”
Elizabeth was not equal to any reply, and they walked in silence to the house. She knew she had not been much in the world, but she knew enough to mark its shades. Still, it was difficult—no,impossible—to imagine Darcy indulging in licentious behaviour. Seducing a widow, his friend’s sister, in his own home? It was more the actions she might expect from Wickham.
