He offered a smile. “I have been trying to convince Georgiana otherwise since she was small, to no avail. Animals are not like people, Miss Elizabeth. It is easy to ascribe human qualities to them—love, loyalty, affection. In truth, they are simpler creatures than that.”
“You do not think Gracie loves you?” asked Elizabeth, oddly disappointed by this pragmatism.
“Gracie knows that every time I ride her, she will be brushed afterwards, fed, and rested in her comfortable, clean box. She knows I will not misuse her or demand more than she can give. Is that love? Or is it simply trust built on consistent treatment?”
Elizabeth considered this. “Does the distinction matter?”
“To my sister, no. To me…” He seemed to choose his words carefully. “I prefer not to mistake a horse’s nature for something it is not. Gracie does not lie awake at night pining for my company. She does not love me. But she trusts me, and that is worth far more.”
Although she believed he must be correct, Elizabeth understood his sister’s point of view better. “How do you earn that trust?”
“Consistency. Understanding.” Mr. Darcy’s voice took on a new quality, as though he were already preparing to instruct her. “Gracie dislikes the activity of the stable. The noise, the other horses, the grooms moving about. It creates tension in her. I can sense it the moment I mount, how her muscles flex, and her attention scatters.”
“What do you do?”
“I allow her to transition from distress to calm as we move away from the stables. To leave the turmoil behind until it is just the two of us. Only then does the pressure release. I can feel her muscles relax beneath me, the exact moment she settles.” His hands moved slightly as he spoke, as though the mare were beneath him even now. “Only then do we run. To demand speed when she is tense would be to fight her nature. To wait, to allow her to find her calm first—that is partnership.”
Awareness stirred inside Elizabeth—one that had little to do with horses and everything to do with the man beside her. The care in his voice, the attention to what the horse needed rather than what he wanted—it painted a picture entirely at odds with the proud, dismissive gentleman she thought she knew.
“Although I have read every book I could find about horses, I know so little about riding,” she said. “But I am eager to learn.”
Mr. Darcy’s features warmed. “Then you shall. Atlas is the perfect teacher. And I”—he hesitated, then met hereyes—“I shall do my best to explain what he cannot tell you himself.”
“Thank you, sir. Truly.”
He inclined his head, and they walked on, while Elizabeth tried to hush the voice in her mind that hinted that she no longer thought only of horses.
Darcy stoodat the drawing room window, his tea growing cold in his hand as he stared out onto the drive.
He should be anticipating Richard and Georgiana’s arrival. Instead, his thoughts returned to the garden that afternoon, to Miss Elizabeth walking beside him, listening with such genuine interest as he spoke of horses and childhood races. He had wasted the opportunity. She had been a willing, engaged listener, and he had been so lost in the pleasure of her company that he had failed to address what mattered most: the insult he had delivered at the assembly.
Tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me.The words haunted him now. He should have apologized. Should have acknowledged his cruelty instead of pretending it had never happened. Instead, he had talked about horses for half an hour like a man with no better sense.
What kind of gentleman offered a woman riding lessons while leaving such a slight unaddressed between them?A fool—that kind of gentleman.
Darcy’s grip threatened his teacup. Setting it aside, he knew what he must do. He would apologize before thelessons begin. Before this went any further. He owed her that much.
But would she accept it?
At any moment, the carriage should appear. Richard’s note had promised arrival by late afternoon since they would take the journey in slow stages for Atlas’s sake. The sun was already sinking toward the horizon. Ominous clouds gathered. Early November in Hertfordshire meant rain, often for days at a stretch. If the weather turned foul, Miss Elizabeth’s lessons would have to wait. The thought brought an unforeseen stab of disappointment—not his own, but hers. He could too easily imagine her face if the weather turned, hope dimming to resignation.
“I trust Miss Bennet continues to improve,” Bingley said from his position near the fire. “Though not too quickly, of course. That is—I mean to say—she should be well enough to join us, naturally, but perhaps not so well that she must return to Longbourn immediately. Does that sound terribly selfish?”
“Terribly,” Mrs. Hurst said without looking up from her needlework.
“You are ridiculous, Charles,” Miss Bingley added, her tone sharp. “Miss Bennet will leave when it suits her, regardless of your wishes. I am far more interested in Miss Darcy’s arrival. Such an accomplished young lady! Her proficiency on the pianoforte is spoken of in the best circles. And her watercolors—I have heard they rival those of the masters.”
Darcy suppressed a sigh. Georgiana’s skills were considerable, yet Miss Bingley’s fawning always felt less like genuine praise and more obsequious, as if to draw favorable comparisons to her own abilities.
“She is also remarkably well-read,” Miss Bingley continued. “Fluent in French and Italian, I understand. And so elegant, so refined. The product of the finest masters, of course. Not at all like these country?—”
“Miss Darcy is a young lady still coming into her own,” Darcy said, his voice cool. “I would ask that you not place undue expectations upon her.”
Miss Bingley’s smile faltered. “Of course, Mr. Darcy. I meant only to express my admiration.”
Darcy returned his attention to the window, effectively ending the conversation. Miss Bingley’s voice continued behind him, discussing the superiority of London masters to country instruction, but he stopped listening.
Instead, his thoughts drifted to Miss Elizabeth. Would she be watching for the arrival as well? He gripped his hands together.
