Elizabeth stoodat the window in Jane’s chambers, her attention drawn to movement on the drive below. Two riders raced hell-for-leather toward the house, their horses flinging divots of earth.
“Lizzy, what do you see?” Jane’s voice came from the bed, still hoarse but stronger than yesterday.
“Riders. Racing toward the house.” Elizabeth leant closer to the glass. “I think—Jane, I believe it is Mr. Darcy’s sister and his cousin.”
The rustle of bedclothes told her Jane was rising. In a breath, her sister joined her at the window, wrapping ashawl around her shoulders. They watched in silence as the riders approached.
The lady rode side-saddle, her dark riding habit flowing behind her, her posture confident and controlled despite the precarious position. She pulled ahead of her companion by a length, then two, her laughter carrying across the distance even through the closed window.
“Oh, she is lovely,” Jane said, her exhalation fogging the glass. They both hurriedly swiped at the condensation, not wanting to miss a moment.
“And an excellent rider,” Elizabeth added, unable to keep the admiration from her voice. “Look at her seat. Riding at that speed must take remarkable skill.”
The gentleman—Colonel Fitzwilliam, she assumed—grinned as he reined in, clearly conceding defeat. Miss Darcy’s face flushed from exertion and victory.
Darcy steppedout into the forecourt as the riders thundered into the courtyard, unable to suppress his smile at the sight of his sister so free of the weight she had carried since Ramsgate. Georgiana reined in first, her face flushed with exertion and joy, her riding habit splattered with mud.
“I won!” she called to Richard, who chuckled as he dismounted.
“You had a two-length advantage at the start,” Richard protested. “Hardly fair.”
“All is fair in racing, Cousin. You taught me that yourself.”
“Georgiana, Richard. At last.”
Georgiana turned in her saddle, her smile widening. “Brother! We made excellent time. Richard said we could not possibly arrive before sunset, but I told him…” She stopped, seeming suddenly aware of her disheveled state. “Oh. I suppose I should have arrived in the carriage.”
“You should have,” Darcy said, though his tone held no censure. “Though I am pleased you did not.” Before Darcy could help Georgiana to dismount, she had already slid to the ground with practiced ease.
Richard grinned broadly. “Your sister, Darcy, has become an absolute menace on horseback. I fear for my dignity.”
“Your dignity has been in question for years.” Darcy embraced his sister and then tucked her arm in his. “Come. Let us get you inside before you become ill. The weather looks to turn.”
“Is she here?” Georgiana asked. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet? The lady you wrote of?”
“She is.”
“And shall I like her?”
Darcy looked lovingly at his sister, hearing the anxiety beneath the question. Georgiana had so few friends and trusted so few people after Wickham’s betrayal. “I have no doubt.”
“Then I am glad we came.” She squeezed his arm. “And Brother? Thank you. For bringing Atlas.”
As they entered the house, Darcy’s first thought was to find Miss Elizabeth, to tell her they had arrived. That Atlas was here, and in the morning—if the rain held off—she could begin.
The anticipation that coursed through him had everything to do with her happiness. And if that realization should have concerned him, he found he could not bring himself to care.
5
The sisters watched until the riders entered the house and the animals were led to the stables.
“She did not seem at all proud,” Jane said. “She seemed rather lively.”
“These first impressions of her are not like the impression her brother gave.” Yet even as Elizabeth said it, she thought of the man in the garden that afternoon, speaking of Atlas and Artemis with such animation. Perhaps Miss Darcy resembled her brother, simply themselves when away from crowds and expectations.
Jane coughed—a wet, rattling sound that snapped Elizabeth’s attention from the window to her sister.
“Back to bed with you,” Elizabeth said firmly, guiding Jane across the room. “Though you are improved, you are not yet well.”
