“I wanted to see,” Jane protested, though she welcomed her sister’s assistance in propping her body against the pillows.
“And you did. Now rest.”
Once Jane was comfortable, Elizabeth returned to the window. Miss Darcy had been riding a gray Thoroughbred—beautiful, sleek, young, which meant that the horse could not be Atlas. Elizabeth pressed closer to the glass, scanning the drive.
In the distance came the slower procession: a carriage, and beside it, a groom mounted on one horse while leading another.
A bay.
Even from this distance, Elizabeth could make out the rich reddish-brown coat and black points Mr. Darcy had described. The horse moved with a steady, ground-covering walk. Despite his age, he carried himself with dignity, neck arched and steps deliberate.
Elizabeth’s heart skipped.
The groom and horses drew closer, and she could see more detail. He was tall—taller than she had imagined—with a handsomeness born not of youth or speed but of character and presence.
Her hand pressed against the glass, her heart doing that peculiar flutter she associated with riding.
“Oh, you are magnificent.”
Atlas reached the courtyard below and stood still, his ears pricked forward with interest, taking in his new surroundings with what looked like curiosity rather than nervousness. Even standing still, he was beautiful.
Elizabeth pressed her forehead against the cool glass and imagined the movement of that horse beneath her. If she could manage not to make a complete fool of herself, she would ride.
A young lad led Atlas toward the stables, and Elizabethrealized that some dreams, no matter how long deferred, could still come true.
Darcy stoodnear the fireplace in the drawing room, poised to see when Elizabeth walked under the lintel. After changing from her mud-spattered habit, Georgiana sat on the sofa beside Miss Bingley, her posture perfect, her hands folded neatly in her lap—every inch the demure young lady their aunt, Lady Matlock, had trained her to be. A marked contrast to the happy girl who had raced Richard up the drive.
Richard lounged in a chair near the window, perfectly at ease despite Miss Bingley’s constant chatter about his regiment, his postings, and his prospects. His cousin deflected each inquiry with practiced charm, never quite answering while appearing to be entirely forthcoming.
To Georgiana, Miss Bingley said, “Miss Darcy, you must be fatigued from your journey. Such a great distance from Town, and in this weather! I do hope the roads were not too dreadful.”
“Not at all. The weather held, and my cousin is an excellent traveling companion.”
“So brave of you to ride the distance rather than within the carriage.” Miss Bingley’s tone suggested the behavior was not gallant at all. “Though I suppose country riding differs greatly from the more refined exercise one takes in Town.”
Darcy’s jaw set, but before he could respond, Richard spoke cheerfully. “My cousin rides like a cavalryman,Miss Bingley. Put her on her horse, and she will outpace half of my regiment.”
“How…impressive,” Miss Bingley managed, clearly uncertain about his comment.
Bingley, who had been hovering near the door in apparent anticipation of Miss Bennet’s arrival, finally surrendered to disappointment. “I believe I shall check on Miss Bennet myself. Ensure she has everything she requires.”
“Charles, do not be ridiculous,” Miss Bingley said sharply. “It would be entirely inappropriate for you to visit a young lady in her bedchamber.”
“Caroline is right, you know,” Mrs. Hurst added.
“I did not say her bedchamber, Caroline. I meant to inquire of the housekeeper?—”
“Mrs. Nicholls will inform us if anything is needed.” Miss Bingley rose, clearly intending to prevent her brother from embarrassing himself further. “Come, Louisa. We will speak to Mrs. Nicholls and check on the arrangements for dinner.”
Mrs. Hurst rose without complaint.
Mr. Hurst, who had been dozing in his chair, startled awake. “Dinner? Should we go in?”
“Not yet,” his wife said. “Come, you have a spot on your cravat. You shall need to refresh yourself before we dine.”
Miss Bingley paused at the door. “Mr. Darcy, perhaps you and your family would care to rest before dinner? I am certain you would appreciate some privacy after your journey, Miss Darcy.”
“We are quite comfortable here, thank you,” Darcy said evenly.
