Elizabeth hopped onto the block. Jacob laced his fingers together at knee height.
“Place your left foot in my hands,” he said. “When you are ready, spring upward. Mr. Darcy and I will guide you until you are above the saddle, then you will come to rest with your right leg hooked over the upper pommeland your left foot finding the stirrup. Do not worry—we will not let you fall.”
“I will steady you from the other side,” Mr. Darcy added, positioning himself at Atlas’s right shoulder where he could reach across to support her if needed.
Elizabeth took a breath, placed her left foot in Jacob’s linked hands, gripped the pommels with both hands, and pushed off the mounting block. Jacob lifted smoothly, guiding her upward, and she seemed to hang suspended in the air before settling onto the saddle.
Mr. Darcy steadied her as she found her balance. His touch, even through layers of fabric, sent her heart racing.
Seated upon Atlas, sitting higher than she had imagined, the world looked entirely different. The side-saddle position felt precarious. She gripped the front of the saddle as she tried to find her balance in this unfamiliar arrangement. Mr. Darcy’s hand remained at her waist, and Elizabeth was acutely aware of every point of contact between them.
“Breathe,” Mr. Darcy said. “You are safe. I have you.”
I have you.The words wrapped around her like a promise. Even though every instinct told her she would slide off, slowly, Elizabeth loosened her grip. The side-saddle became less foreign. She became aware of Atlas’s strength beneath her, the incredible reality of sitting atop this magnificent creature.
Atlas shifted his weight, drawing a gasp from Elizabeth. “Oh, this is…”
“Everything?” Mr. Darcy’s voice held gentle amusement.
“Yes. Yes, this is everything.”
Miss Darcy moved to stand beside her brother, her eyes bright. “You look wonderful up there, Miss Elizabeth. Like you were meant to ride.”
“She does,” Mr. Darcy agreed, and the warmth in his voice made Elizabeth’s cheeks flush.
“I suppose she will be ready to race Georgie within a week or so.” The colonel grinned.
She sat for several moments, learning the balance required, how to hold her shoulders and her legs against Atlas’s sides. Miss Darcy explained how to distribute her weight evenly.
When she finally dismounted—with considerably less grace than mounting had required—she felt more alive than she had in years.
“That was extraordinary,” she said, turning to stroke Atlas’s neck. “Thank you. All of you. This was…” Her voice broke. “I cannot adequately express what this means to me.”
“There is no need,” Mr. Darcy said. “Your smile says it all.”
They brokefor tea when Hill came to announce that her mother insisted the gentlemen and Miss Darcy join them in the house. Elizabeth tried to protest—surely they could simply have a tray sent to the stables—but Colonel Fitzwilliam smilingly shook his head and said they could not insult their hostess.
Mrs. Bennet presided over the gathering with determined cheer. And through it all, Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy’s lips twitch with suppressed amusement.
Soon, much to the pleasure of Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bingley was announced.
“Mr. Bingley!” Her mother’s voice could have shattered glass. “How delightful! We had thought—that is to say—Jane, my dear, look who has come to call.”
Bingley failed to notice anyone else in the room. His attention fixed immediately on Jane, his face lighting with such pleasure that even their mother could not mistake his attachment.
“Miss Bennet,” he said, moving to her side. “I am pleased you are looking so well. I have been extremely worried—that is, we have all been worried…” He must have realized he was making a spectacle of himself. He turned to include the others. “Darcy, Colonel, Miss Darcy—I did not expect to find you here.”
“Bingley.” Mr. Darcy nodded.
Her mother was not one to overlook an opportunity. “Do join us, Mr. Bingley.” To Mary, she gestured for her to move to another chair so he could sit next to Jane.
“I—yes, thank you.” Bingley took the seat, still unable to look away from Jane.
When asked, Bingley mentioned, with obvious discomfort, that his sister Caroline had departed to stay with their aunt in the North. “Louisa is serving as my hostess now,” he said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I thought it best, given—that is to say—Caroline’s behavior was inexcusable, and I will not have anyone under my roof who treats my guests with such disrespect.”
Elizabeth’s esteem for him grew. It could not have been easy to banish his own sister.
“You have made the right decision,” Mr. Darcy said. “Though I am sorry you were put in such a position.”
