2
Elizabeth woke shortly after dawn, slipping from Jane’s room while her sister slept peacefully. The house was silent except for the ticking of the hall clock as she descended the stairs and ventured out into the cool morning air.
Her steps quickened as she approached the stable yard. Anticipation rippled through her when she spotted Gracie already in the paddock. The mare stood with her head high, surveying her domain with queenly confidence.
“You have returned.”
Elizabeth turned to find Mr. Darcy approaching from the direction of the stable, dressed for riding. But this time, there was no surprise in his expression. He looked almost pleased.
“I hope I am not intruding,” Elizabeth said.
“Not at all.” He came to stand beside her. “I confess I wondered if you might come to see Gracie.”
Heat crept into her cheeks. She quickly turned herattention to the horse. “I thought to bring her an apple, but I did not wish to presume.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “Many grooms have attempted to bribe her into cooperation.”
“And failed?”
“Spectacularly. She takes their offerings, then remains stubborn about whatever task they wish her to perform.” Mr. Darcy’s expression shifted, his smile warm, just as she had seen the day prior through Jane’s window. “She is not dangerous, mind you. Only particular about who she allows close.”
Elizabeth’s heart fluttered, like a bird taking flight. She cleared her throat. “You learned to ride very young, I imagine?”
“My father had me atop a pony before I could walk,” Mr. Darcy said, his gaze distant with memory. “He believed a gentleman should be as comfortable in the saddle as in his study. My mother was an accomplished equestrian.”
“Was she?” Elizabeth could not quite keep the wistfulness from her voice.
“Indeed. At Pemberley, when we had no guests, she rode astride.” He paused as if waiting for Elizabeth’s shocked reaction.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Truly?”
“My father encouraged it. There are streams to ford and uneven bridleways to traverse. The hillsides and ravines are steep. Riding astride provides far more stability and control. Georgiana does the same when she is at our estate.” His voice warmed with affection. “Of course, even with a side-saddle, my mother and hergelding could take most hedges and fences. She was fearless.”
“She jumped?” Elizabeth breathed. The very idea sent a thrill through her.
“She did.”
“I confess that I watched you ride yesterday morning. From Jane’s window.” Elizabeth glanced at him, half expecting censure. “You and Gracie looked… Well, I have never seen anything move so fast. Racing across that field must be extraordinary.”
Mr. Darcy’s expression gentled. “It is.”
“I would love to do the same someday,” she admitted. “Though I know one must learn to walk before one can run. Likely it is the same with riding horses.”
“Just the same.” Mr. Darcy seemed to deliberate before reaching a decision. “Would you like to meet her properly?”
“Oh, yes!”
He stepped away from the fence and opened the gate, gesturing for Elizabeth to precede him into the paddock. Gracie’s ears pricked forward as they approached, her dark eyes watchful but not unfriendly.
“Hold your hand flat.” Mr. Darcy retrieved a small apple from his pocket and placed it on Elizabeth’s palm. “Like this. Keep your fingers together so she cannot mistake them for treats.”
Elizabeth removed her glove and extended her hand, hardly daring to breathe. Gracie took a step forward, then another, her nostrils flaring as she caught the scent of the fruit. Then her velvet lips brushed Elizabeth’s palm, tickling as they lifted the apple. The simple pleasure of it filled Elizabeth with joy. She chuckled, then glancedtoward the house. “Forgive me. It would not do for Miss Bingley to realize I am here.”
Mr. Darcy’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “If our hostess knew you were here, she would do everything within her power to join us.” He stroked Gracie’s neck. “Though I believe Gracie would not care for the mistress of Netherfield Park first thing in the morning. As I said, she is particular about her company. I am as well.”
Their eyes met, and Elizabeth experienced that frisson again. Stronger, more insistent.
She looked away, focusing on Gracie’s velvet nose, and tried to credit that the awareness spreading through her meant nothing at all.
