“I am entirely of this opinion.” For the first time, she considered what it might mean to redecorate Longbourn—her beloved home, cheerful and familiar, yet still bearing the marks of five lively girls. It was delightful. The house possessed character, and the gardens were of sufficient breadth to set it handsomely. Yet she was obliged to admit that it was worn and somewhat modest in appearance.
“Have you seen the lake?”
She shook her head; she had not even known of its existence.
“I am certain you will admire it.”
“I love water in all its forms,” she murmured, caught by his animation. When at length they reached the back of the house, she beheld, glittering beneath the midday sun, a mostdelightful stretch of water. From a sudden impulse, she hastened to the bank, curious whether it contained fish.
“There are no fish.” She searched in vain for those argent arrows she had loved to follow in the river near Meryton.
“There were in the past, and we sometimes came to angle together, but Lady Catherine deems it unseemly to engage in such sport so near the house. They finally disappeared, as if not to disturb my aunt.” Though his words bore a touch of irony, his voice remained gentle, as if excusing his aunt’s caprices.
They lingered a while by the water’s edge, watching the breeze ripple the surface.
“The colonel and I often stole out by night to swim,” he said in a low tone, as though revealing a confidence long withheld.
For a few minutes, they remained silent, delighting in the murmur of the wood, the chirp of birds, and the gentle rustling of the water, which sent a shiver through them both.
“I, too, take pleasure in every kind of water—river, lake, or sea. I am glad we have discovered something we both enjoy.”
She turned towards him, prepared to reply, but his countenance, serene and untroubled, bore no trace of pride or hauteur. At last, she said, “Do you believe it is the only thing we have in common?”
He smiled with quiet amusement. However, she had sought to repress it; her tone still betrayed that spirit of combat she had secretly armed herself with for their encounter. Yet she was so lovely in the morning light that he answered calmly, “I referred to this walk—this moment—when we discovered that nature moves us both equally, Miss Bennet…the rest is…to be discovered.”
She did not look at him, seeming rather to fix her attention upon the beauty of the landscape. Her outward composure did not mirror the truth of her feelings. His lastwords left her oddly uneasy. Could he truly wish to know her better? She had no time to ponder it, for he spoke and smiled, “You are invited to dine at Rosings this evening, and I hope you will favour us with your music.”
∞∞∞
When Elizabeth returned to the Parsonage, having taken her leave of Mr Darcy with a gentle wave, she found herself wondering whether she had indeed spent the last hour with the same gentleman who once declared her not handsome enough to tempt him. So altered did he appear. She lingered in quiet gaiety, but it did not endure. From the drawing-room emerged Mr Collins, who exclaimed, in a tone of unrestrained reproof, “Ladies here do not promenade unaccompanied, cousin, as though in search of suitors.”
Thus rudely recalled from the serenity of the morning, she fixed her gaze upon him and replied with measured firmness that she trusted a little modern sense had found its way even to Hunsford—at least beyond the walls of Rosings. Mr Collins stood confounded, uncertain whether she had inadvertently spoken some offence against Lady Catherine. Ere he could collect his thoughts, Elizabeth fled upstairs to her chamber.
Though she had been but two months wed, it seemed that a bond of some strength already subsisted between Charlotte and her husband. Scarcely half an hour had passed since her return from her duties in the parish when Charlotte knocked at Elizabeth’s door.
Of late, Elizabeth had devised a slight diversion for herself—to read in advance upon Charlotte’s countenance the subject of her discourse. On this occasion, it was plain that she had heard of the morning’s walk with Mr Darcy, and thatMr Collins had contrived to convey both his vexation and his unease. Thus, Elizabeth, with an innocent smile such as had marked the walk itself, began the conversation.
“Charlotte, pray do not be alarmed. I encountered Mr Darcy and his cousin purely by chance—”
“But you walked only with Mr Darcy,” rejoined Charlotte, with reproof she scarcely endeavoured to disguise, proving either that rumour travelled swiftly through the neighbourhood, or that Mr Collins’s vigilance over Rosings and its inhabitants was unceasing.
“As I often did at home. There was never any interdiction against taking the air.”
Charlotte sighed, and to Elizabeth’s surprise, she felt a stir of compassion for her friend. “Be easy,” she added gently. “It was a most agreeable conversation on the subject of nature and Rosings’s beauty; and then he extended an invitation to dine, which I am certain did not originate with him.”
Charlotte nodded. “Unfortunately, Lady Catherine is easily displeased, and Mr Collins spares no effort to prevent such occurrences. For this reason, he is sometimes more severe when the matter concerns…Rosings.”
“Mr Collins may rest easy. Mr Darcy and I conversed as old friends and spoke with unceasing admiration of Rosings and its environs.”
“I am glad you are on good terms with Mr Darcy.” Charlotte smiled faintly. “Not, as you might suppose, for Mr Collins’s peace of mind, but because Mr Darcy and his cousin will certainly render your stay here a pleasant one—”
“It is already most agreeable, Charlotte. I require no more to be content than your company.”
Charlotte, thus reassured, returned to her duties, leaving Elizabeth to smile to herself at the gentle falsehood she had uttered. For in truth, Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam hadimparted to her visit what it had hitherto wanted: a measure of unexpected entertainment.
Chapter 3
It appeared that Charlotte too exercised a particular influence over her husband; for, at the hour appointed for their departure to dinner, she found them assembled in the parlour conversing with Maria. At her entrance, they rose, each bearing the same serene expression—a sign that no clouds lingered over the Parsonage, which might have proceeded from Rosings.
