She glanced at him. “Then I assume you prefer the former?”
“Not always.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “I enjoy a good Scottish air. There is something about the wild, untamed quality of the melodies that I find captivating.”
What an unexpected coincidence! Those were a favourite of hers, too. “Scottish airs have a certain raw beauty. They remind me of landscapes untouched by time.”
“Precisely.”
She found herself smiling in return, and their eyes locked for a fleeting moment. She looked away quickly, annoyed with herself for the warmth rising in her chest.
A brief silence followed, filled only by the crash of waves against the rocks. Elizabeth tilted her head towards the sky, grasping for distraction. “It is strange,” she murmured. “There have been no gulls or sea birds all day.”
Mr. Darcy followed her gaze, his brow furrowing. “You are right. It is unusual.” He glanced at the horizon, where the clouds had begun to thicken. “This stillness in the air is most uncommon.”
“The servants at Hunsford were quite disquieted by the red dawn. They say it might be foreboding.”
“Storms at Rosings can be quite challenging. Navigation becomes impossible, and the island remains separated from the mainland for many days. The villagers must depend on their stock to survive.”
“I cannot imagine living in such isolation.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “The letters my sister sent were delayed, and I felt certain I would go mad with longing for a word from her. She has been in London for the last two months. Did you happen to see her while you were there?”
The gentleman’s entire posture stiffened almost imperceptibly. “No, I did not have that pleasure.”
“Have you heard from Mr. Bingley?” She pressed on.
“He was well when I last saw him in London, a sennight before I travelled to Rosings.”
“Did he mention if he intends to return to Netherfield?”She refused to let the matter rest despite the gentleman’s reluctance to address what he knew.
“I believe. . .” Mr. Darcy appeared to be choosing his words carefully before he continued, “he is considering a more permanent estate elsewhere.”
A pang of disappointment coursed through her on Jane’s behalf. “That is unfortunate. The entire village had expectations that he would return.”
Mr. Darcy said nothing, his gaze fixed on the greyish skies. The wind picked up, carrying with it the first whispers of an approaching storm.
Footsteps sounded against the gravel behind them. “Darcy! There you are.” Colonel Fitzwilliam strode towards them, his usual easy demeanour tinged with urgency. “Lady Catherine has beenasking for you. She is most displeased that you vanished from the gathering.”
Mr. Darcy let out a slow breath, his exasperation obvious. “Is she indeed? And what great offense have I committed now?”
The colonel huffed. “Must I list them all? She is particularly annoyed that you abandoned Anne to seekothercompany.”
Elizabeth arched a brow, glancing between the two cousins. Colonel Fitzwilliam caught her look and added with a conspiratorial air, “I dare say, Miss Bennet, your presence here—or rather your absence there—has been noted as well.”
“Let her note what she pleases.” Mr. Darcy’s jaw tightened.
“Very well.” The colonel released a weary breath. “You had best return before she sends a search party.”
“Excuse me, Miss Bennet,” the gentleman bowed. “I trust you will enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”
With that, he strode away, leaving Colonel Fitzwilliam behind. Rather than following, he lingered beside Elizabeth and offered her his arm.
“Shall we return to the house, Miss Bennet? I would not wish for you to be caught in the storm.”
Elizabeth took his arm, and they began to slowly walk back towards the mansion. “Your cousin does not seem to enjoy his visits to Rosings. You bear it far better than he.”
“It is a long-standing obligation—one neither of us can easily refuse. My father expects it, and Darcy. . . well, he has his own burdens.”
“Burdens?”
“Let us say that my aunt has certain expectations for him,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said with a knowing look. “Expectations he does not entirely share.”
