The weather remained uncooperative in the days thatfollowed, confining the ladies to the indoors. Colonel Fitzwilliam paid the parsonage two visits, once alone and once with Miss de Bourgh, who had taken an unexpected interest in Maria Lucas. Mr. Darcy, however, remained elusive, appearing only at church.
Then, at last, the skies cleared. Taking advantage of the fair weather, Elizabeth returned to her explorations out of doors. As she approached her favoured ledge, her senses pricked up—someone else was already nearby.
Mr. Darcy stood at the edge, gazing at the horizon, his hat forgotten on the stone beside him.
She halted abruptly, instinct urging her to turn away before he noticed her presence. Yet, before she could retreat, he turned, catching sight of her.
“Miss Bennet,” he said, stepping forward. “Let me assist you.”
Elizabeth hesitated, but declining his help would be more awkward than accepting it. Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his, and he pulled her onto the platform.
“I know you to be a good walker; I should have imagined you would be a fearless climber as well.” His smile was unexpected, almost teasing. “This place is particularly difficult to access.”
“I manage well enough.” She withdrew her hand as soon as she had steady footing.
“You acquit yourself admiringly,” he said. “This spot has been a favourite of mine since childhood, both for its view and the solitude it offers. I take great pleasure in coming here to clear my thoughts—watching the boats drift, the seagulls circle over the waves. It is a place of quiet reflection, away from daily troubles.”
“I am sorry if I have interrupted your musings, sir. I had not intended to intrude.” Elizabeth crossed her arms, unwilling to let her unease show. Considering his abrupt departure the other night at Rosings, this unexpected shift in his demeanour was disconcerting. He now appeared contemplative rather than irritated. The man was a walking contradiction, and the uncertainty discomposed her.
“On the contrary, madam. Your presence is most welcome,” he said with a half smile as he turned his gaze back to the sea. “The weather is much improved today. You can even see the coast of Ceredigion.”
The clouds parted, revealing a patch of blue sky above them, and for a brief moment the comforting warmth of the sun covered her face.
“I can understand why you like it so much,” she said, if only to fill the silence. “The view is splendid.”
“It is—though I would not trade the hills and dales of Derbyshire for any other place in the world.”
“Do you spend much of your time there?”
“Not as much as I would like.” He sighed. “I have been away from home for quite some time and wish I could return soon, yet my obligations keep pulling me elsewhere.”
Her lips pressed firmly together as she tried to find sense in his words. It seemed strange that a man of such fortune should speak as though constrained.
He stood quietly for a moment, eyes closed, face lifted to the sun as the breeze played with his hair. He looked unusually relaxed,and the expression favoured him greatly. Was he thinking of Pemberley? If so, she could readily sympathise; she too missed her home dearly.
“Your friend seems to have settled well in Hunsford,” he said at last. “Knowing my aunt’s disposition and the island’s peculiarities, it must have been difficult for Mrs. Collins to adapt. The isolation and the unpredictability of its weather can be challenging for those unaccustomed to the conditions. Rosings is a great change from Hertfordshire.”
“I presume it was strenuous for her at first, although she would never admit it. But my friend has excellent understanding. Perhaps marrying Mr. Collins was not the wisest thing she ever did, and the distance from home is considerable, yet she seems to have reconciled with her situation.”
“Indeed, a five-day journey is not what one would consider an easy distance.”
“Especially for those who do not have the means to come and go at will,” Elizabeth said with feeling.
“I should imagine so.” A faint shadow crossed his features, and he looked away.
She followed his gaze to the horizon. “It is quite arduous to be far from home, especially when returning is not in one’s power. My friend has borne it with good sense, though I dare say there are moments when she must feel the weight of the separation. You, at least, are spared such restrictions.”
Mr. Darcy regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Perhaps, madam. But I assure you, it is not without its own trials.”
She frowned. There it was again—that unspoken weight he seemed to carry. Whatever troubled him had begun to pierce his usual reserve, offering her fleeting glimpses of a man more burdened than she had imagined. What concern could press so heavily upon him? Were his aunt’s expectations of marriage already bearing down with unwelcome urgency? Or were there other obligations, equally cumbersome, demanding his attention?
Before she could begin to guess, the clouds gathered once more, and the warmth was gone.
“I should return to the house,” his brow furrowed as he glanced at the darkening sky. “Allow me to assist you down.”
This time, she did not hesitate to take his hand. He helped her descend the uneven rocks with care. But once her feet were firmly on solid ground, she looked up only to find he was already walking away.
As he stepped towards the other path, Elizabeth’s gaze followed him, her wariness of him unchanged. Yet, beneath the caution, a new emotion stirred: curiosity.
