“You will go on,” he said, almost carelessly. “I have a mind to ride.”
Caroline looked at him with mild curiosity. “In this chill?”
“It is bracing,” he replied.
Bingley scarcely noticed. He was already calculating how long the drive might take.
Darcy gave quiet instructions for his horse and waited only long enough to see the carriage roll away before heading for the stable. The frost had not entirely yielded, and the air sharpened the senses. He was not sorry for it.
***
The Bennet family arrived in excellent time. Mrs. Bennet alighted with visible animation, casting a swift glance about herbefore she advanced toward the small cluster of ladies gathered near the lychgate.
“My dear Mrs. Long! Such a charming morning. We were quite engaged last evening – the Netherfield party dined with us, you know. All of them.”
The information was not delivered loudly, but it carried.
Mrs. Long’s eyebrows rose appropriately. Lady Lucas, who had just approached, declared it a very handsome compliment indeed.
Mrs. Bennet received these responses with modest satisfaction, as though such attentions were merely the natural consequence of proper management.
***
It was Lydia who first noticed the rider approaching at a measured pace along the lane.
“Why, there is Mr. Darcy!”
Darcy slowed as he drew near. For a moment – no more – he considered passing them and making his entrance alone. It would have been the simpler course.
Instead, he turned his horse toward the verge and dismounted.
“Miss Elizabeth. Miss Kitty. Miss Lydia. Good morning.”
They curtseyed together, a bright contrast against the pale morning.
“Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth returned.
He would have said more, but Lydia stepped forward without ceremony.
“You ride very well, sir. Last evening, you spoke of your sister. You must bring her next time. She should see our part of the country. We shall make her quite at home.”
Elizabeth watched him carefully. She ought, she thought, to cease measuring his conduct so closely. Yet she could not prevent herself from doing so.
Darcy’s expression softened almost imperceptibly.
“My sister is easily persuaded by kindness,” he replied. “I shall inform her she has received a most earnest invitation.”
He had scarcely finished when Kitty, emboldened by proximity, ventured her own question.
“And is Derbyshire very fine? I have heard it is quite wild. Are there mountains? I have never seen a mountain.”
He fell into step beside them, leading the horse with an easy hand.
“There are hills enough to satisfy curiosity,” he said. “Though they may disappoint expectations of grandeur.”
“I should like to see them,” Kitty said earnestly.
“I believe you would,” he answered. “It is quieter than Hertfordshire. More trees than people.”
