As the music quickened and they took their places, Elizabeth could not deny his company was agreeable.
Chapter seven
Darcy stepped down the front steps of Netherfield as the first pale light spread across the fields. The air was crisp but not harsh, and the promise of a clear day showed in the brightening sky along the hedgerows.
It was well suited to a long ride. He made his way to the stables and entered Atlas’s stall. The horse lifted his head at the sound of his name and stepped forward, nudging Darcy’s coat pocket with clear intention.
Darcy allowed himself a faint smile. “Yes, I have not forgotten.”
Atlas accepted the carrot with satisfaction while Darcy fastened the saddle and bridle. When all was ready, he led the horse into the yard and mounted with easy familiarity. Today he chose a different direction, away from the road to Meryton and toward the open ground beyond. The land lay quiet at that hour. A thin mist clung to the low ground, lifting slowly as the sun rose. After some distance, he came upon several men at work in what appeared to be a shallow depression in the earth. Stakes marked out a broad perimeter.
Mr. Wilmot stood nearby in conversation with one of the labourers.
Darcy drew rein and inclined his head. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” Wilmot replied, stepping away from the men. “A fine day for riding.”
“It is indeed.” Darcy gestured toward the excavation. “A pond, I presume?”
“Yes. This ground floods in the wetter months. We determined it better to make use of it than to struggle against it.”
“An entirely sensible approach,” Darcy observed. “For fish?”
“And water plants,” Wilmot said. “It will serve both practical and ornamental purposes.”
Darcy nodded thoughtfully. “A good use of otherwise troublesome ground.”
His gaze shifted toward a modest rise in the distance. “Would it be permitted to ride up that hill?”
Wilmot turned to look. “Oakham Mount. It belongs to Longbourn, but visitors are not discouraged.”
“Thank you.” Darcy urged Atlas forward.
A narrow path wound upward. The ascent was steady but not taxing. At the summit, he reined in and surveyed the landscape. Netherfield lay behind him, orderly and contained. Beyond, Longbourn stretched across its fields, carefully divided and bordered by well-maintained hedgerows.
To one side, on the far edge of Netherfield land and set well apart from the principal stable yard, stood a larger stable block than he had previously noticed. It faced outward toward the open grazing fields rather than inward toward the house. Several men were at work there. Two horses were being exercised along a straight stretch of turf. Another stood saddled while a groom adjusted its bridle. This was no arrangement for leisure riding.
Darcy studied the placement with quiet interest. The stable’s position was deliberate, set upon Netherfield acreage yetbordering the Longbourn pastures closely enough to serve them with efficiency. The arrangement was practical. He shifted his gaze toward the orchard. From this height he could see its orderly spacing and the smaller plantings beneath the trees. It was no haphazard cultivation, but careful design. Below, the pond excavation lay in progress. The operations of the two estates were not separate but thoughtfully aligned.
The sun had climbed higher than he intended. He glanced at the position of the light and gave a small nod to himself. Breakfast would not wait forever. He patted Atlas’s neck and turned back toward Netherfield.
***
The family was gathered in the drawing room, awaiting the arrival of Mr. Collins.
Lydia muttered under her breath that even history lessons would prove more diverting than the visit of a solemn clergyman. Mrs. Tyler inclined her head toward her pupil, and Lydia immediately sat straighter, though her expression remained faintly aggrieved.
Voices sounded in the foyer. A moment later, Mr. Hill appeared in the doorway.
“Mr. Collins.”
The family rose. Mr. Bennet stepped forward. “Welcome to Longbourn, sir. I am Mr. Bennet. This is my wife, Mrs. Bennet, and our daughters, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia. Mrs. Tyler is governess to the younger girls.”
Each lady curtseyed in turn.
Mr. Collins bowed with careful precision. “I thank you for so gracious a reception. I perceive at once that my cousins are most handsome.”
Mr. Bennet’s expression altered almost imperceptibly. “Pray, be seated.”
