Soon thereafter, we all retired.
Later, as I drifted closer towards sleep in my guest room, the evening’s entertainment remained in the forefront of my mind. When had I enjoyed myself as much as I had during that game of quadrille? I could not bring to mind even one instance in recent years. Mr. Graham had proved himself to be an admirable card player, and his amiable presence and uncommon attractiveness made him a captivating companion. Even Darcy, after an initial lack of enthusiasm and despite his indifferent performance as a player, had seemed to relax and enjoy the last several deals. Yes, despite Elizabeth’s participation, tonight’s game had been a thoroughly delightful experience.
Monday, 18 September
Darcy
Elizabeth and I began the day with a stop in the nursery. We sat at a table with Bennet, who struggled to complete a puzzle. I always savoured these moments with the three of us alone together. My father had seldom seen me when I was Bennet’s age, yet I found every aspect of my son’s habits, his every action, and each syllable he uttered fascinating.
Elizabeth described the time she and Bennet had spent yesterday with Lady Catherine. “…and then Bennet brought me his favourite book, and I read to him.” A brilliant spark illuminated her eyes. “Your aunt pretended to take no notice of us in favour of her magazine, but I caught her sneaking glances our way, and unless I am mistaken, she never once turned a page.”
My hand covered hers. How I adored her! No other woman would go to such lengths for my sake. “I greatly appreciate your efforts, and I hate that my aunt is so stubborn and unbending. No reasonable person could spend any amount of time with you and Bennet without admiring you both.”
Her head cocked, and her expression brightened. “Not that you are biased in any way.”
My answering smile came without effort, as so often happened in her proximity. We fell into silence as Bennet’s progress with his task absorbed us. Moments later, though, a new thought drew my focus. I wanted to ensure Elizabeth would be home when the surprise guests arrived. Had she made any conflicting plans? “If you have no other engagements tomorrow, I thought we should take Bennet on a picnic—perhaps in the north meadow near the stream?”
“Yes, I should like that.”
I released my fettered breath.
Bennet set down the final piece of the puzzle. He wore a glowing grin. “Mama, Papa, I did it!”
“Well done, Son.” I patted his shoulder.
Elizabeth clapped. “That is wonderful, Bennet.” She bent to kiss his cheek. “I am proud of you.” We took our leave of our son and left the house.
Last night, I had described Bennet’s pony to Elizabeth, and she voiced a desire to see him. So, we stopped at the stables before leaving on our walk. Over the past few weeks, I had struggled to persuade my wife that the Darcy tradition of introducing their children to riding at the tender age of two years was not, as she had put it, “madness.” Over a series of discussions that became heated at times, I had conveyed the importance of our son establishing a strong affinity for horses—an estate owner depended upon his steeds each day of his life.
My wife rushed ahead to the large stall, her countenance glowing and flushed with colour. She opened the gate and entered. The pony ate his breakfast of hay, sparing her the briefest of glances before continuing to feed.
She took slow steps to the pony’s side and stroked his neck. “Oh, Fitzwilliam, he is so beautiful! Bennet will love him. I do not believe any child could fail to be pleased by this fine pony.”
With a grin, I moved to stand beside her. If she proved to be as delighted to see her own new mare, I should be well satisfied. “He is just shy of fourteen hands, almost as big as a horse. Once he acquires the skills, Bennet will be able to ride him for many years to come. This pony can carry an adult male with ease.”
Her brow arched. “You could not have chosen a worse attribute to promote if your object is to convince me of his suitability for Bennet. If the choice had been mine, he would receive the smallest pony in England.”
She teased me, for I had already assured her that Bennet’s more serious riding instruction would be with Georgiana’s old Shetland pony. His “lessons” with his new pony would serve to create a bond between Bennet and the animal and accustom him to the feel of sitting upon a moving horse.
“Nevertheless, I have no doubt our son shall be delighted with your choice.” She slipped her hand in mine, and a sensation of lightness spread within me.
An impulse seized me to present the mare to her today. Should I do that? I could walk her there now. But no, I should wait one more day.
Lambton
Graham
I whistled a cheery tune and ambled towards Pemberley in an energetic gait. I had spent a delightful evening with Sarah Mead. I could not have chosen a better companion.
Of course, my time with the Darcys had been no less enjoyable. Thus far, my holiday had been an enlightening and pleasurable diversion—so pleasurable, in fact, that I had given serious consideration to—
“What do you think you are doing?”
Jerking to a stop, I angled my head towards the gentleman who had appeared beside me out of nowhere. The nondescript man looked to be thirty or so years of age and ordinary in every particular.Clive—it had to be him. My back tensed. Why had hesought me out? No doubt he wanted me to return. In any case, I should not be intimidated.
I sniggered and gestured to my brother in a flippant style. “This is so like you, Clive. You chose the most unremarkable body you could find to inhabit.”
“You are flashy enough for both of us.” He emitted a rude noise. “Unlike you, I know better than to attract undue attention.”
