Page 44 of Conundrums & Coincidences

“That will not be necessary.”

With thoughts that could rest on nothing, she chose to be bold. “There is one thing I would ask of you.”

“Anything.” He raised her bare hand to his lips. “Ask anything of me.”

She closed her eyes. Will you do that again, please? “Will you accompany me while I take the air? Otherwise, I honestly shall not know what to do with myself. Until I am reunited with my father, and we meet with Mr Pemberton in London, there is little I can do in the way of planning for my future. So, for now, I shall do something requiring physical rather than mental effort.”

“It will be my pleasure to accompany you, madam. Shall we say in…ten minutes? And will you invite Miss Rigby?”

As she set her foot upon the second stair, Elizabeth rather flippantly replied, “I would rather not.”

Fifteen minutes later, sporting a pale-green spencer over her sprigged muslin and wearing bonnet, gloves, and her half-boots, she strolled arm in arm with Mr Darcy. “How unusual,” she said. “Neither my chaperon nor a gardener within sight.”

“Nevertheless”—he lowered his voice and twitched his head across the lawn towards the stable—“once again, we are being watched.”

Jimmy was espied lurking about and observing them while playing with a stick. “Surely, sir, a stable-boy has not been tasked with watching us.”

Mr Darcy beckoned, and Jimmy came running. “What mischief have you been getting into today, young man?” He ruffled the boy’s hair.

Jimmy shrugged. “Nothing, sir. There’s not much work to do since the only two carriages left are yours and Mr Monroe’s. I’ve been playing quoits with this rope ring and broken broom handle, but it’s not much fun by myself.” The boy sounded terribly downcast, but his eyes lit up as he turned to Elizabeth. “Do you have any of those comforts with you, miss?”

“Comforts? Well, as you see, I do have Mr Darcy here with me. And, indeed, his presence is a great comfort.” She squeezed the gentleman’s arm and smiled at the boy.

“Aw, miss, not him! I meant those sugary-sweet comforts you had.”

Elizabeth caught Mr Darcy mouthing, “Comfits.”

“Alas, all I have today are”—from the concealed pocket of her gown, she presented four wrapped sweets—“orange bomboons.”

“Hurrah!” The boy danced in place. “But will bomboons give me the toothache?”

She bit her lip, subduing a smile. “Most likely.”

Jimmy shrugged. “May I have one in any case? Please.”

“You may take two. The others are for Mr Darcy and me.”

“Good heavens!” cried the gentleman with an exaggerated shudder. “I recently read a report saying baboons were very big and hairy and horrible to look at. And now I discover they may cause the toothache. I shall pass, thank you. Jimmy may have mine.”

Delighted, Elizabeth smiled while the boy grinned. Mr Darcy was being frivolous, and she expected it was as much for her benefit as Jimmy’s. Be still, my heart! He has a sense of humour and is good with children.

Speaking then round a mouthful of chewy bomboon, Jimmy asked whether they wanted to play quoits with him. “I know I’m not supposed to bother you folks, but you looked like you weren’t having much fun either, just walking about doing nothing.” He put a finger in his mouth and unstuck a piece of bomboon from a tooth. “Miss Bennet, is it true you own Oakwood?”

Elizabeth said it was not yet official, but, yes, she had won the tournament.

“So, Mr Darcy,” said Jimmy, frowning at him, “are you wooing Miss Bennet now?”

Her face grew hot. “Quoits! What a wonderful idea. I saw metal rings and a hob amongst other equipment in the games room cupboard. Shall I fetch them?” She began to move away, only to be stopped by the gentleman’s hand upon her arm.

“I am trying to woo you, Miss Bennet,” he whispered, “but not because you are an heiress. My affections and wishes have been unchanged since April.”

Her eyes grew wider. Was he going to make an offer of marriage in front of Jimmy?

Heedless of grass stains, Mr Darcy then went down on one knee in front of the stable-boy, looked into his eager, young eyes, and…spoke too softly for her to hear what he was saying to him. Botheration!

Regardless of whatever was being said between the two—and Elizabeth suspected it had to do with either wooing or quoits—she replaced her image of giddy Kitty and laughing Lydia playing a game on the lawn. In her mind’s eye, she pictured her own children, the next generation of Darcys, playing quoits with their father.

That gentleman stood, and Jimmy nodded solemnly at him. Then the sad-faced boy waved to Elizabeth and walked towards the stable, head bowed, feet dragging.