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This fierce competition provided Darcy with generous expanses of freedom. He did not have a single moment of true privacy with Miss Elizabeth, as propriety demanded they remain in the company of the others, but the constant presence of his sister and his cousin proved to be no hardship. The four of them formed a merry, cohesive party, insulated from the card tournament.

Three mornings after the first card evening, the Derbyshire sun had warmed the air considerably by noon. Lady Catherine, having suffered a narrow defeat in the latest round of piquet, demanded a change of scenery.

“We shall tour the grounds,” the matriarch announced, rising from her chair and pointing a finger to her nephew. “The dampness has abated. We shall take the air. Fitzwilliam, order the conveyances. I shall ride in the closed travelling coach with Mr and Mrs Gardiner. We must resolve a dispute regarding the scoring of the final trick, and the coach will prevent the wind from scattering the deck.”

“I shall arrange it immediately, Aunt,” Darcy promised, bowing to hide the smile breaking on his lips.

An hour later, Martin oversaw the loading of the coach, ensuring a small table with a raised rim was secured between the seats to accommodate the continued card tournament. The coachman had instructions to keep to the smoothest drives and proceed at a walk.

Darcy claimed the high phaeton for himself. He required no coachman, choosing to manage the matched pair of greys personally. He assisted Miss Elizabeth into the front bench, her light muslin gown settling elegantly over the cushions. Anne and Georgiana occupied the rear seats, both young women holding fringed parasols to shield their complexions from the midday sun.

Darcy took his place, gathered the reins, offered a subtle click of his tongue, and the greys stepped forward, pulling the open carriage smoothly over the gravel.

They drove through the winding paths of the estate, the wind rushing past them. Darcy did not have the opportunity to whisper romantic declarations, nor could he steal a private moment in a secluded grove. His sister and Anne sat behind him, able to listen to every syllable he uttered.

Yet, he found he did not mind the lack of solitude in the slightest, because he was in excellent company.

“You manage the horses with remarkable skill, Mr Darcy.” Miss Elizabeth tilted her parasol to afford him a better view of her brilliant smile. “They appear quite eager to run, yet they yield to your direction.”

“They are spirited animals,” Darcy said, keeping his attention fixed on the path ahead, though his awareness was centred on the lady beside him. “They require a steady touch. Any sudden movements confuse them.”

“A lesson for all aspects of life,” Miss Elizabeth observed, a teasing lilt elevating her words. “I suspect you apply the exact same philosophy to your tenant farmers, sir.”

“I attempt to employ patience,” Darcy agreed, turning his head briefly to catch the mirth dancing in her eyes. “Though occasionally, a farmer requires a firm reminder regarding the proper maintenance of a roof.”

“Just as a younger sister occasionally requires a firm reminder regarding her pianoforte practice,” Georgiana chimed in from the rear seat, her tone bubbling with delight.

“I never remind you to practise, Georgiana,” Darcy countered, feigning severe injury. “I merely suggest that the instrument misses your company.”

“You have a very diplomatic brother, Miss Darcy,” Miss Elizabeth called over her shoulder. “He disguises his commands as polite suggestions. We must be very careful, lest he suggest we walk back to the manor.”

“He would never suggest such a cruel exertion,” Anne defended him, shifting on the plush cushions. “My mother’s coachman usually requires a great deal of shouting to achieve this steady pace. Fitzwilliam merely sits there, emanating authority. I believe he intimidates the horses into compliance.”

“I do not intimidate the horses, Anne,” Darcy protested, though a low chuckle rumbled in his throat.

“You intimidate the footmen, Cousin,” Anne pointed out reasonably. “Bates dropped a spoon in the hallway this morning, and upon seeing you approach, he offered his apologies to the floor before scurrying away.”

“Bates is a unique individual,” Darcy murmured, guiding the phaeton around a gentle curve in the path. “He has a very dramatic disposition.”

“He has a tragic soul,” Miss Elizabeth corrected. “He was prepared to bequeath his cracked whistle to his brother Michael. We must respect his wishes and artistic temperament.”

The carriage filled with the sound of their shared laughter and Darcy felt a sense of peace settle over him. He was a gentleman driving his family through his ancestral lands, accompanied by the woman who held his heart captive.

They drove through the dense woodland, the tall oaks and maples parting to reveal the great valley of the estate. Darcy guided the phaeton up a gentle incline, halting the greys on a wide crest.

The view before them was spectacular. The valley stretched out in a beautiful tapestry of lush green meadows, winding streams, and Pemberley sitting in the centre, perfectly framed by the surrounding hills. The afternoon sun illuminated the windows of the manor, turning the glass into sheets of spun gold.

Miss Elizabeth fell silent. She closed her parasol and laid it on the seat, allowing the sunshine to warm her face. She stood, resting her palms on the carriage frame, her eyes wide with unfeigned awe.

“It is breathtaking,” she murmured. She turned her gaze towards him. “I have travelled through many counties with my relatives, Mr Darcy, and I can safely declare that Pemberley is the most beautiful place on earth.”

Darcy’s chest expanded with pride and gratitude. She was not praising his wealth, nor was she evaluating his social consequence; she was admiring the home he loved, the land he tended, and she was doing so with sincerity.

“It is far more beautiful today than it was a week ago,” he replied, his tone thick with devotion.

Miss Elizabeth blushed and resumed her seat.

It was a perfect afternoon. The open courtship guaranteed no solitude, yet it provided everything Darcy required. He had the laughter of his family, the beauty of his land, and the promise of a shared future with the lady smiling beside him.