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CHAPTER 13

It seemed the brilliant sun, the crisp blue sky, and the fluffy white clouds conspired to make it the perfect day for the royal outing. Ben was impatient to come across the spot he and Darcy had dubbed the possible location of Excalibur, excitedly pulling his mother along by the hand, every step of the way. Upon their arrival, neither could be disappointed at the enchanting view that stretched before them.

Darcy, along with a small team of Lady Catherine’s servants, had staged the grounds with a makeshift jousting field, a fencing area, and even an archery range. Not even in his wildest imagination did Ben expect all that.

Darcy had awaited their arrival eagerly. He enthusiastically greeted them both with a brilliant smile.

“Good morning, Guinevere,” he bowed before directing his attention to Ben. “Good morning, Sir Lancelot. Are the two of you prepared for a morning of excitement?”

Ben could scarcely contain his exuberance. He raced off to explore the grounds. Darcy did not mind. Assured of Ben’s safety, with so many servants about to see to it, he took Elizabeth’s hand in his own. He kissed it lingeringly as if it were the most precious kiss he ever had imparted.

Elizabeth’s heart raced. On the one hand, she knew she would have to establish ground rules with him. To do otherwise would not be fair to either of them. On the other hand, her thoughts cried out, I hunger for his touch. Elizabeth tempted fate as long as she dared. Endeavouring to break their contact, she spoke impishly, “Are you to start at this once again, Mr. Darcy?”

“I cannot help it,” Darcy said, lowering her hand but still not quite ready to let go of it completely. “I have thought of little other than this very moment since I last saw you. I have missed you. Thank you for coming.”

Elizabeth pulled her hand free of his gentle grasp. “From the look of this place, I would say you had quite a few things on your mind. You have outdone yourself, Mr. Darcy. This is unbelievable. I am most grateful to you.”

“This is no trouble at all,” Darcy said, as he moved to stand by her side and appreciate the same view as she enjoyed. “Besides, I would do anything in the world to bring a smile to Ben’s face. Should I succeed in pleasing you as well, it is all the reward I shall ever need.”

Elizabeth avowed, “Then, I am very pleased, Mr. Darcy.”

The powerful emotions that passed between them were left unvoiced with Ben’s enthusiastic return. “What shall we do first, my King?” Ben pleaded, practically teeming over with excitement.

“Let us see, young sir. There is archery, fencing, horseback riding, and I even have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise! How wonderful! I love surprises. What is it?”

“I encourage you and your mother to have a seat,” Darcy said, directing them to the strategically placed chairs off to their left. Once everyone was seated, Darcy signalled to a nearby servant, who signalled another servant, and soon two horsemen took their places on the jousting field. Ben’s imagination overflowed with anticipation as the two riders moved to face one another in combat. He had read about, but never actually witnessed, a true jousting tournament! Such that it was—it was actually quite amusing, as neither horseman knew precisely what the art entailed, having received the briefest of instructions from Darcy just that morning. It was enough for Ben, if one would guess by the look on his face. He was thoroughly entertained.

Next, it was time to move to the archery range. Having secured Elizabeth’s permission to engage in such sport, Darcy and Ben walked ahead. Darcy accepted the bow and arrow offered to him by his valet.

“Mind you, Sir Lancelot,” Darcy said as he raised the bow and positioned the arrow, “archery is a sport requiring the utmost discipline for it can be quite dangerous.” He lowered the bow and arrow. “You must remember always to keep your arrows pointed in a safe direction,” Darcy demonstrated as he spoke, “keep it either aimed at the target or pointed to the ground.”

Darcy then aimed the arrow at the farthest target and landed a perfect hit.

“Let me try! Let me try!” Ben shouted with unbridled enthusiasm.

“Have patience, young man. There is far more to this sport than simply aiming and shooting,” Darcy cautioned. He summoned his valet over to join them once again. “My man will teach you the finer points before you are allowed to start. Pay attention, and remember, Sir Lancelot, patience and discipline.”

“What shall you do, whilst I am being tutored?” Ben called out as he watched his friend step away.

Darcy cast a glance towards Elizabeth, who had chosen to keep up a safe distance. “I should like to persuade Guinevere to give it a try.”

Some moments later, Guinevere wondered at just how easily persuaded she had been. The warm morning sun, combined with the anticipated intensity of his excursions, prompted Darcy to remove his jacket and loosen his cravat just a bit. He then removed his cuff links, placing them on the seat of the chair, over the back of which he had casually placed his jacket, and he rolled up his sleeves. He had managed it all without tearing his eyes from Elizabeth’s for even a second. It was not as though Elizabeth had not borne witness to such acts on other occasions. Never before had the experience rendered her weak in the knees.

There the two of them stood. It was astounding to her that she found herself such, ensconced in his warm embrace, his right hand resting securely on her upper arm and his other hand gently resting on hers.

Darcy was in no hurry at all. He was ever mindful of the words of caution spoken just moments earlier on the need for patience and discipline. Those words served as his mantra as he held Elizabeth closely. Discipline proved the key as he commanded his body not to betray his innermost thoughts. Patience was also a virtue for Darcy had exercised the utmost patience, standing there breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, the faint hint of perfume, and the unmistakable essence of her yearning.

Ever mindful of his mission to show her the finer points of the craft, he spoke softly in her ear carefully, purposefully chosen, yet decidedly instructive words of caution, which flowed from his lips much like sensual prose. The warmth of his breath against her ear infused her entire being.

At length, Darcy gently guided Elizabeth towards a smooth release, driving the arrow deep into the target.

Sooner than Darcy would have wished, Elizabeth recalled herself to their surroundings. Rather than wait for Darcy to retrieve another arrow, and thus resume where they had left off, she sat the bow aside.

“I think I had better try another sport, Mr. Darcy,” she said, as she proceeded to walk away slowly.

“That sounds promising, my lady,” Darcy spoke suggestively, “what sport do you have in mind?”