Chapter 18
Such an honest and direct response surprised and disconcerted Elizabeth. She was still angry with him but had no arguments to continue the dispute. Their gazes remained locked for a while, then she began walking again.
“This is the highest point of Oakham Mount,” she finally said when the wind chilled her face and blew away some of her rage. “The tallest hill in the area and with the best view.”
They stood side by side, silently looking down into the valley for a few long moments.
“It is a beautiful view, indeed. I am grateful to you for bringing me here, Miss Bennet.”
“I imagine it is nothing compared to Pemberley, though. My aunt speaks so highly of it that it sounds impressive and intimidating at the same time.”
“Perhaps it would be best if you could judge it for yourself,” he said, and she stared at him in disbelief.
“I would be honoured if I could welcome you to Pemberley sometimes soon, Miss Bennet,” he concluded, deepening her confusion.
“That would be lovely,” she managed to reply after some struggle, her anxiety overcoming her previous anger. “Mr Darcy, I believe we should return home now. It must be past breakfast time.”
She began to walk back, quickening her pace, and he hastened to follow her.
With every step, her heart raced and her head spun. Had he just invited her to Pemberley? After he had admitted he had given much thought to the notion of calling on her? What was the meaning of this?
What was he implying? Could he have any serious design on her? After he disapproved of his friend for being too quickly charmed by Jane? How could anyone understand a difficult and confusing man like Mr Darcy?
“Is that a cottage?” Mr Darcy suddenly asked, and Elizabeth glanced around, then paused her strides.
“Yes…it is at the edge of the Longbourn estate. My father built it with my uncle, probably fifteen years ago. There is also a pond down there. We used to fish from that bridge.”
“Did you swim in that pond too?” he asked.
She cast a quick glance at him and noticed his little smile. “Actually, yes, much to my mother’s disapproval. I was about five years old then.”
“Do you still fish?”
“I have not done so in years. After my uncle married and had his own children, he spent less and less time here. But perhaps now that my cousins are old enough to enjoy it, we might revive the old habits.”
“We have many places to fish at Pemberley. It is also one of my and my sister’s favourite activities. There is a lake and several ponds.” He kept his voice light, and she could not handle the distress for long.
“Mr Darcy, are you speaking in earnest? Have you just invited me to Pemberley?”
He frowned. “Did you suspect I was speaking in jest? It would have been very ungentlemanly of me to trifle with you. I also invited your uncle and aunt. Mrs Gardiner said they intend to take a long trip to Derbyshire this summer to visit Lambton. We agreed that, when it happens, they will stay at Pemberley.”
He spoke in a natural, friendly tone, while Elizabeth stared at him with growing stupor.
“My aunt never mentioned that,” she said.
“Probably because their journey is not decided yet. When it is, it would be my greatest pleasure if you could join them.”
“Oh…thank you,” she replied. There was no doubt left in his invitation, but her anxiety did not diminish. She resumed her walk, as Longbourn was already in sight.
“Mr Darcy, would you like to come into the house? I am sure my father would be delighted to see you.” As she spoke, she turned to look at him, but her agitated state of mind, the tumult of thoughts, and the stirrings of feelings inside her made her careless about her movements.
Her right foot slipped on the wet grass, and she lost her balance.
She let out a little cry, expecting to fall, but she felt herself grasped by strong hands and held inside warm arms. With frantic gestures, her hands gripped his coat, and they clung to each other until she was steady on her feet.
Elizabeth did not know how long they stood there, her body pressed to his, aware of his warmth, his scent, his strength.
His closeness built a fire within her, and she realised with delightful mortification that in saving her from the fall, Mr Darcy’s hands had touched her breasts.
It had lasted only an instant, but the sensation — even through his thick gloves and her coat — had been so powerful that it made her dizzy.
“Thank you, sir. I am sorry. I feel so silly. I cannot remember falling in many years,” she whispered, her eyes avoiding his.
“There is nothing to be sorry for. In fact, I am surprised you can walk so quickly and so far in those shoes. I advise sturdier boots for such weather.”
She forced a smile, brushing her hands over her clothes and struggling to regain a bit of dignity, while she could not help glancing at his hands, which he was twisting together in a nervous manner.
So he had looked at her shoes? Her petticoat and dress must be dirty too — had he noticed that?
He probably had; he seemed to pay attention to every small detail.
Was he aware that he had touched her breasts?
If he was, that would be mortifying indeed. How could she face him?
Her exhilaration remained long after the embrace — awkward yet more pleasant than anything she had felt before. With more care, she resumed walking towards Longbourn, praying that the wind would blow the redness from her face.
“I would like to come inside and greet your father, but I fear he might be tired of my presence. I have called on him almost every day.”
Only then did she remember that she had invited him to Longbourn, and she tried to answer with more composure than she actually felt.
“I assure you that is not the case. In a house with six women, he cherishes the company of an educated gentleman.”
“Then I shall come and greet him. Do you think he would approve that you walked with me to Oakham Mount?”
Heat crept up her neck. “We had better tell them that I went for a walk and we just met as I returned. It would raise fewer questions.”
“I see. I confess I am not comfortable keeping secrets about our meetings — the ones back in Brighton as well as this one. But I trust your judgment. However, I hope I have not exposed you to any uncomfortable circumstances that you feel the need to conceal from your father.”
She paused one more time, facing him. “If we are to speak the plain truth, it was rather uncomfortable seeing you wounded and bleeding on a secluded beach,” she said teasingly.
“I imagine any other woman would have been frightened and probably run away.”
“But I cannot blame you for that. It was certainly not your choice, was it?”
“Certainly not.”
“The reason I prefer not to reveal it to my family is to avoid endless enquiries, not only to me but to you too. My father is rather fond of making sport of people and my mother of sharing gossip. As much as I love them both, I must admit that.”
“As I said, I trust your judgment, Miss Bennet.”
“Mr Darcy, since we have returned to this subject, may I ask, what happened to your attacker? In Brighton, I mean. I am sorry for pressing you on this delicate subject, but I hope he was properly punished.”
His distress became immediately apparent in his expression.
“There is no need to apologise, Miss Bennet. Some measures have been taken, but I prefer to keep the matter private. The man…he is an old acquaintance who acted foolishly during a disagreement where he could not have his own way.”
“Foolishly? That word is surely too weak to describe his actions. If you can so easily forgive, you are more generous than I, Mr Darcy.”
“It was not generosity but rather prudence in handling a situation before it became a scandal that might affect my family.”
“I see… It seems prudence is one of your strongest traits,” she concluded.
“Shall I take that as praise or censure?”
“Neither — just an observation. Come, let us go inside. I am a little cold.”
They had nearly reached the house when Elizabeth decided she might as well make one final enquiry and clarify the last remaining misunderstanding.
“Mr Darcy, one more question. About Mr Bingley and Jane. You are certainly entitled to your opinion, and I cannot fault you for expressing it openly. However, if Mr Bingley’s admiration for my sister and her affection for him turned out to be real, grounded, and strong, would you still have any objections to their relationship? ”
He seemed surprised again, and another brief hesitation preceded his answer.
“As I already mentioned, those were not objections but reservations. I believe an honest friend should express concerns and admit when he is proved wrong.”
“I could not agree more, sir. A man whose pride and vanity exceed his sense of truth and justice could hardly be called a gentleman.”
“I could not agree more, Miss Bennet,” he repeated.
Light-hearted, with her mind finally clear of distress, Elizabeth smiled up at Mr Darcy as they approached Longbourn.
Then her attention was drawn to the gate onto the lane, where Lydia and Kitty were talking loudly and laughing with a few officers.
She had not even noticed the group, so preoccupied she had been by her conversation with Mr Darcy.
She observed the officers — strangers to her but apparently friendly with her younger sisters, wondering about their presence.
“Lizzy, look who we found!” Lydia called, approaching with the men.
“They offered to escort us home. Was that not kind of them? Come, let me introduce you. This is Denny, Sanderson, and Mr Wickham! Mr Wickham just arrived from London last night and joined the regiment. Is it not wonderful! Come, let us go inside. Mama will be so happy to meet you all!”
The officers bowed, somehow uncomfortable as Lydia all but pushed them towards the house. They were all young and handsome, all smiling with polite friendliness, so Elizabeth curtseyed to them.
Then she remembered her companion and turned to Mr Darcy, but she was stilled by his pale countenance, his entire expression utterly altered. He seemed unaware of her presence, his attention fully on the officers.
“Oh, here is Mr Darcy. I did not even see you, sir!” Lydia cried. “He is a friend of Mr Bingley, who has let Netherfield Park. You might know him. I hear Mr Darcy has a huge estate in Derbyshire!”
The officers bowed ceremoniously, and so did Mr Darcy. At a glance, Elizabeth observed a strange redness that coloured Mr Wickham’s face, different from his friends’ composed politeness.
Lydia, Kitty, and the officers strode towards the house, while Elizabeth remained behind, looking at Mr Darcy.
“Shall we enter, sir?”
He appeared distressed, startled by her question, and suddenly took a step back.
“Actually, I have just remembered I have some urgent business to attend to. I must leave immediately. Please convey my best wishes to your father. Good day, Miss Bennet,” he said, and, before Elizabeth had time to reply, or even to understand him properly, he jumped into the saddle and was gone.
Astounded, puzzled, with a grip in her stomach, Elizabeth gazed after him.
What had just happened? Minutes ago, he had appeared eager to call on her father.
They had shared a lovely conversation and seemed to have clarified all their misunderstandings; yet he had suddenly changed his mind — changed himself entirely.
Was it something she had said? Or was he too appalled to see her younger sisters on such improperly friendly terms with the officers?
Did he find the officers’ company too beneath him so wished to avoid them?
He was a puzzling, annoying, hateful man that she could not understand at all!
Mr Darcy’s grimace, his displeasure, was beyond a doubt. However, Mr Wickham’s response was even more puzzling. Could that man’s presence have caused Mr Darcy’s sudden absence?
The anxiety and the questions with no answers, from which Elizabeth hoped she had escaped, all returned in waves that made her head spin.
She finally entered the house to face her mother and sisters’ unjustified cheerfulness.
But her astonishment had not come to an end, as she found another strange man sitting on the sofa in the middle of the drawing room.
Her walk to Oakham Mount with Mr Darcy had been a source of countless surprises, and very few of them were pleasant.