Chapter 9 #2
“The side-saddle requires a different balance.” Miss Darcy ran her hand over the leather. “Both legs go on the left side, and your right leg hooks over this upper pommel for security. It seems precarious at first, but Atlas is so steady you will hardly notice.”
“It looks complicated.”
“It is,” Miss Darcy said candidly. “Which is why we start slowly.”
“Miss Elizabeth, if you will step up on the block and face me,” Jacob instructed. “I shall make a cradle with my hands for your left foot.”
Elizabeth hopped onto the block. Jacob laced his fingers together at knee height.
“Place your left foot in my hands,” he said. “When you are ready, spring upward. Mr. Darcy and I will guide you until you are above the saddle, then you will come to rest with your right leg hooked over the upper pommel and your left foot finding the stirrup. Do not worry—we will not let you fall.”
“I will steady you from the other side,” Mr. Darcy added, positioning himself at Atlas’s right shoulder where he could reach across to support her if needed.
Elizabeth took a breath, placed her left foot in Jacob’s linked hands, gripped the pommels with both hands, and pushed off the mounting block. Jacob lifted smoothly, guiding her upward, and she seemed to hang suspended in the air before settling onto the saddle.
Mr. Darcy steadied her as she found her balance. His touch, even through layers of fabric, sent her heart racing.
Seated upon Atlas, sitting higher than she had imagined, the world looked entirely different.
The side-saddle position felt precarious.
She gripped the front of the saddle as she tried to find her balance in this unfamiliar arrangement.
Mr. Darcy’s hand remained at her waist, and Elizabeth was acutely aware of every point of contact between them.
“Breathe,” Mr. Darcy said. “You are safe. I have you.”
I have you. The words wrapped around her like a promise.
Even though every instinct told her she would slide off, slowly, Elizabeth loosened her grip.
The side-saddle became less foreign. She became aware of Atlas’s strength beneath her, the incredible reality of sitting atop this magnificent creature.
Atlas shifted his weight, drawing a gasp from Elizabeth. “Oh, this is…”
“Everything?” Mr. Darcy’s voice held gentle amusement.
“Yes. Yes, this is everything.”
Miss Darcy moved to stand beside her brother, her eyes bright. “You look wonderful up there, Miss Elizabeth. Like you were meant to ride.”
“She does,” Mr. Darcy agreed, and the warmth in his voice made Elizabeth’s cheeks flush.
“I suppose she will be ready to race Georgie within a week or so.” The colonel grinned.
She sat for several moments, learning the balance required, how to hold her shoulders and her legs against Atlas’s sides. Miss Darcy explained how to distribute her weight evenly.
When she finally dismounted—with considerably less grace than mounting had required—she felt more alive than she had in years.
“That was extraordinary,” she said, turning to stroke Atlas’s neck. “Thank you. All of you. This was…” Her voice broke. “I cannot adequately express what this means to me.”
“There is no need,” Mr. Darcy said. “Your smile says it all.”
They broke for tea when Hill came to announce that her mother insisted the gentlemen and Miss Darcy join them in the house.
Elizabeth tried to protest—surely they could simply have a tray sent to the stables—but Colonel Fitzwilliam smilingly shook his head and said they could not insult their hostess.
Mrs. Bennet presided over the gathering with determined cheer. And through it all, Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy’s lips twitch with suppressed amusement.
Soon, much to the pleasure of Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bingley was announced.
“Mr. Bingley!” Her mother’s voice could have shattered glass. “How delightful! We had thought—that is to say—Jane, my dear, look who has come to call.”
Bingley failed to notice anyone else in the room. His attention fixed immediately on Jane, his face lighting with such pleasure that even their mother could not mistake his attachment.
“Miss Bennet,” he said, moving to her side.
“I am pleased you are looking so well. I have been extremely worried—that is, we have all been worried…” He must have realized he was making a spectacle of himself.
He turned to include the others. “Darcy, Colonel, Miss Darcy—I did not expect to find you here.”
“Bingley.” Mr. Darcy nodded.
Her mother was not one to overlook an opportunity. “Do join us, Mr. Bingley.” To Mary, she gestured for her to move to another chair so he could sit next to Jane.
“I—yes, thank you.” Bingley took the seat, still unable to look away from Jane.
When asked, Bingley mentioned, with obvious discomfort, that his sister Caroline had departed to stay with their aunt in the North.
“Louisa is serving as my hostess now,” he said, not meeting anyone’s eyes.
“I thought it best, given—that is to say—Caroline’s behavior was inexcusable, and I will not have anyone under my roof who treats my guests with such disrespect. ”
Elizabeth’s esteem for him grew. It could not have been easy to banish his own sister.
“You have made the right decision,” Mr. Darcy said. “Though I am sorry you were put in such a position.”
“As am I, but some things cannot be tolerated.” Bingley glanced at Jane. “Some people are far too important to lose over another’s pride and prejudice.”
The words hung in the air, weighted with meaning. Jane’s cheeks flushed pink. Her mother looked as though someone had just settled five thousand a year on her eldest.
After tea, they returned to the stables, where the afternoon was spent in further instruction.
Elizabeth learnt to lead Atlas, to make him walk forward, and halt with pressure from the lead rope.
Mr. Darcy’s assistance grew more hands-on as the afternoon progressed.
His fingers covered hers to adjust her grip on the rope, his hand at her elbow guiding her position beside the horse.
Each touch, though proper enough with others present, carried an awareness that made Elizabeth’s pulse quicken.
When Elizabeth examined the bridle Jacob held, Mr. Darcy stepped close behind her, his hand resting briefly at her waist as he pointed out the various parts.
The touch was fleeting, easily explained as steadying her reach, but the tenderness in his eyes when she glanced back at him told her it was much more.
As the afternoon faded toward evening, Mr. Darcy called an end to the lesson. “We should gather Bingley and return to Netherfield before dark. The roads will be slow-going with all this rain.”
“Will you come tomorrow?” Elizabeth could not hide her eagerness.
“Yes.” His eyes held hers. “There is more to learn.”
“I should like that.”
They prepared to depart. Colonel Fitzwilliam handed Miss Darcy into the carriage while Mr. Darcy lingered behind. He stood close enough that Elizabeth saw the raindrops in his hair, could smell the wet wool of his coat.
“Thank you,” she said. “For today. For all of this. I know you must have better things to do than spend a rainy day teaching me about horses.”
“This is exactly where I wish to be.” The intensity in his voice made her throat constrict. “Truly.”
He held her gaze, then bowed and climbed inside the carriage. She pressed her hand to her rapidly beating heart.
She was falling in love with Mr. Darcy.
The realization should have frightened her. Instead, it felt as inevitable as the rain.
The next morning, the rain had lessened to a heavy mist that clung to the ground like a gossamer veil. Elizabeth woke before dawn, too excited to sleep, dressed in a riding habit, and went directly to the stables to check on Atlas.
She found Jacob already there, mucking the stables with practiced efficiency.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. You are up early.”
“I could not sleep.” She moved to Atlas’s box, pleased when the horse nickered at her approach. “Good morning to you, too, Handsome.”
Jacob said, “He is a gentleman, that one.”
“He is.” Elizabeth let herself into the box, running her hands over Atlas’s neck, then his shoulder. Already, the shape of him mapped itself onto her memory.
The sound of carriage wheels on the drive made her turn. Even through the mist, she recognized Mr. Darcy’s conveyance.
They had come. Despite the weather, despite the early hour, they had come.
Elizabeth’s smile was so wide it hurt.
“It is not ideal riding weather,” Mr. Darcy said, eyeing the mist with evident misgiving. “But it is better than yesterday. We could walk Atlas down the stable aisle with you mounted, at least. Get you accustomed to movement.”
“Please,” Elizabeth said. “I am ready.”
They saddled Atlas together, Elizabeth performing each step with Mr. Darcy’s guidance, her confidence growing. When she was ready to mount, she needed less help than yesterday, her body remembering the movement.
Sitting atop Atlas felt more natural today. Less terrifying, more thrilling.
“Richard, if you would take his head,” Mr. Darcy instructed. “Walk slowly. Miss Elizabeth, hold the reins as I showed you yesterday—there, just so. Do not pull. Simply maintain contact. Atlas will do the work.”
The colonel clicked his tongue, and the horse stepped forward.
Elizabeth’s pulse leapt. Atlas’s gait was smooth, rolling, and she could feel every muscle shifting, every step reverberating through her body. Her hands gripped the reins too tightly, and she felt Atlas’s mouth react to the pressure.
“Soften your hands,” Mr. Darcy said, walking beside her. “Trust him. He knows what to do.”
Elizabeth breathed deeply, forcing her hands to relax. Atlas continued his steady walk down the length of the stable, turned, and walked back. Forward and back, forward and back, until Elizabeth’s body began to move with him rather than against him.
“Beautiful,” Miss Darcy called from alongside Sam. “Miss Elizabeth, you look beautiful!”
Elizabeth was lost in the rhythm of riding the magnificent animal.
When they finally halted, and Jacob helped her dismount, Elizabeth’s legs shook and her face hurt from smiling.
Mr. Darcy said, “If the weather clears, tomorrow we shall try the lane. Just a short walk outside. Would you like that?”
“More than anything.”
She did not add that she would like it even more if he continued to walk beside her, his presence steadying, his encouragement warming her more than any sun could manage.
But perhaps he already knew.