Chapter 6 Morning Rides with Mr. Darcy
Knight’s Manor
Elizabeth
Ientered the breakfast-parlour to find the others seated at the table and took the empty chair beside Cassie.
My cousin Noah, seated across from me, slid the toast rack in my direction. “Where did you go this morning?”
Despite having rushed home, I still returned to the house over an hour later than usual. “I went to Springvale.”
Uncle Barton looked up from his newspaper. “Ah, you have been to see Lily. How did you find her?”
“She is well.” I selected a piece of toast and spread butter upon it. “Mr. Darcy approached me in the stables.”
Cassie perked upright, eyeing me. “Did you apologise to him?”
“Yes, and he was most gracious.” Even further, he had been thoughtful and kind. What a shock it had been to find him so…likeable. As much as it still pained me to lose Lily, I found it impossible to retain any resentment for him.
She grinned and pointed her half-eaten muffin at me. “So you admit I was right about him?”
“Indeed, yes.” I gave Noah a sheepish look. “And you as well.”
“This is a marked change.” Noah raised his mug of coffee and took a sip. “I am glad you have abandoned your former prejudice against the man. A few days ago, your eagerness to jump to the worst conclusions about him appeared to be boundless.”
A blush warmed my cheeks, though Noah’s smile softened the sting of his remark.
I ought to provide an explanation for my change of heart.
“Mr. Darcy explained that he bought Lily as a gift for his much younger sister. He invited me to ride Lily during the course of his stay at Springvale, so I shall do so as often as I can manage.”
“How exceedingly generous of him.” Cassie’s smile diminished, and her eyes narrowed. “I wonder why he extended such a charitable invitation. After all, he paid a pretty price for Lily and has no obligation to you in any way.”
“No, of course not. He explained his reasoning. He wants to provide Lily a more gradual separation from me.” Under Cassie’s scrutiny, the heat upon my countenance increased.
She would not be pleased to know I had ridden with her new favourite gentleman and would do so again, so that detail would be best kept to myself.
Uncle Barton and Noah finished their meals and left to inspect a new section of fencing.
Although she too had consumed the food on her plate, Cassie remained in her seat. She shifted to face me. “Lizzy, since it seems you will often be at Springvale, you may encounter Mr. Darcy again.”
In an attempt to appear nonchalant, I shrugged and reached for The London Chronicle, moving the newspaper closer to me. “Yes, I suppose that is true.”
“If you do meet him, I want you to speak well of me.”
I feigned interest in the newspaper, thus avoiding her gaze. “You must know I should never do otherwise.”
She inclined closer. “Yes, of course I do. But in particular, I should be obliged if you would offer complimentary remarks and make me sound likable and interesting, to ensure his favourable impression of me.”
My every inclination rebelled at her suggestion, though I could not have articulated the reason for my aversion. “You are a charming and attractive person—everyone can see that for themselves, including him. You do not need my recommendation.”
“Nevertheless, I want to use every possible advantage at my disposal.” Cassie touched my wrist. “Pray, promise you will do this for me.”
Good gracious, she left me little choice but to assent. I abandoned the newspaper and turned towards her. “Yes, if I see him and the opportunity arises, I shall praise you to the skies.”
“You are a darling!” Cassie rose to her feet, her complexion glowing. “Excuse me, I intend to call upon Dame Hayward. With any luck, I shall see Mr. Darcy then.” She smoothed the skirt of her gown. “Dear me, I must decide what to wear!” She darted from the room.
It seemed every morsel I had ingested had merged to form a leaden weight. Why did the concept of a romance between her and Mr. Darcy unnerve me? It must be due to my firm belief that she belonged with Mr. Stephen Ware.
Monday, 23 September
Springvale
Elizabeth
My pulse raged at a feverish pitch as Lily galloped across a long stretch of even ground, and we flew past the silver birches lining the path.
The increasing number of yellow leaves blended with the green ones on the trees in a vivid, varicoloured effect, while the wind acted as an invigorating force against my skin.
The thrill of riding at top speed never failed to improve my mood.
Birds must experience a similar exhilaration when soaring far above us earth-bound creatures.
At my left, Mr. Darcy restrained his ebony stallion to match our pace, though the steed tried to push ahead a couple of times. I slowed Lily to a walk before we reached the rocky portion of the path, and he ensured that Regal followed suit.
Each successive ride with Mr. Darcy had served to shed a bit more light upon his commendable character, and before we finished our second ride together, I had formed a strong preference for his distinct masculine voice. The time with him had always flown by, ending too soon for my liking.
Today, we spoke of literature. To my surprise, we admired many of the same authors and poets. We had a good-natured argument comparing the strengths and weaknesses of Shakespeare’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’, then moved on to critique ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.
In the past, I had enjoyed many similar discussions with Noah, Uncle Barton, Dame Hayward, and Mr. Rowe, but never with this effect upon me: a puzzling melding of satisfaction and yearning—for what, though, I could have provided no coherent answer.
My physical attraction to him could not fully explain this experience. Last year, I had met Dame Hayward’s visiting cousin, a blond male Adonis; I spoke to him on numerous occasions without experiencing the peculiar variety of verve that accompanied my conversations with Mr. Darcy.
Nevertheless, I did not lose sight of the fact that Lily would leave with him when he quit the area. At least now that I had a better grasp of his nature, I could take solace in the knowledge that she would be in the hands of a responsible man, a true horseman.
“Miss Bennet, pray wait a moment.” He brought Regal to a halt.
“Very well.” I stopped Lily.
Mr. Darcy dismounted and went a couple of yards ahead on the path. He crouched before what appeared to be a small, brownish creature.
“What is it?”
He sent me a quick glance. “A newt. I did not notice him when we passed earlier. The little beast seems to be distressed.” With gentle, painstaking care, he lifted the creature and carried it to me. “Would you like to see it?”
“Yes.” I leaned closer for a better look at the chocolate-coloured newt.
Mr. Darcy held the creature at an angle and revealed its underside, orange and mottled with black spots.
Oh dear. The poor thing appeared to be parched—not yet withered, but lifeless.
I ought to say as much, should I not? I gulped.
“It is a shame, but the newt appears to be…dead.”
“That is possible, but I hope not.” Mr. Darcy pointed to a trio of poplars. “I recall having seen a pond beyond those trees.”
“Indeed, there is a large horse pond. The newt could have come from there. Shall we proceed in that direction?”
“By all means.” He led the way with Regal walking beside him, and I followed on Lily.
At the verge of the pond, he set the distressed amphibian down.
Using a leaf, he scooped water from the pond and poured it over the newt.
After repeating the process several times, he stood and smiled at me.
“I detected movement in one of the hind legs, so I think the little beast will recover.”
“You saved him.” I grinned at Mr. Darcy. “Well done!”
His ears turned a shade darker. “I am pleased to have found the newt in time to be of use.”
“Do you make a habit of rescuing wild beasts?”
“I do not seek them out. However, my late father taught me to respect all creatures, wild or tame, and I should never knowingly allow one to suffer.”
“That is an admirable philosophy.” Would any other gentlemen of Mr. Darcy’s standing have bothered to assist a diminutive amphibian? “I had believed the newt to be beyond aid. Now I know better.”
Mr. Darcy mounted Regal, and we returned to the main path. His act of kindness inspired me to enquire whether he had any unusual pets in his youth.
“When I was nine or ten, I found an abandoned young red squirrel at Pemberley in the woods near the stables. The helpless creature could not have survived on its own. I brought her to our head groom, Sam, and asked for his help.”
He glanced at me, his magnetic irises glinting.
“Not only is Sam an expert horseman, but he is also well-versed in the care and behaviour of most other animals. He concocted a formula with goat’s milk and showed me how to care for the squirrel.
For the next month or so, I fed her every few hours, day and night, until she grew strong enough to be released. ”
“I am impressed that any boy of ten would be so dedicated to the welfare of a squirrel. In your place, I should have been loath to part with her.”
“In fact, that was a melancholy day for me, even though setting her free had always been my goal. Once I let her go, she scampered off without a backwards look and disappeared in a thicket. I returned to the spot where I had released her many times and left a handful of nuts and berries lest she had trouble finding sustenance on her own. The food always disappeared by the following day, but I never saw her again.”
In my mind’s eye, I conjured up a ten-year-old version of Mr. Darcy waiting in vain for a visit from his squirrel friend. My heart-strings constricted.