Chapter 15
TEN
Oakham Mount
Elizabeth
Elizabeth had not expected solitude during her walk that morning.
She had hoped, in fact, for the opposite, though she would not have admitted it to anyone, including herself.
When she reached the crest of the mount and found Darcy already there, seated upon the same fallen log on which she had found him before, looking out across the valley.
He turned at the sound of her approach and rose.
"Miss Elizabeth."
"Mr. Darcy." She nodded towards the log. "Pray, do not rise on my account."
He did so nevertheless, and only resumed his seat when she took her place beside him, to his right, though Elizabeth ensured there was sufficient distance between them for propriety's sake.
His countenance appeared improved from the previous day, though there remained a shadow beneath it.
"You appear more yourself this morning," Elizabeth said before she could stop herself.
He turned and grimaced slightly. "Do I?"
"You do." Elizabeth nodded. "Yesterday evening, you appeared troubled. Distracted, somehow."
His expression shifted into something faintly resembling a smile. "I received some news yesterday that was not entirely welcome." Elizabeth noticed he chose the words carefully. "The matter is already in hand."
Elizabeth nodded. She did not press him. He appeared to notice this, and something in him eased.
They looked out across the valley together.
"You enjoy the view," Elizabeth said at length.
"I did not know I should come to like Hertfordshire as much as I do," Darcy replied. He said it simply, without self-consciousness, as though it were merely a fact he had recently discovered.
Elizabeth regarded him with interest. "What do you find agreeable about it?"
He considered the question seriously. "It is unpretentious," he said. "The country does not announce itself. It simply is what it is, and one finds oneself pleasantly surprised by it."
"That is rather a fine description," Elizabeth said. "Though I confess I have never thought to describe it at all. It is simply home."
"That may be precisely why you have never needed to."
She glanced at him. "And Derbyshire? How does it compare?"
"Favourably," he said, with a gravity she was now fairly certain concealed amusement. "Though I admit I am not entirely impartial."
"No," she agreed. "I have observed that people rarely are where their home counties are concerned." She paused. "Georgiana speaks of Pemberley as though it were the finest place in England."
"It is the finest place in England."
Elizabeth laughed. "There it is."
"I stand by it."
"I am sure you do." She folded her hands in her lap. "She described it to me at some length yesterday. The grounds, the river, the library." She chuckled, remembering the smile on Georgiana’s face as she described it. "She spoke of the library at considerable length."
"Georgiana has good taste."
"She said the same of yours. That you read everything and remember most of it, and are insufferably well informed as a result."
Darcy looked at her. "She said that?"
"In rather more affectionate terms," Elizabeth admitted. "But that was the substance of it."
Something crossed his expression that was unmistakably fond. He turned his gaze back towards the valley.
"And you?" he asked after a moment. "What are your own interests, Miss Elizabeth? Beyond walking and being, as I have observed, exceptionally quick-witted."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Is that what you have observed?"
"Among other things."
She considered the question. "Books," she said. "I read a great deal. Not with Georgiana's thoroughness, I think, but widely. My father instilled the habit early and has been largely unable to reverse it since. He also taught me chess, which I enjoy a great deal more than I am perhaps supposed to."
"Why more than you are supposed to?"
"Because my younger sisters consider it incomprehensible and my mother considers it unbecoming.
I have also been scolded by her on more than one occasion that gentlemen do not care to be beaten at chess by a lady they are attempting to court.
" She smiled. "I have found this largely irrelevant, as I have yet to meet a gentleman I wished to lose to on purpose. "
Darcy regarded her with an expression she could not entirely interpret. "Your father did mention that we should have a game," he said.
Elizabeth's brows drew together. "Did he?"
"He suggested, when we spoke at Longbourn, that I might care to test my strategy upon some future occasion."
Elizabeth stared at him for a moment. Then she laughed. "He did not."
"He was quite specific about it."
"That," Elizabeth said, "is entirely characteristic of him, and I apologise on his behalf."
"I found it refreshing," Darcy smiled. "I have rarely been challenged to a game of chess within the first quarter hour of an acquaintance."
"He likes you," Elizabeth said, then found herself faintly surprised to have spoken so directly.
Darcy appeared equally surprised to hear it.
"I am glad of it," he said after a moment. "He is not a man whose good opinion one would willingly forgo."
They sat quietly for a moment. A farm cart trundled along the lane below them, unhurried in the morning distance. Somewhere behind them, a bird made its opinion of the cold known with remarkable persistence.
"What else did Georgiana tell you?" Darcy asked. "About Pemberley."
"A great deal," Elizabeth did not turn to face him. "The grounds particularly. She described the river and the walks beside it, and the kitchen garden, and a particular rose bed which apparently blooms in June and is, in her estimation, the finest sight in Derbyshire."
"She is not wrong about the rose bed."
"She also mentioned Lambton," Elizabeth said. "She was describing how you and she would sometimes visit the town, and I told her then that my aunt Gardiner was raised there. Mrs. Gardiner speaks of Lambton so often that I sometimes think I know the place myself."
Darcy turned towards her. She met his eyes. "Your aunt is from Lambton?"
"She is. She left when she was perhaps seventeen and has not returned since, though she speaks of doing so whenever the opportunity presents itself." Elizabeth smiled. "Georgiana was delighted. She said your housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, would remember the family."
"It is entirely possible," Darcy agreed. "Mrs. Reynolds has been at Pemberley longer than I have been alive and remembers everyone."
"Then I shall tell my aunt. She will be very pleased." Elizabeth paused. "Georgiana also mentioned that you have only one aunt."
"Lady Catherine de Bourgh," Darcy said. "Yes. She is... particular."
Elizabeth frowned briefly, then smiled.
Darcy looked at her. "What is it?"
"Nothing, only..." She pressed her lips together against a smile that was already forming without her permission. "Georgiana mentioned an Aunt Catherine in Kent entirely in passing. I gave it no thought at the time. I did not make the connection."
"Connection to what?" Darcy asked, looking genuinely puzzled.
"Well." Elizabeth was obliged to steady her features before replying.
"My cousin, Mr. Collins, is to visit Longbourn on Friday.
His letter informed us, at considerable length, that he is the rector of a parish at Hunsford in Kent, under the patronage of a Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park.
" She paused and smiled again. "I had not, until this precise moment, understood that to be the same Aunt Catherine Georgiana mentioned yesterday. "
Darcy's eyes widened.
Then he laughed.
The sound surprised Elizabeth enough that she nearly laughed herself.
"You are amused."
"I confess I am." He shook his head slightly. "Mr. Collins is your cousin?"
"He is."
Darcy laughed again and inclined his head in apology. "I beg your pardon. I have never met the gentleman myself, but my cousin Anne has mentioned him in her letters. She describes him as exceedingly devoted to my aunt. I believe he dines at Rosings with considerable frequency."
"'Exceedingly devoted' is a very charitable summary of his letter," Elizabeth said, laughing outright. "Mr. Collins appears to hold your aunt's opinions in the highest possible esteem."
Darcy's smile widened. "I confess I should very much like to meet the man."
"You are aware," Elizabeth said, composing herself, "that Georgiana is to call at Longbourn on Friday."
Darcy's eyes widened with sudden understanding. "Then we shall meet him?"
"If Mr. Collins proves as punctual as his letter suggests, you certainly shall."
Darcy regarded her with unmistakable amusement. "I find I am looking forward to it."
The morning lay quiet around them, and the valley stretched away in every direction, entirely unconcerned with Mr. Collins and his approaching visit.
"Friday," Darcy said at last, "promises to be a very interesting afternoon."
Elizabeth rose from the log not long afterwards.
"I ought to return. My family will soon be at breakfast, and my father may begin to suspect I have abandoned Hertfordshire altogether."
Darcy rose as well. "May I walk you to the bottom of the mount?"
Elizabeth considered him for a moment.
"You may, sir."
They set off down the path together, the conversation drifting naturally to other subjects, among them whether Hertfordshire lanes were best enjoyed in autumn or spring, a question upon which they found themselves capable of conversing pleasantly and at considerable length.
At the foot of the path they parted.
Elizabeth turned towards Longbourn. Darcy towards Netherfield.
She did not look back.
By the time she reached the lane leading home, however, she found herself smiling.
She saw no particular reason to stop. Mr. Darcy was a gentleman whose company she thoroughly enjoyed.