9. Quizzing the Colonel #2
Richard noted her gaze and shrugged. “He will be the perfect cousin and gentleman. Responsible and protective. A marked improvement over the…” he cleared his throat to avoid the mention of Mr. Collins, “what I mean is you need not fear that he has designs on any of your sisters. He will marry well because that is what his parents wished for him. Whilst our mutual aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and his dear mother matched him with Anne de Bourgh, his father has higher aims than a daughter of a baronet, even if she comes with her own estate.”
“A young lady comes with an estate?” Elizabeth’s hands stopped, still wrapped around a thick strand of ivy. “But wouldn’t it be entailed to the nearest male relation?”
“Not Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s Rosings Park.” Here, Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared to warm to the idea of sharing what he knew. “The de Bourgh entail includes females, and hence if Anne were to marry Darcy, they would hold Rosings Park and Pemberley.”
“As well as Longbourn,” Elizabeth grumbled. “Life is truly unfair.”
“I concur.” Richard nodded sympathetically.
“As a second son with no estate, no entail, and nothing but my commission and whatever charm I can muster, I understand what it is to have uncertain prospects. Darcy does not. He has never had to wonder where his next quarter’s income would come from, or whether he would have a roof over his head in his old age.
He cannot imagine it, and so he cannot understand why others might resent his certainty. ”
They reached the heart of the wood, where oaks crowded together and mistletoe dangled from bare branches.
Lydia was halfway up a tree, Mary quoted scripture about pride to no one in particular, and Jane wandered off toward the ivy, her expression so distant that Elizabeth wondered—again—what went on in her sister’s head.
And Darcy—
Darcy’s gaze caught hers, and Elizabeth felt a hot flush of humiliation. Of course he had no intention of marrying any Bennet girl when three estates might be his for the taking. The mortification was exquisite.
“Come now, Miss Elizabeth.” Colonel Fitzwilliam unwrapped the ivy that had twisted entirely too tightly around her wrists. “Do not fret yourself about my cousin’s motivations. I suspect he shall tire of this project in due time. My mother is holding a grand Yuletide celebration at Matlock Park.”
A howl from the direction of the frozen duck pond cut through the air.
“Lydia! Stop pushing me,” Kitty shouted, her arms flailing as Lydia shoved her onto the groaning ice.
“Is the ice holding?” Lydia asked as Kitty slipped and fell on her behind. “Is it? Because I should like to skate across it.”
“You don’t have skates,” Mary surmised, setting her basket down. “As the Psalmist observed, ‘My feet were almost gone; my steps had well nigh slipped.’”
“Someone help me!” Kitty was unable to right herself, her feet slipping out every time she tried to stand and walk.
Colonel Fitzwilliam dropped the basket and shears. He reached the pond and gracefully took long sliding strides toward Kitty. He helped her to her feet, and together, they shuffled around the pond without the benefit of blades.
Soon, Lydia and even Mary took tentative steps on the ice, walking and sliding, and Darcy helped Jane, who smiled at him most sweetly when she slipped, and he caught her without any dramatics—just firmly and without fanfare.
“The trick is to trust the surface, Miss Bennet, and glide rather than step.” He sounded almost gallant. Incredible.
Jane’s cheeks were rosy as her fingers closed around Darcy’s, her face happier than Elizabeth had seen since being jilted by Bingley—because that was exactly the verdict laid down by the likes of Mrs. Long, Lady Lucas, and Mrs. Goulding.
That a country miss with no dowry aspired to the son of a tradesman who had leased the only grand house in Hertfordshire.
What would they say when Darcy inevitably left, wounding Jane’s heart again?
Elizabeth’s hands curled into fists as she watched her sister laugh and frolic on the ice. The whole affair was not only unfair but untenable. She would have to speak to her father about this.
“Miss Elizabeth, you should try.” Somehow Richard appeared in front of her, extending his hand. “It is quite exhilarating. Even Jane is enjoying herself.”
“I can see that, although Lydia and Kitty seem to be in considerable distress.” She nodded toward Lydia, who had just collided with Kitty and sent them both sprawling.
“Distress and delight are often difficult to distinguish in the young.” Richard’s eyes sparkled. “Come. I promise to catch you if you fall.”
“That is precisely what I am afraid of.” But since Darcy enjoyed himself with Jane, Elizabeth would not be left on the bank like a wallflower. She took a deep breath and stepped boldly onto the frozen pond.
The ice was slicker than she had expected, but it wasn’t as hard as it appeared.
She soon found herself taking half-steps and slides while Lydia spun on her toes and Kitty kept falling but getting up just the same.
Emboldened, Elizabeth tried to overtake Jane and Darcy, who glided serenely along the edge.
The ice made a suspicious sound like a plucked string, and Elizabeth felt it wobble.
She tried to retreat, but her feet went out from underneath her, her arms swinging when a firm hand caught her.
“I’ve got you, Miss Elizabeth.” It was Darcy, his voice close and intimate. “Small steps, and stay away from the reeds; thin ice near the side where the sun hits.”
Elizabeth longed to pull away, to deliver a sharp retort about not requiring his assistance. But her feet were sliding, and his grip remained steady, and she found, to her considerable irritation, that she did not wish to fall.
And before she could formulate an appropriate response, she noticed a small shape at the edge of the pond, half-hidden in the dead reeds.
“Something is over there.” She pointed, stepping off the ice and onto solid ground. “Where the thin ice was.”
Her boots crunched over the frozen ground, and she found a rabbit caught in a snare. Its hind leg was bloody, the wire loop cutting into flesh as it struggled.
“Oh, you poor thing.” She knelt in the frozen mud, reaching for it with gentle hands. “Hold still. I’m trying to help.”
The animal stared at her with unblinking eyes, its breath shallow and rapid. And then Darcy knelt beside her, already working at the snare. Gently, he unwound the wire from the rabbit’s leg while murmuring soft, comforting words.
Elizabeth was aghast that such a proud, reserved man would be speaking to an animal.
As if sensing her amazement, Darcy explained, “Georgiana, my sister, is forever finding pitiable creatures in need of rescue.”
He freed the rabbit and examined its leg, damaged but not broken. The animal did not kick or struggle, but lay still as Darcy pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began binding the wound.
“Your sister sounds kind. Tell me about her. What is she like?”
Darcy calmed the rabbit by stroking its head.
“Georgiana is twelve years younger than me, orphaned too early. She is shy and reserved. People mistake it for coldness, but it is only caution. She plays the pianoforte beautifully and reads too much, loves novels more than philosophy. She cries over injured rabbits and abandoned kittens and any creature that seems to need protecting.”
“She sounds lovely.” Elizabeth felt at a loss for words at the tenderness in Darcy’s tone regarding his sister.
“She is.” He finished binding the rabbit’s leg and sat back on his heels. “She would like you, I think. You would terrify her at first—you terrify most people—but she would like you.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows arched. “I terrify people? Good heavens, Mr. Darcy, I am merely a country miss of no particular stature.”
“Who carries a sharp intellect.” He looked at her, and the speculation in his expression made her breath catch. “Most people prefer not to be challenged. But Georgiana, I believe, would thrive with the lively debate of opinions and attitudes.”
“Like you?” The words escaped before she could bite her tongue.
“Yes, like me.” His gaze was deliberate, seeing through her. “Although being hated by a woman I regard can be quite challenging.”
“I don’t… I mean, that was anger that I had no right to, Mr. Darcy.
You are within your rights to befriend my father and offer to improve his daughters.
I now understand that your interest in Longbourn is solely a responsibility you are preparing for, even though my father might yet live another twenty years. ”
“I wonder…” His gaze dropped to the cradled rabbit. “If that was my sole purpose to come to Longbourn. What do you suppose, Miss Elizabeth?”
The answer surfaced unbidden, and she drowned it before it could take shape.
“The rabbit will need tending,” she said, and did not look at him as she stood. “We can take him to the bootroom.”