Eight
Oakham Mount
Elizabeth
Elizabeth Bennet could not have explained it, had anyone thought to ask, but she found that getting to know Mr. Darcy a little better had begun, somehow, to occupy rather more of her thoughts than a single morning's apology properly warranted.
It was nothing she could have named in particular.
She simply found herself, in the two days since, returning once or twice to some remark of his, or to the unexpected ease that had settled between them once the awkwardness of the apology had passed, and wondering, with an interest she told herself was merely curiosity, whether the gentleman she had met that morning was nearer the truth of him than the one she had watched stand silent and proud throughout the assembly.
She had gone out walking, as she generally did, wanting nothing more from the morning than her usual exercise and the quiet of her favourite path before the household was properly awake.
It was only as she came within sight of the hill that she saw him there again, and stopped, genuinely surprised, for she had not expected to see him again so soon.
He was standing in very nearly the same place she had left him, his hat in his hand rather than upon his head, and turned at the sound of her approach with an expression that suggested he had not entirely expected her either.
"Good morning, Mr. Darcy." She stopped a little distance off, unable to keep the amusement entirely from her voice. "It appears you have taken rather a fondness to this particular view."
"I might say the same of you, Miss Bennet." He inclined his head, and she thought she caught something almost sheepish in the gesture. "Though I confess I had told myself I came for the exercise, and had not considered how thin an excuse that might sound, finding myself here again so soon."
"I shall not accuse you of anything so improper as design, sir.
Oakham Mount is generally considered public enough ground for two people to happen upon it by accident twice.
" Elizabeth came nearer, finding she had no wish to stand at a distance and shout their conversation across the grass.
"Though I own I am a little disappointed.
I had rather fancied myself the sole proprietor of this hill before Wednesday. "
"I am sorry to have trespassed upon your claim."
"You may be forgiven this once. Repeated offences may oblige us to come to terms."
"Then I shall hope the terms are not too severe."
He considered her a moment, and something in his face eased, as though he had decided, in that small pause, to allow the conversation to be easy rather than guarded.
"I will admit," he said, "that the conversation has proved no small inducement."
Elizabeth laughed.
"I am delighted to hear it, for I had rather concluded conversation was an accomplishment you held in very little esteem."
"I fear I gave Meryton ample reason to form that opinion at the assembly."
"You did."
"I hope I have since improved upon it."
"You have improved it considerably with me. I cannot answer for the rest of Meryton."
The answer appeared to please him more than she had intended, though he merely inclined his head. A moment later, as naturally as though neither had thought to question it, they continued along the ridge together rather than descend by the paths from which they had come.
"I had expected to find your horse tethered below," Elizabeth observed, for want of another subject.
Darcy nodded. "I thought I would walk instead. I am told it is excellent for the constitution."
"It is my favourite exercise."
"I begin to understand why. Many ladies think of walking only when there is company to admire them."
Elizabeth laughed softly. "I assure you, sir, there is seldom anyone upon Oakham Mount to admire me."
"Then I imagine you are spared a great deal of inconvenience."
"I believe I am."
They continued slowly along the crest before Elizabeth spoke again.
"What do you make of our little corner of Hertfordshire, now you have had a fortnight to judge it properly?" she asked at length. "I confess I am curious whether it meets with a Derbyshire gentleman's approval."
"It is pleasant country. Gentler than what I am accustomed to, though I do not say that as a complaint." He glanced about them as though seeing it afresh. "Derbyshire is wilder in its prospects. More hill than field, in the parts I know best. This is prettier in a quieter way."
"You make it sound as though you are choosing your words very carefully, sir, for fear of offending either county."
"I had not thought myself so transparent."
"I fear you are."
Something very like a smile appeared. "Then I shall confess, without diplomacy, that I have grown rather attached to this part of Hertfordshire."
"Only this hill?"
"I cannot yet claim acquaintance with enough of the county to speak more generally."
She laughed again. "A prudent answer."
"You are beginning to make me value prudence more highly than I once did."
"I cannot imagine you have ever been imprudent."
His expression altered almost imperceptibly.
"On the contrary, Miss Bennet, I have been imprudent more than once."
She looked at him in surprise, wondering whether he referred to the assembly or to something else entirely, but before she could ask, he continued, "Have you been to Derbyshire at all?"
"Not at all. My aunt has spoken of it, as she grew up in Lambton, but that is about the sum of all I know of the county."
"Lambton." Something in Darcy's expression sharpened with interest. "That is no great distance from Pemberley. I did not know you had connexions so near."
"My aunt Gardiner. She is married to my mother's brother, though she was raised in Derbyshire herself, before her marriage.
" Elizabeth smiled at the thought. "She and my uncle live in London now, in Gracechurch Street, but she speaks of Lambton still as though she left only last week rather than a dozen years ago. "
"Lambton is a small enough place that I may very well know your aunt, though I could only say for certain if I were to meet her. My family has held land in that neighbourhood all my life."
"If I knew her father's name, I might be of some assistance. The truth is, I have never thought to ask." She smiled at her own oversight. "She has been simply my Aunt Gardiner for as long as I can remember, and I never once thought to wonder what she was called before she became so."
"That is no great fault. Very few people trouble themselves to wonder what their aunts were before they became their aunts." Something almost like a smile touched his mouth. "Though I confess you have made me curious. I may very well have known her when she was younger."
"I shall have to write and ask her, now you have made me curious as well." Elizabeth glanced at him, amused. "Though I confess I did not expect a discussion on my aunt to occupy so much of our walk."
"Nor did I. Yet I cannot regret it."
Elizabeth found herself smiling. It occurred to her that Mr. Darcy's interest was not merely politeness. For a gentleman who had scarcely spoken to anyone at the Meryton assembly, he seemed remarkably willing to prolong a conversation once it had begun.
He was quiet for a moment before beginning again. "Your father mentioned, when he called at Netherfield, that he spends much of his time reading. Is that a taste you share?"
"He does not exaggerate." Elizabeth laughed.
"Books have always been something of a refuge in our house, and Papa's library the only room into which five daughters and a great deal of noise cannot always follow him.
I have had the good fortune to inherit the taste, and, according to my mother, rather too much of it. "
"I cannot think that a misfortune."
"You would not say so, I think, had you ever attempted to draw me from a book before I had finished it. Jane has long since abandoned the effort. She simply waits until I emerge of my own accord."
"I suspect Miss Bennet possesses great wisdom."
"She does."
They continued slowly along the ridge without speaking, yet the silence no longer required either of them to fill it.
The morning had grown warmer as the sun climbed above the eastern horizon, the last wisps of mist lifting from the fields below until Hertfordshire stretched before them in quiet familiarity.
Elizabeth had stood upon Oakham Mount more times than she could count, yet she found herself looking over the countryside with renewed appreciation, as though good company had altered the prospect as much as the morning light.
By degrees they reached the place where the path began its descent and, by silent agreement, came to a halt.
"I ought to return," Elizabeth said at last. "I fear I have been absent rather longer than I intended."
"Then I shall not keep you longer."
"You have kept me no longer than I was content to remain."
She smiled as she said it, then immediately wondered whether the admission had been wiser left unspoken.
Darcy's expression softened. "I am glad to hear it."
For a moment neither moved.
At last, Elizabeth curtsied. "Good day, Mr. Darcy."
"Good day, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth had gone several yards down the path before she looked back.
Mr. Darcy had not yet begun his own descent.
He stood where the ridge gave way to the hillside, looking out over the valley below.
Whether he had heard her turn she could not tell, but, as though prompted by some instinct, he glanced in her direction and inclined his head.
She returned the gesture before continuing towards Longbourn.
Their conversation lingered pleasantly in her thoughts all the way home.
They had spoken of little consequence, of counties and books and forgotten maiden names, yet she found she preferred this quieter Mr. Darcy to the gentleman she had first met at Meryton.
She could not yet say she understood him, but she found herself wishing to do so.