Chapter 4

Attempting to prove to himself that Miss Elizabeth had no hold on him, Darcy had called at the parsonage the next day. He had found her alone, Mrs Collins and Miss Lucas having gone into the village. The visit had almost been a disaster. They had spoken of the roads and how easy a distance fifty miles was, and he had almost proposed! The words were on the tip of his tongue. He blamed the thought of her always remaining at Longbourn, withering to nothingness, her wit and the joy she radiated as the sun did light, fading away. He could rescue her from such a fate.

Fortunately, Mrs Collins had returned before he completely lost himself, and he had fled the house.

The following morning, he and Fitzwilliam were riding when they encountered her taking a walk. After exchanging a few pleasantries, they continued their separate excursions. Surreptitiously watching her go, the gentle swaying of her skirt and curls, Darcy experienced a sense of longing so strong he could not breathe for a moment. It was almost as if she took a part of him with her.

“She is an agreeable young woman,” Fitzwilliam said warmly, forcing Darcy’s attention back to him.

“As I believe you have said many times this past week. Since I have not disagreed, I do not understand the need to repeat yourself.” He tapped his horse’s side and began to trot, his cousin keeping pace.

“I suppose it is because I had no notion we would have such good company during our stay, or any, really.” Fitzwilliam sighed. “If only I could meet a lady like her but…better. You know what I mean. More suited to my needs.”

Darcy tightened his grip on the reins.

“Not that I have even the inkling of those sorts of feelings for her,” Fitzwilliam continued. “If I was worried about my heart, I would have left you here rather than risk injuring either her or myself. For her sake, I hope she meets a decent man who can give her a good life. It will be difficult, given her lack of dowry. What is her family like?”

There was a slight pause before he answered. He could give her the life she deserved, one far beyond any she likely had ever expected. He was rich enough that it would not matter all that much that she brought nothing to their marriage. But then there was her family. “I can say nothing good about the mother and younger sisters, though the older sister knows how to comport herself properly. Mr Bennet is negligent, despite his intelligence.” A wave of hopelessness almost brought tears to his eyes. How could he ever entertain the thought of marrying a lady with such relations? “Let us speak of something else. Anything other than people so wholly unconnected to us.”

“Mr Darcy,” Miss Elizabeth said, dropping into a curtsey.

He did not return the greeting, lost in the sight of her lean figure framed by the brilliant blue sky. He had hoped to meet her that morning and had quietly left Rosings early to avoid his family, especially Fitzwilliam, who would have joined him without questioning whether he was intruding.

But I need to be with her alone! The reason I remained beyond my original intention was to exorcise her from my mind, and I can hardly do that if we are always in company with others.

If he had other motives for staying in the neighbourhood, he chose not to recall them—especially at present. She was such a tempting vision. If he did not keep tight control of his actions, he would gather her into his arms and promise her whatever she desired.

“I shall leave you to—” she said, half-turned to the path she had just taken.

“No!” Darcy gave a small cough in an attempt to moderate the urgency in his voice. “Th-that is, good morning, Miss Elizabeth. I trust you are well. You were headed towards the stream? That is a fine idea. Shall we?” He extended a hand, indicating the direction they must go.

She regarded him for a moment before giving him a brief smile and beginning to walk. The lane was wide enough to allow them to remain beside each other.

“Are you enjoying your visit with Mrs Collins?” he asked.

“I am. She is satisfied with her new life, and I am pleased for her.”

Miss Elizabeth’s voice was tight, and he wondered if she entirely meant it. She could not rejoice to know her friend was married to a fool.

“What think you of the neighbourhood? Do you find it very different from that about Longbourn?”

Her brow furrowed, and she glanced at him. “Not particularly. As you noted the other day, the two are only fifty miles of good road apart. Nevertheless, the environs are pretty and make a pleasant setting for my exercise.”

“From early in our acquaintance, I had the impression that you liked to be out of doors as often as possible.”

She gave a short laugh. “Ah, yes. Miss Bingley remarked several times that I am a great walker. Have you seen much of her in London?”

Hearing what he thought was sharpness in her tone, he looked at her, but then decided it was nothing. “Not frequently, no. You would enjoy exploring new places, ones with greater variety. The north—such as near my estate in Derbyshire—would interest you. I suppose you have read about the Lakes and Scotland and more. Would you like to see them yourself?”

Her response was slow in coming. “I have, yes, and I would. Whether I ever shall have that privilege, who is to say?”

I am. He was glad she appreciated the difficulty of his position, because of course what she was truly asking was whether he would ever be able to propose and take her, his beloved wife, on trips to such regions.

“I do customarily walk every morning at about this hour,” she continued. “This path, and the one through the copse, are particular favourites.” She pointed to the left, which Darcy took as her showing him which nearby woods she had been referring to. He knew the one as surely as he knew her true purpose in supplying the information. She was telling him when and where he might find her; she was inviting him to join her! His heart sang, and he felt like he was floating several inches above the ground.

They spoke about travel books for a short while, which brought them back to her stay in the neighbourhood.

“As I said earlier, if I could go to more of the places I have read about, I would be well pleased,” Miss Elizabeth said. “For now, I content myself with being here, just as I am happy when I am in London with my uncle and aunt and little cousins. Sometimes a change is good for one, even if the change is not…spectacular. You might not appreciate it as much as I do, since I imagine you travel frequently, to stay with friends and family, if nothing else.”

“That is true, though I much prefer being at Pemberley or my town house. Yet, I have obligations, such as coming here.” Briefly, Darcy considered that, if she was his wife, she would stay at the manor, which would make the prospect of such sojourns far less daunting. “You would find it agreeable to stay near the parsonage. You might spend time with Mrs Collins.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I was thinking of Rosings,” he said, still half lost in his day-dream and what the future might bring. “My aunt should not have suggested you go to Mrs Jenkinson’s chamber to practise the pianoforte. If you wish more time at the instrument, I would ensure it was in a more comfortable room. But I suppose you will depart soon enough, and it will not matter this year. Beside the instrument in the drawing room, there should still be one in the old music room.”

He paused. “I am certain there was yet another. Whenever she could, my mother played the pianoforte for hours every day, and I know she passed a great deal of our time here in that pursuit. She liked little better than music, and as a boy, I would sit with her. It was near the guest chambers, I believe. We shall need to search for it, perhaps make it a room for your use alone.”

Miss Elizabeth stumbled over her words, which was unlike her. It drew his attention, allowing him to shake off his reflective mood. He realised he was not entirely sure what he had said, and sought clues in her speech.

“I assure you, sir, I took no affront to Lady Catherine’s offer. I am aware that I do not practise the pianoforte as much as I should, but I am content to occupy my time while in the neighbourhood on other activities, especially being with Charlotte. She is why I am here, after all.”

“Naturally.” That afternoon, he would seek out the other instruments—just out of curiosity. With the question in his mind, he was interested to see where they were placed, and if those rooms needed refreshing in anticipation of someone wishing to use them. Georgiana might, and there was always the possibility that Miss Elizabeth…

As they continued to walk in silence for a while, Darcy observed her, relishing the peace that came with being near her. They had long since reached the stream and presently were on another path that would soon see them go in opposite directions, him to Rosings manor and her the parsonage. Another day, he might go with her to call on the Collinses, but as much as he wanted the additional time with Miss Elizabeth, he required a period alone to review the many thoughts racing through his mind.

Yet, since they still had several minutes together, he should not waste the opportunity to understand her better, to determine how well she might fit into his life. “Have you attended many concerts or the theatre? I am aware there are occasionally performances in Meryton, but they cannot compare to those in London or a more significant town.”

“That might be true, but I have greatly enjoyed those I have seen, and I am grateful for the effort expended to make them diverting. Why do you not tell me about your favourite performances, sir?”

Darcy was a little surprised by her question, but supposed she might like to know more about him. After all, she was hoping, perhaps increasingly expecting, him to make her an offer of marriage, especially after this morning. He took a moment to consider what would be most instructive before answering.