5

The next morning, Lady Anne Darcy waited upon Mrs. Bennet at the appointed hour, with four eager gentlemen in tow. Mr. Bingley apologised for his sisters’ absence, as they had not yet awakened when he set out for Longbourn, but Elizabeth was only relieved; those two ladies had not made a favourable impression on her at the assembly.

Jane was more favourably disposed toward Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst; she prettily expressed her regrets at their absence, which Elizabeth noticed evoked a look of mild surprise in Lady Anne. When Mrs. Bennet took this opportunity to loudly praise the elegance and fashion of Mr. Bingley’s sisters, Lady Anne drew back from the conversation, and Elizabeth resolved to come to her rescue.

After serving the tea, Elizabeth seated herself beside Lady Anne. “It is our custom to speak with great animation of our impressions and pleasures on the morning after an assembly, though Papa often wonders that we have the energy to do so after such exertions the night before. You find us quite in our element this morning.”

Lady Anne sipped her tea and offered a polite smile. “Your family was most welcoming to our party. Such enthusiasm must endear you to all your neighbours, for I have heard the Bennets spoken well of by many of the other local families.”

“That is kind of you,” Elizabeth replied. “We are a family of disparate dispositions amongst ourselves, though we all share a fondness for society and conversation. My mother and youngest sisters will not soon exhaust their raptures over the finery they beheld last night and who danced with whom, while Mary would rather speak of the music played, and how it inspires her own tastes and endeavours. Jane will happily hear whatever the rest of us wish to say, and contribute naught but good; with Jane to guide us to speaking only well of everyone and everything, I cannot wonder that our neighbours should be satisfied.”

“And what is your usual contribution to such discussion?”

Elizabeth grinned. “I have confessed already that I am the impertinent one. I impart all the follies and foibles I have observed and laugh at them, generally until I am no longer vexed by the want of agreeable partners. That is not the case on this occasion, and I am very glad of it.”

“With so many new acquaintance to observe, you must have more to say than usual, if it is your habit to impart your irreverent impressions,” Lady Anne said wryly.

Elizabeth was surprised at Lady Anne’s playful tone, for Captain Darcy had led her to expect his mother would be more reticent. “Shall you like to hear one of them? I have by no means exhausted myself.” She glanced over at Captain Darcy, who had positioned himself apart from the others, gazing out a window. She could see his reflection in the glass, and his eyes were fixed on her – she suspected he was listening to discover if she would reveal his insult, but Elizabeth had no wish to distress Lady Anne, nor to belabour the forgiven offence.

Instead, Elizabeth chose something she suspected was safer. “I wonder that Mr. Bingley’s sisters did not wake as early as the gentlemen this morning, for they danced far less – I must suppose that it is their displeasure with the evening that has fatigued them.” Her lips twisted into a grin, and Elizabeth watched in satisfaction as Lady Anne’s eyes lit.

“I feared it would be thus. They prefer London to the country, though one is married to a landed gentleman and the other aspires to the same.” Lady Anne looked as if she may venture some criticism, but only added, “I accompanied my sons because I missed Fitzwilliam terribly when he was at sea; generally I am of the opinion that the mistress of an estate, especially a large one, ought to spend most of her time at her estate. Pray, what is your view?”

Elizabeth sensed that Lady Anne wished to test her; happily, she was in complete agreement. “My view is much like your own. While I always enjoy myself when I have the good fortune to spend time in London, that is chiefly because of my affection for my aunt and uncle who reside in Cheapside. Their society is always a delight to me, but there are a great many pleasures to be had here at home as well; I am as fond of attending to our tenants as I am of taking long rambles about the countryside. Indeed, I often bring a novel and wander until I find a suitably scenic spot to sit and read.”

Her answer was as provoking as the question, and Elizabeth waited with a smile to see if Lady Anne would object to the mention of relations in Cheapside, her love of novels, or the unladylike occupation of solitary walks. It was Captain Darcy who spoke next, however. He turned to them and asked, “You do not find the society in the country somewhat confined and unvarying?”

Mrs. Bennet had been occupied in promoting her favourite daughters to the other gentlemen, but she turned now with a grimace for Captain Darcy. “Confined and unvarying? Indeed it is not, sir. We dine with four and twenty families!”

Elizabeth resisted the urge to shake her head at her mother’s intrusion in their conversation, and said, “I find that is quite enough society to please even somebody as fond of society as myself. People themselves alter so much that there is something new to be observed in them forever.”

Jane looked up with mild alarm, glancing between Elizabeth, Captain Darcy, and Mrs. Bennet before settling her gaze on Mr. Bingley, who was seated beside her on the settee. “But we are very glad to have so many new additions to the neighbourhood, and I daresay you shall find all of Meryton very welcoming.”

“I have been convinced of it since last evening – what a pleasant assembly,” Mr. Bingley cried.

Mrs. Bennet gave Captain Darcy one more scowl before bestowing her compliments on Mr. Bingley. “That is very good of you, sir. I am sure you shall make a very charming neighbour! If you are fonder than your friend of the country, I daresay you shall be perfectly happy here!”

Mr. Bingley smiled at Jane as he answered Mrs. Bennet. “When I am in the country, I never wish to leave it; when I am in Town, it is much the same. They each have their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.”

“You have the most amiable disposition,” Mrs. Bennet fawned. “Your friend seems to think the country nothing at all.”

“Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken,” Elizabeth said. “I am sure he only meant to say that there is not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in Town, which you must acknowledge to be true. For us it is an advantage, as it is easier to be more intimately acquainted with such a circle as our little neighbourhood affords, while in Town one is more often meeting new acquaintance. I quite agree with Mr. Bingley that each have their advantages; we need not disdain one to appreciate the other. As Captain Darcy was raised on a country estate, I daresay he knows this very well.”

“Precisely,” Captain Darcy agreed with a nod of his head. “In spending too much time in the country, one may miss the benefits of Town; I might just as easily posit the reverse.”

Mrs. Bennet tutted but begrudgingly agreed with him and resumed putting Kitty and Lydia forward with Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Captain Darcy stepped closer to the chaise lounge, and softly said, “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Yes, that was very well done of you, my dear,” Lady Anne said, briefly resting her hand atop Elizabeth’s. “You may like to style yourself as the impudent sister, but it seems to me that you are the diplomat of the family.”

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, bestowing her look of mirth on Lady Anne and then Captain Darcy. “It is entirely possible to be both, I assure you.”

“You blend the two styles quite effortlessly,” Captain Darcy said. “Just as I do the opposite, pairing reticence with offence.”

Lady Anne gave a little gasp. “Fitzwilliam, that is no way to recommend yourself to a young lady!”

“And you provoke me to observe that you had quite a great deal to say last evening,” Elizabeth said archly. She had no intention of informing Lady Anne of Captain Darcy’s insult, but she had no qualms with teasing him about it as often as she chose.

“You are not formed for ill humour; I am not afraid of you,” he quipped, calling her bluff.

Lady Anne now observed the easy banter between them with a tranquil smile before saying, “I have never seen my Fitzwilliam so easy and conversant amongst strangers. It seems gregarious companions suit you well.”

“Once again we are in complete agreement,” Elizabeth said. “Jane is more reserved than I, and we temper one another perfectly. I daresay every Jane needs a Lizzy, and every Lizzy needs a Jane. It must be the same for Captain Darcy and Mr. Bingley – or Olly.”

“My husband would heartily agree with you, Miss Elizabeth,” Lady Anne said. “Like Fitzwilliam and Georgiana, Mr. Darcy is often silent and serious in company, though his younger sister Lady Russell is fond of a good party.”

“I must ask,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “Was Captain Darcy silent and serious as a child? My sisters certainly were not, and my young cousins are all entirely composed of rowdy noise. I had thought that all children must be boisterous.”

Captain Darcy blushed furiously, but Lady Anne smiled warmly. “Oh my, he was the most droll little chap you could imagine. Marcus was a wild beast, always covered in mud, wild hair, shouting and giving commands like a little lord. But Fitzwilliam was so very ponderous. He would consider his words so carefully before speaking, and when he was quite small he had the most charming habit of pursing his lips with just the tip of his tongue curling out, just so.” She demonstrated what she meant, and laughed gently at herself.

Elizabeth gazed up at the handsome man before her, imagining him not quite as a child, but more of a miniature adult. “I should have liked to see that,” she laughed.

“I can show you something of his youthful stoicism.” Lady Anne lifted up the locket that hung from a long gold chain about her neck. She opened a tiny filigree clasp, and displayed two tiny portraits that had been painted on ivory inlay. One must have been the elder brother, with unruly blond curls and a confident smile. The other was just what Elizabeth might have expected of Captain Darcy at the age of perhaps seven or eight. His curly hair was darker then, before so much time in the sun had evidently lightened it a shade, and his expression was more dignified than most adults of her acquaintance.

“My goodness, he looks like some regal boy king with the weight of the world upon his shoulders,” Elizabeth said.

Captain Darcy brought one hand to his face as if to hide. “I beg you would not mention that to Olly, else I shall never cease hearing of it.”

“Certainly not! I thought we had agreed that it is for us to make mischief upon him,” Elizabeth replied.

“Richard and young George Wickham have never had much success in tempting Fitzwilliam to mischief, but then they are not half so pretty as you, Miss Elizabeth,” Lady Anne said, looking between them with a twinkle in her eye.

Elizabeth could see that this had embarrassed Captain Darcy, and her cheeks began to feel rather warm. Fortunately they were interrupted; Mrs. Bennet was urging them all out of doors. “The almanack predicts a mild autumn, but one never knows – there may not be many warm days before us, and you young people do like to get about,” she cried.

Jane suggested a walk in the gardens, to which Mr. Bingley readily agreed, but Lydia and Kitty wished to walk into Meryton. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were willing to attend them thither, and the Colonel entreated Captain Darcy to join them.

“It is always a right thing to patronise the principal establishments of the village,” said Mr. Darcy. “Spend a few shillings at the shops and the favourable impression you made last night will be quite fixed, Bingley. You ought to do the same when you go to Rosings, Will.”

“I could not agree more,” Captain Darcy said.

“Is Meryton a frequent destination of yours, on your rambles?” Lady Anne asked Elizabeth.

“When my sisters prevail upon me to join them,” Elizabeth said. “Generally I prefer more scenic destinations, such as Oakham Mount.”

“Might we not attend both?” Captain Darcy moved around the chaise lounge to offer Elizabeth his arm.

“Oh, do go,” Lady Anne urged her. “I shall take your advice, and speak to your mother about fabric.”

“And make a friend for life,” Elizabeth reminded her.

“Exactly so.” Elizabeth turned her smile from Lady Anne to Captain Darcy, who was extending his arm to her. She readily accepted it, feeling a sudden rush of excitement at his eagerness to please her, and his mother’s obvious approbation.

“Shall you bring along any reading material on this ramble through the countryside?” He gave a little incline of his head, as good as admitting that he had indeed been listening to her speak to Lady Anne.

Elizabeth was struck with a sudden, wicked notion, and replied, “In fact, I can think of some reading material that would divert us very well – I have essentially been challenged to tempt you to mischief, and I should hate to be found wanting.”

Lady Anne’s brows rose, Captain Darcy blushed at her teasing, and Elizabeth grinned brightly.

***

Elizabeth stepped into her father’s book room for a few minutes as the rest of their group of young people made ready to walk out together, and then the five ladies and four gentlemen set out together. Richard led the way, the happy recipient of two Bennet sisters’ favour. The youngest of the brood held fast to one of his arms, speaking energetically and batting her eyelashes, while the rather serious middle sister held his other arm and looked as if she desperately wished to converse with such ease, but knew not how.

Bingley followed with the serene eldest sister, alongside Marcus and a sister Darcy was fairly sure was called Catherine. Darcy and Elizabeth walked behind them, and he kept their pace slow enough that they soon lagged behind the rest of their party. He was more at ease with Elizabeth than he could be amongst the rest of her relations, and he had no wish to be teased by his companions should they choose to accompany him and Elizabeth, and detect his preference. It was probably inevitable, but he would delay it as long as he could, and simply savour her effervescence.

They spoke idly of Hertfordshire and the environs of Meryton, and when they reached a fork in the road, Elizabeth gave his arm a gentle tug to signal they would not be taking the same path toward the village as their companions. “I should like to show you Oakham Mount; it is the most scenic spot in the area, and one of my favourite walks.”

“I shall defer to your discernment,” Darcy agreed.

They walked on in silence, and Darcy gazed appreciatively at the scenery around them. Many of the trees already bore autumnal reds and golds, the varying shades offering a pleasing pastoral view. A cool wind blew through the grove, and small orange leaves began to rain down on them. Elizabeth tipped her face upward with a look of wonderment and let out a contented hum before turning to look at Darcy. He was sure his countenance must betray his enchantment at the sight before him, but he did not endeavour to conceal it.

“I hope your mother did not suppose I meant only to agree with her, when I stated my preference for the country,” Elizabeth said with a smirk. “I truly adore this view, even if I have seen it a hundred times.”

The red ribbon of her bonnet curled around her face and flickered with the wind; without thinking, Darcy reached up and moved it aside, his gloved finger brushing her cheek. Suddenly embarrassed, he looked away and answered, “You spoke very well; nobody could doubt your sincerity. I fear I was not so successful with your mother. I believe she thought me quite rude.”

“You meant no offence, and said nothing that was not true. Life in the country can, at times, lack the diversions that amuse me.”

“And so you bring books on your walks, and seek your adventures that way,” Darcy suggested.

“Not all of us can sail away and experience a wider view of the world directly,” she replied.

Darcy gazed intently at her. “And would you, if you could?”

Elizabeth twisted one corner of her mouth as if carefully considering before she answered him. “‘Tis a romantic notion, but I have heard too much of the reality of it from Olly. It seems to me that piracy offers more freedom than service in His Majesty’s Navy, though both are fraught with hardship and danger, which I am not so foolish as to believe I could easily endure.”

“You are a wise woman, then,” Darcy said. “I shall admit I had a less realistic view of the navy before I joined the service, though my uncle was quite frank with me about it.”

“I understand you do not mean to return to it,” Elizabeth prompted him. “When do you intend to journey to Rosings?”

“I have not yet fixed on a date,” Darcy said quickly, for he had already begun to think he may delay that departure if his acquaintance with Elizabeth continued to progress so favourably. “Certainly I will need to be well-informed on the state of affairs there in time to make decisions regarding the spring planting.”

“You mean to assist your brother, then?”

Darcy did not mind making some explanation of his arrangement with Marcus, for he could tell that her queries were intended only to further the conversation. She had not a trace of that mercenary gleam in her eyes that was ever to be found in the ladies of the ton.

“I am to run the estate until my young niece comes of age, as it passed directly to little Lou upon the death of her mother, the heiress of Rosings. The estate has been managed by my aunt, Louisa’s grandmother, since the death of my uncle some twenty years ago.”

There was a playful twinkle in her eyes now. “The right honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh?”

For a moment Darcy could only gape. He knew not how Elizabeth could have heard of his aunt, but Lady Catherine’s reputation, where she was known, was not as a pleasant woman. “Are you acquainted with her?”

With a tinkling laugh, Elizabeth shook her head. “Not at all, though we share a mutual acquaintance whose praise of her was so loquacious that I feel as if I know her very well indeed.”

If she had heard praise of his aunt, she could not know Lady Catherine at all, but Darcy refrained from making this observation aloud. His look must have betrayed him, however, for Elizabeth continued to laugh, and then withdrew some folded pages from her pocket.

“When you suggested I bring reading material, I knew just what I wished you to read,” she said with a smirk. “My father is quite a connoisseur of nonsense, as one must be in such a family. He meant to keep this gem a secret for a while longer, but I heard from Olly, who has made a faithful correspondent of Mr. Bingley, that your own brother is responsible for your aunt’s vicar Mr. Collins coming amongst us very soon. I have never met my cousin Collins before, but his letter is such a bounty of information that I have sketched his character in my mind already, and that of your aunt.”

Darcy accepted the letter, and had not long to wonder why she would wish to share a piece of her father’s correspondence with a near-stranger. It was an utterly ridiculous missive; Darcy could feel his face twitching with amusement as he began to read of his aunt’s bounty and beneficence in appointing him. “The living is for my brother to bestow, as little Lou’s guardian – I wonder what he thinks of this,” Darcy mused aloud, but Elizabeth only urged him to read on. He did so, and grew increasingly astonished at Mr. Collins’s mode of expression. There was such a mixture of servility and pomposity as he had never before seen blended to such excess. “And this man is the heir to your estate?”

“Hence my mother’s frequent lamentations that we shall end in the hedgerows,” Elizabeth said with a wry smile. “There is nothing to be done about the entail. Fortunately, you can see here that he means to make us every possible amends.”

“I wonder what he means by apologising for the entailment,” Darcy mused, encouraged to share her amusement at what must truly be an unpleasant reality. “Would he really help it, if he could? He cannot be a sensible man, I fear.”

“My father has every hope of finding him quite the reverse,” Elizabeth said. “I am sure my mother will be delighted with him, for I can guess how he means to atone for his inheritance.”

For a moment Darcy did not understand; realisation alighted on him as he beheld her cheeky expression. “Oh. But he is such a man!” He gestured feebly at the letter before returning it to her.

“Olly, of course, has some scheme in mind to match him with my sister Mary, though she is not the daughter Mamma would prefer to see as mistress of Longbourn. Whatever happens, at least it shall promise to be diverting. If he truly is so insensible, at least I shall be quite safe from him.”

“People never mind having what is too good for them,” Darcy quipped.

Elizabeth screwed up her face in exaggerated alarm, and then shook her head as if to dispel the unpleasant notion. “But you must tell me of Rosings, for I fear I shall only receive an embellished account of it from my cousin. He will no doubt have counted every window, and will recite the cost of the elegant furnishings, but tell me little that I might really wish to hear.”

“What would you like to know?”

“If it belongs to your family, I can already suppose it must be a fine house. But what of the grounds, the neighbourhood, the people there? Have you spent much time at the estate? I have surmised it must have belonged to your aunt and uncle since you were a child before passing to your brother’s late wife. What was she like? Did she enjoy being mistress of the place?”

“My cousin Anne was never properly mistress of the house,” Darcy said ruefully. He paused, measuring his response; he did not wish to give away too much of his disdain for his aunt, for fear his censure would sink him in Elizabeth’s esteem.

“Anne was always perfectly content to be at Rosings, though her health prevented her from taking on too much responsibility. She had a little phaeton and ponies, and would often ride about the extensive grounds with her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, and then with Marcus after their marriage. I believe my aunt enjoys her role in running the place, though there has been some disagreement between her and Marcus in such matters. She is a strong-willed woman, and it was her will that Anne should go to Pemberley with Marcus after their marriage. The estate was left to my aunt’s care; sadly, it did not flourish under her dominion, nor did Anne fare well so far north. Her health rapidly declined, and though she was happy to see Rosings one final time, and deliver her daughter there, I fear that she ought never to have left the place.”

“Oh dear – that is very sad,” Elizabeth said softly. “It must be a lovely place, if she was so attached to it.”

Anne might have been much happier at Rosings if her mother had been willing to be relegated to the dower house, as the entire family desired, but none amongst them had been willing to fight the dragon. Darcy sighed and shook his head. “She deserved to see the place prosper. I hope I can achieve that in her honour.”

Elizabeth smiled. “That is a much happier thought. And it speaks well of your brother that he would trust you with such a responsibility.”

“He never cared for the place,” Darcy said. “I love Derbyshire, of course, but Pemberley is in his blood. He was born to it. He dislikes the manicured gardens and the ostentatious manor; even when we were boys, he protested our visits, whereas I kept my apprehension to myself. I enjoyed riding over the grounds – you would appreciate the picturesque views to be had, as much as you relish your rambles here. The wilderness is lush and beautiful, and those who enjoy long walks or short rides may be treated to a particularly scenic view of a small lake surrounded by ancient oaks on the north side of the property. To the south there is a little stream, and about a mile of it has a walkable path alongside it, lined with tall trees with gnarled roots and low hanging branches. There are lots of open meadows, as well, making it fine land for riding.”

Elizabeth tipped her head to one side as she looked up at him. “Shall you be content in Kent, then?”

Darcy again considered his response before speaking. “I will be glad to give my family the relief that must accompany my retiring from the navy at such a time, and I am pleased that I might ease the burden of my brother, who is so occupied in assisting our father at Pemberley that he cannot give Rosings the attention it deserves. It is a generous offer for him to make me, and I believe the challenge of it may prove gratifying.”

“Very worthy sentiments,” Elizabeth said. “You are a man of duty and honour; your brother could not place his trust in a better man, I am sure.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said, feeling flustered by her warm praise. He attempted a little jest to alleviate his sudden embarrassment. “I cannot say whether I shall be best pleased by my nearest neighbour at the vicarage.”

“Ah, but you shall soon find out,” Elizabeth teased him. “Perhaps it will prove a blessing to encounter him away from the influence of his noble patroness, for if the manner in which he demeans himself toward her is not to your liking, you may perhaps encourage him to behave as you would prefer.”

Darcy chuckled. “Because I am such an excellent guide in proper comportment.”

“You have more than atoned for your rudeness last evening, Captain Darcy. I have every faith in you.”

“You are too generous.”

“Perhaps,” she said archly. “But certainly you are superior to my cousin, and capable of moulding such an inferior character. Those of us more inclined toward impertinence may prove a greater challenge.”

Darcy felt himself begin to lean toward her as he smiled and said, “Have I not just expressed my fondness for challenges?”

“I have every faith in your temerity, as I have not yet driven you away with my impudence,” Elizabeth chortled, her face turning pink.

They walked on, beginning the ascent of the large hill she had called Oakham Mount, and the overgrown foliage that lined the path obliged them to walk a little closer together. After a few minutes of silence, Elizabeth said, “I understand that both you and Mr. Bingley intend to learn the management of estates while at Netherfield.”

“Yes. I am not entirely ignorant of such matters, though I have never expected to find myself the master of such a large estate as Rosings Park.”

“Olly has told me there are fortunes to be made in the navy; he wishes to buy a property of his own someday. But perhaps you would prefer to purchase a house in Town. You may admit it freely, for Mamma is not here to scold you for it,” she teased.

Darcy nodded appreciatively at her witty banter. “What I meant is that I was intended for the church for most of my life. My father is the oldest of the three brothers, and my two uncles inherited smaller estates once owned by my late grandfather. There are none such for me, as often happens with second sons. My parents desired that I should take orders, and wished to give me a valuable living in the village of Kympton, which is very near Pemberley. It was only after I completed my education that I accepted I was not suited to that profession.”

“Should you not like to distinguish yourself from the pulpit, making fine speeches and sermons?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief, as if she could guess the answer.

“I have the utmost respect for the clergy, of course, though it would seem I am more frightened of public speaking than of French warships.”

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him. “Perhaps when you make my cousin Collins’s acquaintance, you will discover a newfound appreciation for that vocation, and take orders at once in the hope of expressing yourself with such remarkable verbosity. He has been favoured by Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and must be an orator of incredible talent.”

“I know just what to expect of my aunt’s vicar,” Darcy said, clamping his mouth shut before he could make any further disparagement. Even so, his scepticism was enough to elicit another lovely peal of laughter from his companion.

“My goodness,” she said, shaking her head with a playful smile. “I ought to be patient, and wait until he is actually amongst us to form any fixed opinions. Despite my wickedness, I do have every proper regard for men of the cloth, and I must vex you just a little by suggesting that surely your fondness for challenges must have made you an excellent parson, had you entered into that profession. Any man who can endure the perils of life in the navy must surely be capable of facing down his own congregation.”

“By boring them into a sonorous stupor, perhaps,” Darcy mused. “I shall admit that I believe I would have been quite capable of every other duty – in the attention to my parishioners through acts of charity. I intend to make sure all the needs of my tenants are met when I assume my duties at Rosings, and I anticipate that I shall find it infinitely more rewarding than the duties that have occupied me these four years.”

“Such benevolence will undoubtedly earn you the unwavering support of your vicar,” Elizabeth replied.

“I have heard you speak of sharing an interest in visiting your father’s tenants. You shall have your own share of Mr. Collins’s admiration,” Darcy said, attempting to match her levity. She sputtered with laughter, but before she could reply, Darcy found himself blurting out, “I must make haste in being the first to praise you for it. Amongst my circle there are many wives and daughters of landowners who would think it beneath them.”

“What a relief that I have every chance of earning my cousin’s esteem,” she drawled, looking up at him with a smile.

Despite her jesting tone, Darcy was overcome with a surge of horror at the notion of Elizabeth residing so near him in Kent, wed to the pompous sycophant who worshipped his aunt. This notion was immediately followed by a far pleasanter one; he imagined her as the mistress of Rosings, by his side as the two of them learned together how to manage every challenge the failing estate was sure to throw at them. She would be adored by the tenants who had, for far too long, endured a despot.

Elizabeth was truly an uncommon gem. She was clever and kind, and her conversation brought out an eloquence in himself that he had not known he possessed. She was also incredibly lovely, though not in the classical style. Rather, she was nymph-like and beguiling, her easy manners rendering even her imperfections enchanting. What might it be like to fill Rosings Park with her laughter and unabashed joy, to complete his happiness with a woman as graceful in the ballroom as traversing the open countryside?

He was obliged to recollect himself, and nearly laughed aloud at the rapidity of his thoughts. He admired Elizabeth even more than he had expected to, but his mind had leapt from admiration to love, and from love to matrimony after two days’ acquaintance. He had never thought himself the type to act with such alacrity in matters of the heart – indeed, he had never been in love, or anything like it before. But as he watched another gust of wind rain golden leaves down on the beautiful Elizabeth Bennet, Darcy could not talk himself out of the precipitous feeling that he had found the perfect woman to tempt him.

They passed the rest of their walk in the same harmony, resting a while once they had reached the summit of Oakham Mount and beheld the picturesque vista that Elizabeth clearly relished. They spoke of the neighbourhood, of Longbourn’s tenants, of books and poetry, of London amusements and pastoral pastimes alike, and of their beloved sisters. Elizabeth even teased him that they had traversed so many topics in their meandering conversation that upon their next meeting they should have nothing further to say to one another.

Darcy could hardly credit such an assertion; he could listen to her speak all day, and was delighted to find that their opinions were more often than not in perfect agreement. She expressed herself more easily than he and with a greater degree of enthusiasm, but she could draw him out as no other creature in the world had ever done.

When he did struggle to express himself, she was content to tease him, reminding him of their playful banter the night before, when she had presumed to speak for him, and Darcy was convinced that he should like nothing better. Indeed, he could not shake the certainty that he should like it for all his life.

His affections were irrevocably engaged before they had descended Oakham Mount, and though he knew not how he had managed to recommend himself to such a charming paragon of feminine perfection, he was resolved that he should oblige his friend Olly by endeavouring to woo Elizabeth Bennet for as long as he remained in Hertfordshire. Though the arrangement of his running Rosings Park was a relatively new scheme, he could no longer imagine doing so without her by his side.