Chapter 14

Fourteen

Friday, April 17

Stars still shone when, bundled up warmly, Elizabeth left the parsonage.

After crossing the lane, she entered the frost-covered park and veered in an easterly direction. I must be mad to leave my cosy bed at the merest crack of daybreak and walk in freezing temperatures towards the rising sun's weak warmth. Despite that opinion, Elizabeth was as happy as a lark, though she did refrain from breaking into song.

Stepping lively and swinging her arms to generate heat, she gave herself free rein to think about Mr Darcy. He was not at all the vexatious, arrogant so-and-so she had been so prejudiced against since first acquaintance. His manner was so altered, so gentlemanly. He intently listened to what she had to say, behaved with propriety, smiled, and spoke to her more in the last se'nnight than he had during almost two months complete in Hertfordshire. With each and every encounter, her respect and regard had increased until his society was deemed entirely agreeable. And since there was nothing so tiring as ill temper, she was resolved to continue enjoying his company while unable to escape it. No, she no longer wished to escape it.

There he was just ahead also walking eastwards, coattails flapping in his wake. Elizabeth laughed at herself. Just as I knew he would be. Admiring his athletic frame, his confident, powerful stride and graceful carriage, she had to admit the gentleman was handsome, even from behind.

Previously, she had been plagued by the mischance that brought him to a place no one else but she ventured. That morning, though, she welcomed the opportunity to visit his favourite spot and to gradually improve the intimacy of their acquaintance far from prying eyes.

Hurried footfalls must have apprised him of her presence. Mr Darcy turned back, and she wondered if he had been listening for her. As he approached, Elizabeth's heart gave an unexpected lurch. Did it mean she held him in affection? She dismissed such a thought at once. The feeling, no doubt, was brought on by their forced proximity. It would not last once they returned to their customary lives.

Along with a greeting and a bow, he bestowed upon her such a broad smile that a dimple appeared upon his cheek. The good humour of his countenance made her breath catch, and the last vestiges of her pique fell through a crack in the ice of her heart and sank into murky depths, hopefully never to resurface.

He offered his arm, and mutual enquiries on common subjects passed before they walked awhile in silence, each unwilling to further disturb the dawn's quietude.

At their destination, which afforded a stunning view of the sun painting a rosy, golden glow across the cloudy horizon, Mr Darcy removed his greatcoat and spread it upon the bench's cedar planks. Then he stood, facing her and staring in evident admiration.

"Sir, you are missing the beauty behind you."

Without looking back, he replied, "It is unequal to the beauty before me— your light, your rosy glow."

Unaccustomed to compliments, Elizabeth bowed her head. Other appealing words, ones spoken eight days prior, resounded. ‘…how ardently I admire and love you' . Strong was her urge to reach out, to touch him, as he had done to her the previous night. In what? A gesture of affection? Yes, perhaps. She hoped her smile conveyed the happiness she felt.

He sat beside her then, close but not touching, and they chatted about their families and watched the colours change while the sun cleared the horizon.

With fondness and honesty, Elizabeth spoke of her parents. She sang her elder sister's praises and made excuses for her younger ones.

"Lady Catherine was quite put out that we had no governess and no accomplishments worth mentioning. Your aunt, of course, does not know that Lydia is a shining example to all young ladies."

"She is?" The disbelief in Mr Darcy's voice was almost comical.

"Oh yes. She is a shining example of how not to behave."

Tactfully dropping that subject, he asked, "And you? For what are you known? What is Miss Elizabeth Bennet's forte?" Although not another soul was in sight, he lowered his voice. "Other than capturing the master of Pemberley's heart, that is."

Until that moment, she had felt quite at ease, but when he said such things, what was she to say in return? "My grandest accomplishments are impertinent wit and an unerring ability to judge a person's character on first sight. 'Tis rather uncanny, really." In an admirable mimicry of Lady Catherine, she added, "I am quite proficient."

Pausing in indecision, Elizabeth fidgeted with a ripped stitch on her glove. "I wonder at my imprudence in asking this, sir, but if you ever were to return to Hertfordshire, would you?—"

"Yes. Yes, I most certainly would, if you so wish it." He grinned.

Her application had begun in earnest, but Mr Darcy's unexpected playfulness tugged at her heart. "I was going to ask if you would consider becoming better acquainted with my family and relations. But now I shall not bother asking."

"Let us speak seriously, madam. If—no, when— I go there, I shall embrace your family, one and all. Figuratively, that is."

Elizabeth feared that if ever he did spend time with her family—notwithstanding what he had said to the contrary—his attachment would vanish faster than her youngest sister when there was mending to be done.

"I know your sister's name is Georgiana. Can you name mine?" Will he meet my challenge?

Without hesitation, he said, "Miss Bennet is Jane. Next would be Miss Mary, followed by Miss Catherine—though you called her Kitty, and Miss Lydia. But to be fair, you spoke of each by name just minutes ago." He leant forwards, his expression soft while looking deeply into her eyes. "I received a reply from Bingley, and your elder sister should expect a visit from my friend"—he consulted his watch—"in approximately seven hours."

Smiling and seeing him in a new light, Elizabeth barely stopped herself from embracing Mr Darcy. "Such rectitude, sir! You are the very best of men, and you have my heartfelt gratitude." Tears threatened, welling in her eyes as she imagined her beloved sister's happiness. A folded pocket-handkerchief appeared in front of her face. "Thank you. Oh, what is this?" A pink rose petal had fluttered from within the linen folds and landed upon her lap. "How lovely."

He seemed embarrassed. "It reminded me of your—" His eyes fell to her lips. "Of you."

Her blush matched the petal as she handed it to him. "In that case, you had best keep it. I would not want you to forget me."

"Never." His eyes sought hers. "Never could I, even if I tried."

The new light in which she viewed the gentleman shifted again in the sunrise, and it reflected the possibility of her own future felicity. Had Mr Darcy not previously alluded to the fact that he still wished to secure her affection, she would have sworn no man would offer marriage a second time to the same woman. No, she must not raise her hopes. I fear I have become ill-fitted to endure the loss of his esteem.

His adoring mien was becoming a little too intense, too intimate for Elizabeth's comfort. "It is fortunate your tidings about Mr Bingley bring me tremendous joy this morning, sir. There will be no need to shoot the messenger."

"I am glad to hear it." Shifting closer, he slid his arm along the back of the bench, his hand brushing her collar in the process.

Gooseflesh arose upon her nape. Her breathing was affected, and a thrill coursed through her entire body. That the staid Mr Darcy should affect her so! Keeping very still, she took a deep breath. Whatever that fragrance is, he smells divine. Is it his shaving soap? What would he do if I just leant in and nuzzled that firm jaw?

Thinking she might scream if he did not speak or do something, Elizabeth blurted the first thought that came to mind. "Anne seemed surprised when I made a remark about your being taciturn."

Withdrawing his arm, the gentleman smiled at her in a self-satisfied manner. "You and Anne talked about me , did you?"

Looking down at the bothersome ripped stitch, Elizabeth hid a grin. "Yes. It must have been when we were rather desperate for a topic."

"Minx!"

Elizabeth tapped a forefinger against her chin. "I believe I was telling your cousin about the time I sat with a visitor at the parsonage, fearing we might sink into total silence. If memory serves, the gentleman took up a newspaper from the table, glanced over it, and made some sort of cold remark. Then Charlotte returned from her walk, and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying much of anything to anyone, the visitor went away."

"You are teasing me. And rightfully so." He rubbed his forehead a few times, and Elizabeth hoped she had not given him a headache. "I have made so many abominably stupid blunders since my father's demise, and I am so very sorry for any pain I have caused you."

Regretting that she had recounted the incident and suffering no little measure of shame over his woebegone expression, Elizabeth gave his arm three little pats. "Prepare yourself, sir. I am going to tell you something dreadfully shocking."

Expression grim, he nodded.

"You, Mr Darcy, are human . And humans make abominably stupid blunders all the time. My most recent one was when I just now mocked your past behaviour, and I beg your pardon for that. However, you must learn some of my philosophy." Drawing herself up, she gave him a stern look. "Repeat after me now, sir. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure."

He complied, and his countenance softened into something akin to adoration.