Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A lthough Elizabeth did her best to listen attentively to Miss Darcy as they talked, her eyes frequently betrayed her intent by straying to where Mr Darcy conversed with the other gentlemen. It was not so long ago that she had been content to disregard him, but now she sought him out everywhere—in a roomful of strangers, through the window of the inn, even generally off in the distance on her walks. It was less that she expected to see him and more that she hoped to. When they were actually together, she could scarcely keep her hungry gaze away from him, and each time she caught him looking back, her breath caught.

Like now. Her uncle was in the midst of some fishing story, which had all the gentlemen enraptured save for Mr Darcy. His eyes sought out hers and held steady, seemingly unaware of all around them. It was as if only the pair of them stood beneath the shade of the willows, hidden from the rest of the world within the veil of wispy branches. The wind tickled the back of her neck, and she could almost imagine that it was him whispering endearments against her nape.

A shock of cold wetness startled Elizabeth from her reverie, and her connexion with Mr Darcy snapped. She looked down to find her lap spattered with the contents of an overturned glass of lemonade.

"Oh dear, your gown!" Miss Bingley's face was partially hidden behind her fan, but her amusement was not entirely obfuscated. "I suppose that is the risk one takes when eating on the ground."

Fully aware that the glass had been Miss Bingley's and equally suspicious that its capsize had been no accident, Elizabeth's response was a sardonic, "Indeed."

Miss Darcy began dabbing furiously at the spots on Elizabeth's gown while Mrs Annesley applied to a servant for more napkins. "I do hope your lovely frock is not ruined. Do you require a change? You are shorter than I, but I am certain something could be arranged."

Elizabeth slowed the girl's ministrations with a gentle hand. "No harm done, Miss Darcy. Lemonade will not stain, and my gown will be as good as new after a wash."

Readjusting the ornate feathered band in her hair—how it had not blown away already, Elizabeth did not know; she expected it to take flight any moment and join the birds—Miss Bingley said, "I suppose you need not worry overmuch for muslin. It is well suited to dirty activities, I am sure."

More suited to eating out of doors than her ensemble. Really, it is as if she expected a full dining set out on the lawn! Elizabeth bit her lip against the laughter that threatened to bubble out of her at the haughty woman's ridiculous fashion choices. Her gown might have been appropriate for perambulating through Hyde Park on a cool day, but by a lake in the height of summer, it was a silly choice. Miss Bingley greatly misunderstands the style of living at Pemberley, I think.

From behind her, towards the side of the house that was not visible through the trees, Elizabeth heard a series of barks and a sharp whistle. Almost as soon as she had turned round to investigate properly, she was playfully accosted by a large, wet tongue. "Freddy!" She giggled.

It was, indeed, her spotted friend from her first visit, and the Great Dane was overjoyed to see her. It was not more than a few seconds before Elizabeth was overturned just like Miss Bingley's glass, pinned down by Freddy's fervent affections. It might have been a grievous ordeal had it not tickled so much.

Havoc, naturally, ensued from there. Numerous voices—Mr Darcy's chief amongst them—rose to scold Freddy away, though Elizabeth was in no danger. Her dignity was, perhaps, somewhat tarnished, but the dog's romp was entirely friendly. Even so, it was a relief once Freddy was pulled off so she could sit up.

"Miss Bennet, are you injured?" Poor Mr Darcy looked utterly horrified as he held Freddy at bay by her collar, and Miss Darcy, at his elbow, had covered her mouth with her hands. Beyond them, the Gardiners watched with concern but not panic.

Laughing and probing her coiffure—surprisingly intact, albeit with a few extra leaves to pluck out—Elizabeth replied, "Not at all. I am perfectly well, if a little dishevelled."

"Are you certain? I can call for a physician if?—"

"Goodness, no! That is entirely unnecessary. Look." Elizabeth stood, twirled about, waved her hands, and generally proved to everyone's satisfaction that she was unharmed. "There, see? Not a single scratch."

"Such a hardy country girl," Miss Bingley said with an unconvincing smile. She received more than one chastising look for this unsubtle remark—the most blistering of all from her own sister.

Although growing weary of Miss Bingley's paltry attacks, Elizabeth only wished for the animosity to pass. With a self-deprecating chuckle, she said, "I confess I am. More a weed than a rose, I am afraid, though it is much to my advantage on occasions such as this. Is that not so, Freddy?"

Upon hearing her own name, Freddy barked and struggled free of Mr Darcy's grasp, bounding towards Elizabeth across the rug. He caught her again before she could get far, but Miss Bingley, who had leapt up at the Great Dane's first incursion, screeched as if set aflame and stumbled backwards into her own discarded plate. It flipped along one edge and sent the remains of her luncheon catapulting onto her gown. Elizabeth winced; strawberry jam would not be easy to scrub from apricot satin.

"Look what you have done!" she shrieked, turning the same colour as the dreadful splotch and glaring in Elizabeth's direction. "My frock is ruined, completely ruined ! If you had not called that dog, this never would have happened!"

Feeling some small amount of contrition for the part she had played, Elizabeth opened her mouth to apologise but was forestalled by Mr Bingley. "Do not be absurd, Caroline, it was an accident! Miss Elizabeth could not have known you would trip over your own feet."

"Charles—"

"Our apologies, Miss Bennet. I believe my sister is merely overcome. 'Tis a favourite gown," Mrs Hurst interrupted, grasping Miss Bingley by the elbow and shooting her a silencing look. The younger woman's face puckered, but she held her tongue. "Come, Caroline, let us go back up to the house so you can change. If we are quick, your maid might be able to save the fabric before the stain sets." So saying, Mrs Hurst began marching back towards the manor, tugging Miss Bingley along with her.

"One would think Miss Bingley had been the one tackled to the ground by a large dog."

Elizabeth turned to Miss Darcy with surprise, a short laugh bursting out of her. "I beg your pardon?"

The girl blushed and averted her face, mumbling, "Nothing."

Patting her young hostess on the arm, Elizabeth whispered, "It is what she gets for that mean trick with the lemonade, if you ask me. Some mystical force is watching and held her to account."

Her quip was rewarded with a tentative smile. Miss Darcy's gaze was then caught by something over Elizabeth's shoulder, and she hastily excused herself to see to some small matter. Elizabeth worried that she had been too bold with the delicate young lady.

"I do beg your forgiveness, Miss Bennet. I assure you that guests are not routinely accosted in this manner."

Elizabeth's confusion was resolved when she turned and beheld Mr Darcy at her shoulder, still struggling to keep Freddy under control with a firm grip on her collar. He had stripped to his shirtsleeves, as had the other gentlemen, and the sight of his arm straining beneath the thin material caused her pulse to quicken.

Shaking away her sudden bashfulness, Elizabeth replied, "Do not trouble yourself, sir. I am uninjured, as I have already proved, and I am very fond of dogs. They are the dearest, most loyal creatures in the world and feel so strongly that they cannot always contain themselves. That is no crime."

"Even so, Freddy ought to be under better regulation. I have tried everything to make her more obedient, but I am afraid I have spoilt her instead."

Thinking of her younger sisters, Elizabeth saucily replied, "It is easily done, sir."

"Let me return her to the kennel master and?—"

At Freddy's piteous whine, Elizabeth's heart ached. "Oh no, do let her stay! Perhaps if we allow her to gambol about a bit, she will calm. I, myself, can be quite unmanageable when full of restless energy."

A smirk curled to one side of Mr Darcy's mouth, and the wind lifted the hair from his forehead, making him look more roguish than genteel as he drolly replied, "I never would have suspected it of you, Miss Bennet."

All of a sudden, Elizabeth wished Miss Bingley had left her fan behind so that she could cool the warmth rising in her cheeks. How was she to comport herself in a ladylike fashion when he said such playful things?

After a slight clearing of his throat, Mr Darcy spoke again in his usual accents. "We have been sitting in the same attitude for so long ourselves that I believe a bit of exercise would be beneficial to us as well. Would you care to take a stroll with me?"

She was tempted to say that she would go anywhere with him in that moment but contained herself to, "I thank you, yes." They informed her aunt and uncle of their plan and were waved off with a ready blessing. She felt a momentary pang of guilt for leaving Miss Darcy without youthful female company, but the girl settled cheerfully next to her companion and resumed plotting the next day's tea party with the older ladies.

Mr Darcy released Freddy to offer Elizabeth his arm, which she took with a trembling hand. The dog loped around them in circles for a few seconds before bounding off towards the water, her nose to the ground .

He steered them to a well-worn trail that was partially obscured by the draping willow branches. It would afford them some amount of privacy—Elizabeth's nerves fluttered at the thought of what they might do with a little more—but would not shield them entirely from the view of their chaperons. They were a few scant feet from the shoreline, with water gently lapping against the tree roots, many of which were exposed in a gnarled tangle. Added to this was the rustling of the leaves, which created a natural melody they could almost dance to. It was a beautiful, restful place.

They were comfortably silent for some time before Mr Darcy quietly ventured, "I have fond memories of my parents by this lake. Especially my mother."

Elizabeth looked to her escort and found his gaze cast over the stretch of sparkling water. "Oh?"

"Yes. She was not a great walker like you, but she did enjoy the water. When I was very young, she would bring me swimming here and even occasionally dip her own feet in. She liked this lake so well that she even chose a room with a view of it for her study."

Elizabeth subtly winced. As I well recall.

"I had once hoped…" Mr Darcy shook himself, withdrew his eyes from the distance, and affixed them upon her face. "That is, I had always thought you would enjoy this aspect as well, given how fond you are of nature."

Elizabeth retained his gaze, even as she spoke of the lake in question. "It is a wonderful place. I can see how a person would never wish to leave it."

Mr Darcy opened his mouth but seemed to think better of what he was about to say and closed it again. He coughed, then resumed his usual formal manner. "Tell me, what have you seen of the Peaks since you have been in the area? There are some magnificent views."

The wind whistled and died away, reflecting her own disappointment. She wished she knew what Mr Darcy had been about to say. "We have been to Dovedale and?—"

Elizabeth squeaked as her foot caught on something—a tree root, no doubt—and she began an ungainly descent. Fortunately, Mr Darcy was nimble and managed to pivot and catch her before she could fall into a graceless heap upon the ground.

"Are you well?"

"Perfectly well, I assure you. I only lost my balance for…a…"

Elizabeth quite forgot what she meant to say once she became cognisant of Mr Darcy's proximity. With his hands upon her back, her chest pressed against his, she was essentially folded into his embrace. So near, she could easily observe the dark lushness of his lashes, make out every sliver of blue and green in his grey irises, and feel his soft panting breaths upon her cheeks. If she were not mistaken, he was moving closer yet, his eyes gradually drifting closed…