His Uncle's Favorite (32 page)

“I have ridden a few times, but each time I felt more anxiety than enjoyment. Papa said I fell from a horse when I was five. I have no memory of it, but the fear has remained. However, I like horses very much; they are beautiful animals, and I love watching them—from afar. I think the last time I rode I was fifteen.”

They walked in silence for a short while. “Look, you can see the parsonage already.”

“Excellent. I am glad we will arrive in time; my cousin would never forgive me if we were late for dinner.”

“Nor would Lady Catherine, you know…” He appeared serious, but the mirth in his eyes betrayed him. “Nor the colonel… He seemed anxious to hear you play and sing.”

“Yes, the colonel… May I ask where he is? He seemed desperate to return to Rosings earlier today. Why is he not riding with you?”

“I…did not inform him of my plan to ride,” he replied with some hesitation; she turned to him and their eyes met for a moment.

“And Miss de Bourgh? She seemed unwell when I met her. Perhaps she was just tired? I hope she was better after she rested.”

“I am sure she is better; I have not spoken to her since we returned home. I believe she was tired indeed.”

“You seem close to Miss de Bourgh. She was… It is obvious she trusts you very much. She looked like she felt safe in your company.”

“I am close to Anne, indeed. She is the reason I come to Rosings every year around Easter,” he admitted. A strange silence followed, only the wind blowing through the trees and the heavy steps of Thunder behind them could be heard.

“I am as close to Anne as I am to Selina. They both are as dear as sisters to me. But Selina has a large family who adore her, and Anne is alone most of the time…with my aunt, I mean, but…she rarely receives other guests except us.”

She said nothing; as from its own will, her hand tightened the hold of his arm, and he continued.

“Robert is fond of Anne, too. He would never do anything to hurt her on purpose.” He did not say more, but his meaning was impossible to miss.

“I am sure he is. But he is not always careful with his words.” Elizabeth smiled.

“You seem close to Robert,” Darcy said, his voice lower.

“The colonel is one of the most pleasant gentlemen I have ever met. He is amiable and smart and possesses such friendly manners that make everyone easy around him. I enjoy his presence exceedingly,” Elizabeth said, glancing at him. His countenance was stern, and his gaze was searching somewhere ahead. She felt his arm tensing.

“Robert has been praised for his manners and for his friendly behaviour. I am glad you enjoy his company; he is an excellent man, and I know he admires you very much.”

He continued to walk carefully, his eyes fixed ahead. Elizabeth tried to keep pace, still holding his arm, her head turned to him, puzzled by his cold attitude. For a moment, she felt offended and was tempted to tell him that he could learn some manners from his cousin.

“Robert and I are very different,” he said, his voice even lower. Revelation turned her cheeks crimson as she tried to hide the welcoming warmth that touched her heart.
Is he jealous?

“I do enjoy his company very much,” she admitted, her voice as low as his. “In truth, I always feel at ease with him. I am never nervous in his presence, I never wonder what he might think of me, and I never struggle to guess the meaning behind his words. I know he admires me, but his admiration does not trouble me at all. I admire him too in the same way I believe I would admire a brother…if I had one.”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed he had turned his head and was staring at her, but she dared not meet his gaze. Her eyes searched the grass and the trees around them, fighting to hide a smile that threatened to escape her lips.
Yes, jealous, indeed!

The walk followed peacefully and silently. Neither spoke, nor did they look at each other until the parsonage was in view. They walked down the hill and crossed a small, wild garden. After a few more steps, they stopped; in front of them was a brook, which ran along the main path, separating the parsonage gardens from the rest of the estate. Due to the rain in the last days, the small stream was larger and deeper than usual; the water barely reached Darcy’s ankles, but Elizabeth had to stop.

She cast a quiet glance around and then turned to Darcy.

“Well, here we are, only minutes from the house. What should we do now, sir?”

He held her gaze, uncertain how to reply and unable to conceal his amusement.

“As far as I see, we only have two options: Thunder can take you to the other side, or…”

She laughed nervously. “I already like the second option better…”

“Or
I
can take you to the other side.”

She stared at him, her eyes and mouth wide. “Excuse me?”

“I could easily carry you to the other side. It would take but a moment.”

“Or I could pass through the water myself and be home in a few minutes.”

“True. But it might be difficult to explain why you were missing for so long and returned wet and dirty.” He smiled, strangely well humoured, and she took a deep breath, half-upset and half-amused by the situation and by his attempt at mockery. Yet, he had a point. She looked towards the house once more; she was certain she spied Mr. Collins in the garden. She took one more step and watched the horse carefully.

“Will you hold the reins? That is, if I am ever able to reach the saddle.”

“Of course,” Darcy replied.

He took her gloved hand and put it slowly on the horse’s strong neck, then covered her hand with his and moved her fingers against the horse’s shining skin. She stood still, looking at the splendid animal; she could feel Darcy’s protective presence behind her. She turned and faced him from mere inches away.

“Let me help you,” he said, and a moment later, she felt herself held and lifted; she barely had time to take a breath before she was settled in the saddle. She clasped her hands, afraid that she would fall any minute.

“Are you comfortable, Miss Bennet?”

“No, I am not. But the situation will not improve any time soon.”

He laughed, and his hand briefly caressed her arm. “It will take only a minute.”

He took the reins and walked slowly; the horse followed him instantly, stepping in the water. Elizabeth sighed, and her heart skipped a beat. Darcy turned to her, walking backward so he could watch her carefully. She smiled at him. “I am fine.”

“Good.” They were shortly on the other side, and Darcy stopped—as did the horse. Elizabeth dared to look around; only then did she realise how tall the stallion was.

Darcy stretched his hands to her; she hesitated only an instant before allowing herself to slide down. She felt his arms surrounding her, and she was imprisoned for a moment. He released her immediately and stepped back.

Elizabeth tried to breathe regularly before she dared to look at Darcy; then she turned shyly and reluctantly to the stallion and gently petted his neck and caressed his mane. The horse neighed, and she startled and stepped back then laughed at herself and returned to caress him.

“Thank you, Thunder.” She smiled.

She started to walk at a quick pace, eager finally to be home. Just before she was about to open the gate to the parsonage, Mr. Collins appeared in the yard.

“My dear Cousin Elizabeth, where have you been? We have been worried sick! Sir William believed you were lost or kidnapped!”

“I thank you for your concern, sir; I am perfectly well. I shall hurry to prepare myself for dinner if you will excuse me.”

“Oh, please make haste, make haste! Lady Catherine will be very displeased to hear about your little escapade; I dare not imagine how upset she will be if we are late.”

He was a living image of desperation, so Darcy needed to call his name three times before Mr. Collins heard him. “Yes, Mr. Darcy?”

“Sir, I understand your concern, but I would think that you of all people could appreciate Miss Bennet’s imprudent walk. Only imagine—she is here for the first time. How could she resist the beauties of Rosings, even the beauties of the parsonage? It is understandable that she was spellbound and lost track of time.”

“Indeed you are right, sir! How could I overlook that? Surely, you are correct. I remember myself walking around for days, admiring the gardens of Rosings and—”

“And Mr. Collins, perhaps it would be wise if you do not tell Lady Catherine. You know her ladyship is easily impressed; we would not want to upset her for no reason. I am sure Miss Bennet will be ready in time. I look forward to seeing you all soon.”

“I could not imagine myself doing other than you suggest, sir—such wise advice, indeed.”

“Very well then, it is settled. I shall leave you now. Good day, Miss Bennet, Mr. Collins.”

“Mr. Darcy, can you wait a moment, please?” asked Elizabeth, and to the gentlemen’s surprise, she approached and petted the horse once more.

“Thank you, Thunder.” Then she stepped closer to Darcy and curtseyed politely to him as she whispered, “I would thank you too, sir, but I have learned that I should not thank you for things you do most willingly.”

***

Immediately after he arrived at Rosings, Darcy retired to his room. He pretended not to hear the colonel and his aunt calling his name; he wished for a little solitude and tranquillity. His heart was light, but his mind was tormented with restless thoughts. That day turned out to be more than he could have hoped—and it had not ended yet. He would see her again soon.

As hard as he had fought it, sharp jealousy defeated his reason each time he saw his cousin with Elizabeth Bennet. That morning in the garden, he had spotted them long before his cousin called his name, but seeing them walking arm in arm, looking at each other and laughing, he did not trust himself enough to disturb them.

When they approached and he could see Elizabeth holding the colonel’s arm, the icy hole in his stomach grew. And then Robert started his insensitive, thoughtless conversation, and he could see Elizabeth’s disapproving expression. He felt obliged to return home with Anne, though he wished nothing more than to stay. And then she left with Robert.

Not for a moment did he imagine that Elizabeth might share the same feelings seeing him with Anne—yet she did, as she betrayed herself during their walk. She was jealous, too. And she was relieved to find that he was caring for Anne as for a sister, but not half as relieved as he was to discover the nature of her attachment to Robert.

She was extraordinarily smart, and she always found the perfect means to allow him to guess her feelings after his disastrous proposal. And then today he had spent an hour alone with her, an hour that brought him the joy he needed. She was pleased in his company, too; he could not doubt that.

He had been tempted to bring up the subject of his proposal again, to offer more apologies, and to explain to her what remained unexplained, but somehow he felt it was not needed; things seemed quite clear between them for the moment. Sometime in the future, if their newly born friendship grew as he hoped, there would be need for more words, for more explanations, and for more confessions. For the time being, he allowed himself to enjoy the warmth of their new friendship. He allowed himself to enjoy her company, her smiles, her jokes, her fears, her teasing, her touches… He could still feel her body touching his when he lifted her onto the horse and then when he took her down. For a moment, she had been in his arms—touching his, brushing against his—and her breath had warmed his face for an instant. He knew he would not be able to find rest or sleep for a long time, just recollecting that sensation.

Elizabeth had stolen his peace since the first day he was enchanted by her beautiful eyes.

***

Elizabeth took a final look at her image in the mirror and was reasonably pleased.

Since she entered the house, she had spent time preparing for dinner, fighting the temptation to lie on her bed and recollect each moment of the last hours.

She could not think of what happened and what was said without feeling her entire body tingle. She was not certain whether it was embarrassment, shame, or some other strange sensation she had never experienced before, equally pleasant and frightening.

She loved to be alone with him; she was forced to admit that to herself. She loved to see him so different than in the past—smiling, laughing at her, teasing her at times, protecting her when necessary, touching her, holding her… Her hand still felt his touch—their entwined fingers, caressing Thunder’s strong, soft neck—then he held her in his arms. That was what he did. She remembered the moment he took her off the horse; she slid into his embrace and her body touched his. Cold shivers travelled along her spine at the recollection. If he had tightened his grip only a little, she would have been breathless. In truth, she was breathless anyway.

As she tried to ignore the memories, she forced herself not to anticipate what would happen during dinner. She expected him to be as restrained and behave as propriety demanded. She could not hope for more. But there would be another day—and she had one more week at Rosings. Then she would return to Longbourn and he— No, she could not think of that yet.