One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (26 page)

Mr. Darcy knew he could not remain hidden for long, so after a few indulgent moments, he urged his horse back to the path, and approached the scene casually, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to encounter an acquaintance by accident at the base of the mountain before sunrise.

“Miss Bennet.” He nodded from atop his mount, unable to contain his smile at the sight before him.

“Mr. Darcy.” She acknowledged him somewhat reluctantly as she hugged his dog. “Have you lost your way yet again?”

“Perhaps.” He said with a smirk. “Although I believe it is just my dog I have lost.”

“You seem in good spirits today.” Elizabeth observed.

“I am,” he replied with an uncharacteristic grin, “in excellent spirits. I took a ride in the woods and find myself come across a woodland creature I cannot identify. If I were by the sea, I would say it was a mermaid, come out of the water and combing her hair upon the rocks. As there is no water, I am left to wonder if you are a sprite… or a nymph.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I am no sprite, Mr. Darcy. If I were, I would have disappeared before you came upon me. I had not anticipated that the wandering threesome would wander
 
this way
 
so early. You have caught me unawares.”

“Pleasantly so,” Darcy said, relaxing in his saddle. After a brief pause, he asked, “Threesome?”

Elizabeth laughed again. “How else am I to think of you, sir? There is my canine sweetheart, Apollo, come to raise the sun in the sky, and the equine lover, Romeo, who has followed me once before, and there is you. That is three.”

“A sweetheart, a lover, and me.” Darcy raised his eyebrows in amusement. “You did not characterize me as you did the others.”

“How would you have me do so?” Elizabeth wondered, tipping her head, squinting her eyes, and pursing her lips together. “Their taciturn master?”

Darcy frowned. “No.” He dismounted and approached Elizabeth. “I would far rather be something else. Would you be so kind as to try again?”

“Oh dear.” Elizabeth sighed, strangely affected by his approach, and unsettled too, at the realization that she wanted to say something that pleased him. She tapped her cheek as though deep in thought, while Mr. Darcy stood before her, holding the reins. “I suppose I will grant that some would find you handsome. You will have to settle for 'their handsome master,' or take 'taciturn' back as implicit.”

Darcy shook his head in mock amazement. “Did you just call me handsome, Miss Bennet?”

“Do not make me repeat it, or I will deny ever saying so.” Elizabeth retorted. “I was under some duress at the time.” She jumped up from the rock. “I am going to finish my walk to the top of Oakham Mount now. I would not miss the sunrise, Mr. Darcy.”

“You have not missed it.” Darcy tipped his head to the east, as the golden rays of the morning sun crested on the horizon. “You can see it where you stand. It is beautiful, is it not?”

Elizabeth looked, and seeing that he was right, shrugged her shoulders. “I am going all the same. Good day, Mr. Darcy.” She patted Apollo's head and started away.

“Miss Bennet!” Mr. Darcy called after her. She turned around and looked expectantly at him. “Miss Bennet, may I accompany you? I have long desired to see the view from the top of this mount. It would be a pleasure to do so in your company.”

Elizabeth nodded her agreement, but said, “You do realize that our doing so alone is not proper ... yes, I suppose you do. I will allow it, but must beg you to speak of this to no one. I have a reputation to consider.”

“How could you think I would speak of it to anyone, when I am so very taciturn?” Darcy said with a sly grin. “Your characterization of me is your guarantee.”

“Ah, but I have revised it at
 
your
 
insistence.” Elizabeth replied. “Handsome men are known to be very bold in bragging of their conquests. I require your word of honor as a gentleman that you will be silent about this.”

“I am not a braggart, and you are not a conquest, Miss Bennet.” Darcy was in earnest. “I have no desire to defeat you. You have my word that I will keep
 
this
 
secret as well as I have
 
your previous one
, and that I would do nothing to harm your reputation.”

Elizabeth nodded her acceptance of his reply and then walked briskly, too much so for conversation, as Mr. Darcy followed with Romeo behind him and Apollo running circles around them all. The walk was companionable, with the light of day ever brighter as they climbed.

As she walked, Elizabeth was reflecting on how surprised she was that she did not resent the intrusion on her solitude. She was also amazed that although just a few hours had passed since she had dreamed of being kissed by Mr. Darcy, she was not uncomfortable in his presence. After all, he did not realize that he had kissed her. That was one secret he would
 
never
 
know.

Darcy's thoughts were on a parallel to those of his companion. He thought of how he had ridden out in the morning to escape his thoughts, especially thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet, and how when he had spotted her red cloak, he had had no alternative but to pursue her. He had no regrets that he had done so. Being near her was a guilty pleasure, one that he embraced in the moments when he could and only fought when they were apart.

It was as he was thus musing that Fitzwilliam Darcy was forcefully struck with an epiphany.
 
I cannot live without Elizabeth Bennet.

It was at this very moment that they reached the summit, and Elizabeth said softly, “Look, Mr. Darcy. Is the sight before you not a fair prospect? I do not know how to bear it sometimes, to gaze upon such beauty and not be able to ever hold it, to be limited to just looking. It seems a hardship.”

“Yes,” Mr. Darcy said, looking at Elizabeth, the sunlight glinting off her hair, and her face flushed from exertion. “I believe I understand how you feel.”

Suddenly, Romeo stepped between them and nuzzled his head against Elizabeth's side with a soft whickering sound.

Elizabeth laughed and mumbled something about him being a lover. Reaching inside her cloak, she produced the apple she had brought for her breakfast.

“Your horse, Mr. Darcy,” she giggled sweetly, “while it would appear he seeks my affections, he is in fact, bent on stealing my apple.” She held the fruit out in her palm for the animal to take.

“He is a stupid horse,” Darcy replied. “He has taken the lesser prize.”

“I think not, for all I have left is a crust of bread. I would gladly share it with you if you are hungry.” Elizabeth dug into her pocket and produced the little bundle, unwrapped the bread and broke it in two. She offered a piece to Mr. Darcy.

He looked at the crust thoughtfully before accepting it and ate it in silence, surreptitiously watching Elizabeth eat hers.

Elizabeth did not miss his furtive peeks at her, for she was engaged in the same pastime of watching him. He seemed so unassuming and at ease, he hardly seemed to be the same man whom she had contemplated upon awakening. When they had both finished, Elizabeth joked, “Had I anticipated a picnic, I would have stolen the cake Mama had Cook make for tea.”

Darcy shook his head. “The bread was perfect, Miss Bennet. Sometimes, when a man is hungry, a piece of bread is all it takes to tide him over. I find myself very satisfied.”

“I am glad.” Elizabeth responded sincerely. “And now I fear I must return to Longbourn, before I am missed.”

“I will walk you home,” Darcy replied, “although I will stop out of sight of the house ... for the sake of your reputation.”

“That is not necessary, Mr. Darcy. It is too far out of your way—I would not have you trouble yourself on my account.” Elizabeth turned to begin the descent.

“Miss Bennet, I am not accustomed to being refused.” He stopped speaking when she glared at him over her shoulder. “Miss Bennet,” he tried again, “it would please me if you would allow me to escort you home.”

“That is a little better, Mr. Darcy, but there is a problem. You are too slow!” With a laugh, Elizabeth raced down the trail. Apollo kept pace with her, but Darcy, leading his horse, dared not go so quickly and had to content himself with a silent prayer that she would not break her neck.

At the rock where he had first come across Elizabeth, he mounted and spurred the steed, catching up with Elizabeth before she had made much distance.

She laughed when he reined in his horse in front of her, blocking her path. Elizabeth stopped and bent over to catch her breath, panting from running as fast as she could. When she had breath to speak, she looked up at the man who sat stern-faced in the saddle and smiled charmingly. “You have won, Mr. Darcy. I am defeated. You may escort me home, although you may not brag about your victory.”

Darcy was on the ground as soon as Elizabeth spoke. “You are mistaken, Miss Bennet. If anyone has been defeated today, it is I. I have waged a fierce battle and have lost, although I am not sorry for it.”

Elizabeth walked around Darcy and his horse, shaking her head in confusion. “Walk me home or not, it is your choice.”

Mr. Darcy walked alongside Elizabeth until they were just out of sight of the house, neither of them making conversation. He bid her goodbye, and mounting the horse once again, he sped back to Netherfield, his mind and heart full of Elizabeth Bennet.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Waiting for Tea Time

G
ood morning, Mr. Darcy!” Caroline exclaimed as he joined his breakfasting friends, “We had quite despaired of seeing you at all this morning. It is so unlike you to remain abed so late. Are you unwell?”

“No,” he replied cheerfully, “I am exceptionally well. I went for an early ride to exercise my horse and dog and am quite refreshed.”

“You must be famished.” Caroline said, “May I indulge you with a pastry this morning?”

“No, thank you, just some tea.” Darcy shook his head with a faint smile. When Caroline appeared ready to object, he added. “I ate some bread earlier and have no appetite for pastries.”

“Some toast then?” Caroline offered.

“As I said,” Darcy scowled slightly at Caroline, “just the tea.”

“Speaking of tea,” Bingley interrupted, “I am to call at Longbourn later this morning for tea. Would you join me, Darcy? I believe there is company enough to occupy you, although perhaps not so high as you like.”

“I cannot imagine intentionally spending more than five minutes in company with the Bennets.” Caroline sniffed. “Mrs. Bennet is without exception the most alarming example of ill-bred manners I have ever encountered. Do not count on me to accompany you, Charles. I will entertain Jane Bennet here anytime you like. I do not understand your wishing to go to that house, although I believe Mr. Darcy appreciates the 'fine eyes' to be had there.”

“One goes where one is happy, Caroline.” Charles grinned. “I am as happy when at Longbourn as anywhere in the world.”

“I am not happy hearing you even speak of Longbourn, Charles.” Caroline abruptly stood up. “I will find another room where the conversation does not turn on such an insufferable topic as this. I do hope you get past this infatuation with Jane Bennet quickly. She is a nice enough girl, but she is not for you. You will see soon enough, and your ridiculous infatuation with her pretty face will fade, as it always has before. Come, Louisa.”

Louisa obediently followed her sister out of the room, looking apologetically at Charles as she went. Mr. Hurst wordlessly dropped his serviette on the table and left a moment later.

“If I had known that happiness would clear a room, I would have tried it myself years ago,” Darcy said dryly after they had gone.

“It did seem remarkably effective.” Charles laughed. “Caroline apparently does not wish to visit the Bennets, and she would certainly prefer you stay at Netherfield instead of accompanying me to Longbourn.”