Page 74 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
“I only ask you to be honest,” Jane said cryptically and rose. “At least with yourself, and, it is to be hoped, with the gentleman who owns your heart. I dare say there is reason to aspire to a happy conclusion. But, for now, I shall leave you to your thoughts,” her sister declared and walked away.
Elizabeth remained rooted to the bench. Was this not what she had coveted? To be granted an opportunity to show her improved impression, her willingness to forgive the slights—though he had not even begged her pardon in person. Faced with the possibility, she hardly knew whether she had the courage…
“Wait!” she cried, but Jane had already entered the colonel’s carriage. Elizabeth returned to her conveyance and joined her grandmother. Whilst she pondered this conundrum, they descended the hill where the road wound with abruptness, crossed a bridge, and turned onto a side road. Looking out of the window, she watched as Jane and the colonel’s vehicle continued on towards Pemberley’s door. An elderly-looking housekeeper—less fine and more civil than she imagined would have greeted them at Chatsworth or Blenheim—came hurrying down the steps. Her brother-in-law alighted and handed out his bride before her view of the house disappeared around a bend.
“This is my Edensor, or rather it is Mr Darcy’s, but I have the tenancy for as long as I live,” Miss Eudora Darcy informed her guests only five minutes later.
The house was much smaller than Pemberley but rivalled Longbourn. Elizabeth thought she could be very happy here, especially considering the close proximity to Mr Darcy’s estate, which was in easy walking distance should she be so inclined.
“May I stretch my legs?” she asked her grandmother. “Jane’s idea of a stroll is by no means sufficient.” She chuckled.
Maeve Bennet allowed her to abscond as she might as well get her hems dirtied before she changed for dinner.
Elizabeth thanked her grandmother and walked towards a sheltered path winding along the river with trepidation growing in her mind. Mr Darcy had avoided her company for months, yet both Jane and Grandmother Bennet believed there was reason to hope. Neither would have put Elizabeth in this precarious position if they thought Mr Darcy might object. Jane, in particular, must know something Elizabeth did not, which was not so unfathomable when she considered her closeness with her new husband. Mr Darcy and the colonel were not mere cousins, they were dear friends, and as close as brothers. Could Mr Darcy have spoken to the colonel and begged them to come and bring Elizabeth? If so, her being here would be an anticipated event. The sound of a horse approaching intruded upon her happy thoughts and reeling mind.
She stepped out of the path to allow the rider to pass whilst she pondered what to say to Mr Darcy when she encountered him.
The bright sun reflecting off the water scorched her eyes, and she turned her back to it just as the rider came around the bend. A man was trotting slowly with a sodden child clutched in his arm—a forlorn young fisherman, she surmised, as the man lifted his head.
The rider was none other than Mr Darcy, and her heart danced a reel in her chest. She vacillated between dread and pleasure before the delight of seeing him won the battle of emotions. For that short space of time, she thought his feelings for her were still unshaken—until she espied his countenance. The shock written on his face betrayed that her arrival was unexpected, and the beating of her heart increased to a deafening rhythm.What must he think of me? Visiting his aunt just minutes from his doorstep?Let me see how he behaves before quashing every expectation,she decided and fought for composure.
He drew his horse to a halt in front of her.
She curtseyed and with anxious curiosity looked into his eyes.
“Mr Darcy!” She looked away. He was in his shirtsleeves and wet to the skin, but his countenance was serious—more as he had looked in Hertfordshire than in London. Did he object to her presence? It was a painful but not an improbable conjecture.
“Lady Elizabeth?” he greeted with a questioning tone of voice.
“I have come with my grandmother and Miss Eudora Darcy,” she explained. “They were so obliging and invited me for a visit to Edensor. I had no idea Pemberley was so close.” She glanced up at him just in time to see his face change from surprised to crestfallen.
A droplet fell from a wayward lock and travelled down his face. He blew at the offending strand, which barely budged. He had no hands free with the child sitting in front of him, secured by his arm, and the reins in his other hand. How dearly would she have liked to run her hand through his hair, even when wet. To be allowed such an intimacy…
The child of six or seven summers shivered and appeared blue about the lips. She took the shawl draped unused over her arm and gave it to Mr Darcy.
“Wrap the child in this. It should keep him warm until you reach the house.”
“Thank you,” Mr Darcy said and grabbed the shawl. Their fingers grazed each other—his hand was so chilled. “You are cold!” she exclaimed. The water must have been freezing. She stepped promptly back. “Pray! Do not allow me to detain you.”
He rode off, and she stood gazing after him, boldly ogling his figure exposed by a wet, clinging shirt. She adored water; it may very well be her favourite thing when pertaining to Mr Darcy.
She was pathetic… Not a word had she spoken about how delightful she found Pemberley, or her pleasure in seeing him, or anything remotely similar to her true sentiments.
Mr Darcy turned and glanced at her for a brief moment before he disappeared out of sight. The gesture delighted her. He was not completely indifferent.
She walked slowly back to Edensor. The butler opened the door and ushered her inside, informing her that the ladies had retired to their rooms.
“Would you like an escort to your chamber?” he offered to Elizabeth’s relief.
“Yes, if you would be so kind.”
“Certainly, madam.” He rang for a maid. “Would you like to join Miss Darcy and Mrs Bennet’s tour of the house when you have rested?” he asked while they waited for the servant.
“Yes. Thank you, I would be much obliged.”
“There is a bell in your room,” the butler informed her, “should you need anything. Hannah has been assigned for your personal comfort and will respond to your summons.”
“Thank you,” she repeated.
