Page 5 of A Letter in the Wind (Mayhem and Scandal Collection #1)
A genuine smile spread across Elizabeth’s face. “I am most enticed now. You must comprehend a great deal about me to believe you know what interests me.”
Beneath her arm, she felt his muscles flex. His thumb and finger were at work again. Either something she said or something about his plans made him nervous.
“I would not presume to know you so well,” he said in a clipped tone. “I should say that I hope you will appreciate it.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Elizabeth was unsure what to say. His moods seemed to vary this morning. More disconcerting was why she should care. She had never minded if she irritated him before.
“You have told me of your great love for walking and nature,” he spoke abruptly but with gentleness. “I am curious to see what you think of this place. I found it as a boy and have frequently visited it on my holidays at Rosings.”
Elizabeth smiled encouragingly. Perhaps he missed his sister. There were times she could discern he had a kind and sensitive quality about him. Surely, he did not feel comfortable displaying that before his male companions.
After another minute, Darcy directed them off the main path to a narrow trail. She had seen it before but, thus far, decided against exploring it alone. The terrain was a tad rocky, and the thin branches of saplings and bushes swished back and forth in the swift breeze. Darcy held them back so she could tiptoe through without being lashed by the slender limbs. She pulled her skirt and petticoats close to keep from being snagged. Unexpectedly, all the wildness vanished, and there was a beautiful clearing. Lush grass carpeted the ground before a blanket of early bluebells and woodland anemones emerged. Other wildflowers dotted the perimeter, trailing into the woods. Elizabeth gasped with delight.
“Do you like it?” Darcy asked softly from just behind her.
“It is breathtaking,” she said in wonder before stepping forward.
She stretched her arms out and spun around several times. Staring up at the sky, the joy she felt bubbled over, and laughter erupted from her lips. She ceased turning lest she become dizzy, but she kept her arms extended and squeezed her eyes shut. For several minutes, she allowed the sun to shine on her, warming her and shutting out all the troubles of her life. In this secret haven, none of her inadequacies existed. Elizabeth was not the unloved second daughter who should have been a son. She was not cursed to destroy the lives of her loved ones. Here, the tumult of her mind quieted, and a sacred hush filled her. She could hear the whisperings of her Heavenly Father telling her that she was cherished.
When she opened her eyes, she started. Darcy stood before her. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together and looked as though he were holding his breath. Did her approval mean that much to him?
“Thank you for showing me this,” she said softly. “It is one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. It is so unexpected to find such a place here…” She trailed off, not wishing to offend.
“Here at Rosings with its manicured gardens?” Darcy finished her thought. “I agree with you. I always prefer the beautiful simplicity of a true wilderness. I think you would enjoy the grounds of Pemberley very much.”
“I have heard how beautiful your estate is and from a more credible source than Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “My aunt grew up nearby and continues to have fond memories of the area.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, she wishes to return someday.”
“If she ever does, then she is most welcome to tour the grounds and the house. She must tell the housekeeper that she is your relation and of your acquaintance with me. If I am in residence, I would like to greet them.”
“That is most civil.” Elizabeth could hardly contain her surprise. She had been certain he would think her Cheapside relations far beneath him. She had been wrong about his treatment of Wickham. Perhaps she was incorrect, and he had never contributed to Bingley’s desertion.
Darcy grinned. “We must not waste today . Come, see what beauties lay before you.”
He motioned with his arm, and Elizabeth happily led the way. They chatted now and then about the various species of flora and animals. She was astonished to learn how much they had in common—how many shared interests and thoughts they had. Never before had she supposed that they were of kindred spirits. Nevertheless, in this private dell, none of the pomp of society’s rank and fortune mattered.
“I am sorry that I did not bring a blanket or refreshments,” Darcy said after they had settled on a grassy patch. “I did not wish to arouse my aunt or cousin’s curiosity.”
“Does Miss de Bourgh never leave the house?”
Darcy frowned. “Once a week, she is permitted to drive into the village in a phaeton and a pair of ponies. Richard and I presented it to Anne a few Easters ago. Of course, Mrs Jenkinson must go with her. My ears rang for a solid week from Lady Catherine’s railing.”
“I am far from my mother’s favourite, but I suppose I would prefer that to the coddling that Lady Catherine does to Miss de Bourgh. The poor girl can hardly speak for herself.”
“Do not have too much sympathy for her, Miss Bennet.”
He said it in such a strange tone that Elizabeth wondered if he loathed his engagement. She had better leave the subject of his intended. Her eyes fell to Darcy’s hands. Instead of fiddling with his fingers, he had plucked a bluebell and now managed to turn it inside out without tearing it.
“I have never seen someone successfully do that,” she said.
“You must be very gentle,” Darcy replied and handed her one before plucking another for himself. “Go slowly.”
Elizabeth watched his practised and methodical movements, fascinated by how his large hands could be so tender and treat the flower so delicately. She attempted to copy him and failed.
He shook his head. “I fear you will have to remove your gloves.”
She hesitated, fearful of her body’s ridiculous reaction to every touch from him. Realising he studied her closely, she obeyed. He handed her another bloom. Their fingers grazed, and the intensity of the spark that leapt up her hand caused her to drop the precious flower. This only meant that he had to repeat the motion as he had gathered it faster than she could think. More prepared for her reaction this time, she managed to keep hold of the blossom. It took four more attempts, but with Darcy’s encouragement, she managed to succeed.
“Now, you are assured of winning the heart of the one you love,” Darcy said after congratulating her. “Or so the folklore says.”
“I am surprised you could remember, let alone repeat, such a sentimental belief. What else do they say about bluebells?”
“Georgiana once gave me a book which she thought was about botany. Actually, it was a lady’s guide with the meaning and legends of popular blooms.” He smiled at Elizabeth. “I did not have the heart to tell her otherwise or disappoint her by not reading it. As such, I know a great deal about flowers—not that I would confess that to nearly anyone else.”
Elizabeth laughed. “How sweet. What a kind brother you are!” She raised her brow. “However, you did not answer my question.”
“The book recorded many possibilities for the meaning of bluebells. You may choose your favourite interpretation: they are used in mourning; they can symbolise humility, constancy, kindness, and everlasting love.” He lightly caressed the bloom he held. “I can guess which you think is best.”
“You would be wrong,” she said. “I am not a hopeless romantic and blindly sentimental.” She inspected the flower. “Perhaps it can hold each meaning, but at different times in its life. Mourning does not make it less beautiful than using it to express love. It bows low in humility but is soft to convey its kindness.”
“And how does it communicate constancy, Elizabeth?”
She almost gasped at his free use of her first name but decided that they had become friends and were so secluded it could not matter for propriety’s sake. She looked into his eyes, which matched the beautiful flower, and a tinge of disappointment filled her. Nothing about this encounter would matter once they left. They would go their separate ways and return to the destinies of their positions. If only things could be different…
When she did not immediately answer, he dropped his eyes and fidgeted with the flower in his hand. Suddenly, he looked up. “Ah, I have just remembered. They bloom every year and can withstand the frost.” He held up a ring of bluebells that he linked together. “For my ever-kind friend who keeps me humble—in case you should lose your hat again.”
Elizabeth untied her bonnet and ducked her head, allowing him to place it on her hair. “How do I look? Like a fairy?” She leaned in and dropped her voice. “They are all around us, you know. Do you suppose they are sending us a blessing or a curse?”
Darcy did not reply, but they shared a smile as a cloud rolled in front of the sun, stealing the light and the warmth. Elizabeth shivered against the cold as the wind picked up speed.
“I think we ought to turn back,” Darcy said as he looked at the sky. “I fear we might need shelter before long.”
Reluctantly, Elizabeth conceded to the wisdom of his words. She removed her flower crown but could not bear to leave it behind. While on an errand with Charlotte, she had recently met an elderly lady who had never married. She was one of the most entertaining women Elizabeth had ever met. Miss Priscilla often talked of a little niece. Perhaps the child would fancy the floral circlet and keep it after it had dried.
After departing the glade and reaching the main path once more, the gusts grew fierce. Elizabeth had wanted to say more about how much she enjoyed the morning and the secret beauty he had shared with her. Unfortunately, the cold sapped her energy and clarity. Her teeth began to chatter. She tried to conceal it, but she feared Darcy could hear at any rate.
Without warning, he placed a hand atop hers. “You are freezing! Take my coat.”
Before Elizabeth could say otherwise, he slipped off his great coat and draped it over her shoulders. She had never before had a gentleman help her with a garment. She blushed at his actions, and he gave her a shy smile. His clean scent enveloped her, and instantly, she warmed. Alarmingly, she was uncertain if it was truly from the extra protection of his coat or the circumstances. She was not embarrassed, she thought, and yet she felt she could not meet his eyes. She slipped her arms through the sleeves. They were enormously long on her. The ridiculousness of it all struck her, and giggles emerged.
Darcy laughed a little, too. “Allow me, madam.” Tenderly, he rolled up the sleeves of his coat, revealing her hands. Then, he stooped to his knees and tied the bottom, so it did not trail on the ground.
Something about not having his eyes on her alleviated most of the heat that had flooded her. Instinctively, she shoved her hands in the pockets but felt paper in the right one. This must be the letter he had read earlier. Rather than have it annoy her for the rest of the walk, she pulled it out to place it in another pocket. Even the left one would work, as she would probably have that hand resting on his arm. She did not mean to look at it, but it had not been folded properly, and the handwriting caught her eye.
This was Jane’s missing letter! The very instant that she realised what it was, Darcy stood to his feet. Their gazes met, and guilt flooded his eyes.