Page 12 of Count the Cost (The Secrets of Elizabeth Bennet #2)
A t dawn, Elizabeth stole out of the house. Uncle’s coach would be at least another two hours, and she had packed her trunks before she went to bed; her journals and ledgers buried below her clothes for safekeeping.
She strode up the familiar path, barely conscious of the twists and turns.
Mr. Darcy was so infuriating! She had been happy with his first question, because she had been able to tell him the Gardiners were her relations without seeming to draw attention to it.
And he didn’t seem to have remembered that she could have told him about it as early as the assembly.
But he was as arrogant and proud as all of the customers she sold her unique items to.
When in town, she often wandered around the luxury part of the warehouse — her domain — the part set up to look like an exclusive Bond Street store.
She would pretend to be browsing the goods, as she listened to her customers speaking to each other or the attentive staff who waited nearby, ready to serve them.
She learned a lot from what she overheard; about the goods that she could source next, and the state of their family wealth — she shook her head — they thought little of keeping their opinions and their information quiet.
But they were all proud and disdainful of others. Mr. Darcy was the same; and she would not let herself think of him again. And, by the time she came home for Christmas with the whole Gardiner family, she was sure he would be long gone.
She told herself she was pleased about it. But as she sat on the bench at the top of Oakham Mount, looking out over the valley, and the morning mist began to clear in little rising tendrils from the pastures, she recalled his amusement and attentiveness during the supper at the assembly.
Jane had told her that Mr. Bingley had been astonished. That his friend never danced the supper dance with an unmarried young lady.
He was quite handsome, she would allow. And when he was amused, his eyes turned darker. Quite attractive, she supposed.
She jumped, startled, as someone cleared their throat. It almost seemed as if she had conjured him from the forefront of her mind.
“Excuse me, madam.” He bowed to her. “I had no expectation I should find anyone here.” He indicated the horse following him on a loose rein. “I was only going to pause for a moment on my ride to rest my horse.”
Elizabeth had risen to return his bow with her curtsy. “No matter, sir. I was about to leave, so you will have the solitude I know you enjoy.”
“I would … If you have a few moments longer, Miss Elizabeth, I would be glad to speak to you.” He almost looked as if he meant it, though she was unsure of his tone.
“Very well, if you wish, Mr. Darcy.” She would not let him think she was running away from him.
She was not in need of a husband. And she did not wish to marry, either.
She regained her seat, moving to the end of the bench.
He sat at the other end, scrupulously correct. “I thank you.”
Then there was silence. Elizabeth wasn’t inclined to make conversation, she had nothing to say to him, and it was not an occasion for social chatter. She almost missed when he spoke, his voice was so low.
“I am happy at the opportunity to see you this morning, Miss Elizabeth. I wished to beg your pardon before you left.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I am not aware you have anything to apologise for, Mr. Darcy.” Apart from being one of those despised first circles. And he could hardly help that — she was also not sure he would think it something to be apologised for.
“Well, I was hoping yesterday’s conversation …” His voice petered out, and he swallowed. “I wanted to apologise if in any way I had inadvertently raised your expectations.” He looked rather woebegone, and Elizabeth was hard put to it not to laugh.
“No, sir. As I have told you before; I am not in need of a husband, and you have done nothing that might have made me wish otherwise.” She kept her head high and met his gaze unflinchingly.
She was determined not to show her amusement that he looked simultaneously relieved and a little offended that she thought so little of him.
There were a few moments of silence, and she turned her gaze back to the view. “I love it here, and this place, at dawn, is the memory I take with me wherever I go,” she murmured. “I imagine you have a favourite view from your childhood that you might remember.”
He seemed happy to have something lighter to talk about.
“I do. Pemberley is situated within the Peak District, and the landscapes can be very dramatic. There is an old folly on top of a little knoll on the southern edge of the grounds. I like to stand there and look north over the lake to the house and the peaks rising protectively behind it. Their appearance changes with the weather, and often seems to suit my mood, but always the hills and skyline are permanent and unchanging, whatever is happening in the world.”
Elizabeth turned and looked at him, surprised at the emotion in his voice. “You must love your home as much as I do Longbourn,” she said quietly. “Thank you for entrusting me with such an insight.” She smiled tightly and turned away, back to the view, her heart full.
“What is the matter, Miss Elizabeth?” He sounded anxious. “What has distressed you?”
She shook her head. “It is nothing. Only that … the love of home is different for a gentleman — well, at least the master of an estate and his heirs. It is different for a lady. She might love her childhood home in the same way, but she must always know that she will never have the option to stay.” She rose to her feet.
“It is even more so for me as Longbourn is entailed away to a distant cousin. When Papa is lost,” her voice caught.
“We will all lose our home, and although we will not live in the hedgerows as Mama always laments, I know Longbourn will never be visited again.”
He was obviously thinking before he risked speaking, and she stifled her smile.
“That you know this, and are still not in search of a husband, would seem to be contradictory statements, Miss Elizabeth. As a sensible person, are you making other plans for your future security?”
She arched an eyebrow; his careful tones showed how anxious he was not to offend her. She was amused — he could certainly learn.
“Have no fear, Mr. Darcy, I have everything in hand.” She glanced at him. “And I am sorry, but I must go now to finish my packing. It has been an honour to make your acquaintance.” She curtsied.
He had risen to his feet when she did, and now he bowed. “Perhaps I should escort you home, madam.”
She shook her head. “I thank you for the suggestion but while it would not raise my expectations, it would certainly exercise my mother’s.
” She laughed lightly to ease his mind. “Goodbye, sir. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in Hertfordshire, and I also hope your sister continues to feel very special, as I am sure she is to you.”
“Until we meet again, Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed again, and she knew it was merely politeness that he said those words. She nodded an acknowledgement, and turned onto the homeward path.
She would not allow herself to look back, although the heat on the back of her neck told her that he was standing watching her. As she turned the corner to take her out of his sight, she sighed with relief — and a pang of inexplicable disappointment.
She was certainly not affected by him — well, to be honest with herself, her reaction to him was mixed; but she knew he was not interested in her — so why did he stand and watch her? Was it to make her uncomfortable?