Page 18 of Darcy’s Guarded Heart

Elizabeth

M orning came swiftly as the entire party rose early to partake of breakfast before riding out.

To Elizabeth’s relief, Mr Darcy appeared an especially early riser and had dressed, eaten, and set out for the stable before Elizabeth’s party even arrived.

Miss Darcy, or Georgiana as she preferred to be called, looked utterly elated to be riding out, though Elizabeth suspected this was linked to Thomas, with whom she had already conversed whilst buttering her morning roll.

The way she gazed at him, with her eyes wide and a smile upon her lips, made Elizabeth feel both pleased and alarmed; for nothing could come of such an infatuation.

Fortunately, Thomas was well aware of this and did his utmost to dissuade the young lady by engaging instead in rather stilted conversation with Mrs Hurst and her husband.

Jane, meanwhile, sat by the window with Mr Bingley, who ensured a steady supply of tea was available for her.

As the group readied to make their way to the stables, Elizabeth, satiated by her porridge and tea, stepped out into the morning sunlight attired in her riding habit.

A brisk breeze rustled through the leaves as she made her way out of the house and around the back.

Behind her, Thomas exited beside Miss Bingley and Georgiana, their chatter mingling with the crunching of the gravel beneath their steps.

The rest of the party followed in due course.

At the stable, she spotted Mr Darcy, who brushed his horse with such a serious expression that one might have suspected he was rehearsing a speech at the House of Commons.

He glanced up and cordially nodded when he spotted her.

She smiled at him, but in light of the way their conversation had ended, she felt a little perturbed still.

She had lain awake for some while reflecting upon their conversation and the abrupt conclusion it had reached.

He was indeed a strange man, but perhaps not a bad one; at least, she felt compelled to consider this possibility.

Still, he’d allowed an otherwise pleasant exchange to end on a bad note, thanks to his dislike of Thomas—or whatever else the reason was for the way he chose to speak.

“Well, let us ride,” Mr Bingley’s exuberant voice rang out from behind them as he walked with Jane at his side. Jane beamed, looking as though she were already Mrs Bingley.

“They appear well-suited, do they not?” Thomas remarked as he joined her. “I believe Mr Bingley may yet make an offer.”

“Do you not think it too soon?” Elizabeth asked, but Thomas shook his head.

“When one knows, one knows. There are obstacles but they can be overcome if the heart wants it enough,” he replied with a wink. “Speaking of obstacles. I observed you emerge from the library last night, by the way, with Mr Darcy still within. Did the two of you bury the hatchet at last?”

Elizabeth drew a sharp breath. “I was unaware you were awake.”

“I was descending to help myself to some biscuits left in the drawing room when I saw you exit. Do you still consider him horrid?” Thomas prodded.

“You thought him not much better yesterday,” she retorted.

“I did not, but Georgiana assures me her brother is kindness itself. And who am I to argue with a young lady?” he said, nodding his chin towards Georgiana, who smiled brightly back at him.

“She is fond of you,” she observed.

“She is. But she is young, of good breeding, and entirely under her brother’s thumb, so I maintain my distance.

Her uncle is an earl, after all. And I know my place.

Mind you, I feel that perhaps Miss Bingley may have a fondness for me also—in a decidedly less proper way,” he added with a chuckle.

Elizabeth gasped and playfully slapped his arm before giggling, which drew Mr Bingley’s attention.

“Always so jovial, Thomas. I love to see it. Now, are we all ready?” he clapped his hands together.

“Mr Darcy has been ready since dawn,” Caroline chimed in with a grin.

“Morning is the best time for riding,” Mr Darcy asserted. “One can see the sunrise if one rises early enough, although it is too late now,” he said, waving towards the sun that had already ascended.

“Ah well, I do beg your pardon for depriving you of the sight, but I had to ensure my guests had a hearty breakfast. But never mind that, we are all ready now, so let us ride out,” Mr Bingley declared, and the group made their way to their horses.

As they rode, small groups naturally formed, with Elizabeth riding alongside Miss Darcy, Mr Bingley with Mr Darcy and Thomas, whilst Jane found herself riding alongside Miss Bingley. The Hursts remained together, a little further to the right as they were engaged in conversation.

Elizabeth observed with keen attention. Miss Bingley appeared a little more inclined to listen to Jane, now they were riding together and Elizabeth hoped that this would give Miss Bingley a chance to change her opinion about Jane.

Up ahead, she beheld Mr Bingley and Thomas conversing with ease, whilst Mr Darcy seemed to interject only when prompted by Mr Bingley.

Thomas, meanwhile, had no trouble at all entertaining Mr Bingley with whatever it was he spoke of.

The two enjoyed an easy camaraderie that Mr Darcy seemed unable to join.

Why was that? Was he simply too stiff to allow himself some entertainment? Whatever it was, she was glad for Thomas, for Mr Bingley, while aware of his background, chose not to heed what was proper and had formed a genuine friendship.

Her gaze drifted to Mr Darcy again. There was a subtle tension in his posture, a flicker of something akin to jealousy as he watched the easy camaraderie between his friends.

“Might envy truly be the cause of his behaviour? How very ungentlemanly,” she muttered beneath her breath.

“What was that?” Georgiana enquired, turning to her.

“Oh, nothing. I sometimes mumble to myself without knowing what I say,” Elizabeth replied.

“I do as well,” Georgiana responded with an easy smile. “Elizabeth, if I may say so, I am glad you stayed at Netherfield for the night. I had a delightful evening, even if my brother appears perpetually in high dudgeon.”

“He is not as bad as all that,” Elizabeth found herself saying, surprising herself. “We conversed rather pleasantly last night.”

“You did? I am delighted. I do wish Fitzwilliam would be a trifle more open to new acquaintances. He finds it dreadfully hard to converse with those he does not know. But you know this.”

“I do indeed,” she replied, looking at the young woman.

“Your brother informed me he became your guardian at a young age. That must have been quite difficult—to lose your parents so young,” she said, and the young woman looked at her.

“Indeed, it was. But Fitzwilliam has always looked after me as best he can. Though it can be lonely at times, for my brother is always occupied with one thing or another and I am left with none but my attendant as there are no other people my own age at Pemberley,” she admitted.

“When George lived with us, I always had a companion, but he and Fitzwilliam did not get along.”

She wanted to ask her more questions about this topic but found their time cut short when Georgiana turned to her.

“Say, do you mind if I gallop ahead? I adore jumping, and there is a fallen tree yonder that is ideal.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth replied. “Go ahead, although your brother will likely suffer apoplexy when he sees you.”

“Perhaps,” Georgiana replied, “but I shall hope that he will not see,” she called as she galloped ahead, her hair whipping behind her despite having pinned most of it up. Elizabeth smiled as she looked ahead at the group riders and breathed deeply.

It was a beautiful morning, and the sky was as clear as the ocean, with not a single cloud to be seen. She enjoyed being personable and conversing but it had been a long day with much conversation already, as well as a long day the day before, and thus some solitude was welcome.

However, as they rode deeper into the woods, she found herself falling behind the group, taken in by her surroundings. She was familiar with these woods, of course, and thus did not worry.

Alas, as she directed the horse along the brook, a sudden movement from within the bushes spooked Elizabeth’s horse who suddenly reared in fright. Time slowed, and she felt herself losing control; in a dreadful moment, she was thrown from the saddle, landing hard upon the ground.

Pain engulfed her, sharp and immediate, in her ankle as she attempted to rise. Struggling, Elizabeth winced and realised that her horse had run further away.

“Come, Bellevue,” she called for the mare but the horse only trotted further away. The rest of the group was some distance away, and she could no longer see them. She would have to walk, albeit carefully.

She hobbled along, forcing herself forward despite her discomfort. Each moment felt like an eternity, and as she reeled from the pain. Using trees to support herself as she clambered from one to the next, she felt both foolish and frightened. What if she hurt her foot further doing this?

“Miss Elizabeth?” A voice called and then a familiar figure emerged from the trees.

Mr Darcy.

“Miss Elizabeth!” he called, his brow furrowed with concern as he dismounted swiftly.

He approached, scrutinising her with an intensity that made her heart race for reasons she could not easily define.

“I saw your horse wander away riderless a little ahead,” he continued, his voice low yet urgent. “Are you hurt?”

She nodded slightly, her resolve wavering as she glanced down at her injured ankle. “It is nothing serious, truly,” she assured him, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.