Page 18 of Elizabeth in Scotland (Elizabeth and Darcy Abroad #2)

Mr Campbell chuckled low. “I am not sure one way or the other, Mr Darcy. In any case, it is said that the best time to see the Loch Ness Monster is in the early morning. At least, that is when most people claim to have seen her.” He turned to Miss Darcy.

“If you’ve a mind to see her, you could easily take a carriage to the other side of the loch.

That is where most sightings take place. ”

“Oh, may we go, Fitz?” Miss Darcy exclaimed.

Mr Darcy looked surprised, but not opposed to the idea. “I suppose we may, if you like. I see no harm in the idea.”

“You would do well to get an early start. I can have the carriage ready to depart for you at six in the morning, if you wish,” Mr Campbell offered.

Her father blew out a breath and shook his head. “That is too early in the morning to chase a legend,” he said. “I agree with Mr Darcy. Surely Nessie is as mythical as the unicorn.”

“Your comparison is very apt, Mr Bennet. Did you know the unicorn is the symbol of Scotland?” Mr Campbell asked.

“I did. I believe Scotland has an affinity for the mythical and fantastic,” Mr Bennet said with a smile.

“We do indeed. Perhaps it would be best to say that Nessie is as mythical as kelpies and selkies, though, since they are also water-dwelling creatures.”

Mr Bennet chuckled. “Indeed, you are right.”

Miss Darcy looked between the men a little uneasily, as though she thought her brother might withdraw his permission.

She spoke up timidly. “I do not think it would be a waste of time, do you, Fitz? If nothing comes of looking for Nessie, we may still be the audience to a beautiful sunrise.” She looked eagerly at her brother for his approval. “Can we go?”

“Of course, we may,” Mr Darcy agreed.

Miss Darcy let out a squeal of delight. “Oh, thank you! Miss Bennet, will you join us?”

Elizabeth was struck silent for a moment.

If her father would not go, it would be improper for her to accompany the brother and sister.

The unmarried Mr Darcy was a suitable escort for his own sister, but certainly not for her.

“Thank you, but I do not think it would be quite proper for me to go, if I am not accompanied by my father.” She shifted uncomfortably, hating that she must refuse both for her own sake, and for the set-down that she would be giving Miss Darcy.

“Are you sure you will not reconsider, Papa?”

Her father shook his head. “No, my dear. I am an old man now. My bones are too old to be out in the cold, misty air that early.” He looked to Mr Darcy. “If you are willing, Mr Darcy, I give my blessing for Elizabeth to accompany you and your sister.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat. Obviously, her father had spoken without realising what a compromising position this could place her in. His suggestion was hardly appropriate.

“I should be honoured,” Mr Darcy said politely, yet his expression eloquently spoke his unease.

Where her father might be oblivious, Mr Darcy certainly was not.

Yet he had accepted, obviously not wishing to embarrass her.

Then too, likely he wanted Georgiana to have her chosen companion.

Perhaps he even spared a thought for her own obvious wish to come, though that was perhaps too much to expect.

Nonetheless, it was kind of him — very kind indeed.

“Well, then, you should go, Lizzy. And take along a sketchbook in case you see anything, so you can bring it back to show me.” Her father’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

Thankfully, Mr Campbell diffused some of the awkwardness by sharing the second riddle. “Now, are you ready to hear the second clue as to where the cellar key has been hidden?” he asked.

Everyone leant forward in anticipation. Mr Campbell did not toy with their nerves, but immediately recited in a clear, ringing voice.

“Nor nearer might the dogs attain,

Nor farther might the quarry strain,

Between the precipice and brake

O’er stock and rock their race they take.”

Mr Campbell sat back, waiting for the words to sink in.

Upon seeing all their puzzled faces, he grinned in satisfaction.

Her father’s brow furrowed as he mused over the riddle.

“I congratulate you, Mr Campbell. I shall have to think on this for some time, I think. Would you be willing to write down the riddle for us?”

“Certainly. I will do that now,” he said, rose from his chair, and put his teacup on the sideboard.

Elizabeth’s mind flickered with faint recognition of the words, but she could not place them.

She knew it was from a poem, but she had read thousands of sonnets in her lifetime.

Yet she must remember — she must. If she could only help her father solve this riddle, he would have solved two of the three, and they would be sure of inheriting Strathalt House, safe from the hedgerows forever.

Suddenly, Elizabeth realised that solving the riddle would not be an unmixed joy, for it would also mean they would depart all the sooner.

From the first moments of her arrival, Scotland had cast a spell over her.

She was loath to leave too quickly. Then too, there was Miss Darcy.

Both for the pleasure of her company and for the hope of doing her some good, Elizabeth would rather remain a while longer.

Even Mr Darcy had proven to have hidden depths.

Their first meeting had been anything but propitious.

Yet each subsequent meeting had shown her more to like and respect in him.

He was a caring brother, an intelligent man, a person of great depth.

He, too, would prove difficult to part from when the time came — though she hardly knew why.

Miss Darcy turned to her then, eyes dancing.

“I ought to be thinking of the riddle, I am sure, but I find I can think of nothing but our expedition tomorrow! Do you think we will see the Loch Ness Monster? I will bring my sketchbook, too, and perhaps between the two of us, we can capture a good likeness.”

“Oh, do you draw?” Elizabeth asked. “I confess I have never been good at it. Please, why do we not leave the artistry to you, and I shall be a lookout?” she suggested. “You are certainly possessed of a great many accomplishments.”

“Thank you,” Miss Darcy said shyly. “My brother has always encouraged me in my endeavours, and it does not hurt that I enjoy creative expression.” She looked across the sitting area to where her brother and Mr Bennet were visiting.

“Indeed. I wish I were more creatively inclined, but alas, I seem to enjoy experiencing other people’s creativity more than attempting my own. Though I have thought about trying my hand at writing a short story or novel of my own. I have been very inspired since coming to Scotland.”

“Oh, I would be most interested to read what you have written so far. What is the story about?” Miss Darcy asked.

Elizabeth smiled. “I only have a few thoughts jotted down. But I will show them to you as soon as I have some kind of direction. And may I say, that was very well done, as far as engaging someone in conversation.”

Miss Darcy blushed under her praise. “I did say I would try my best,” she said. “I know I have a lot to learn, but I am so thankful for your willingness to help me.”

Suddenly, she felt someone’s eyes on her.

Elizabeth glanced across the sitting area and saw that Mr Darcy was watching her.

Had he heard their conversation? And how would he feel about her revelation that she was writing?

A woman-novelist was unheard of in polite circles, as a woman’s income should come from a husband and not from her own toils.

It was very common indeed for a woman to work for her own provision.

Elizabeth could not interpret the look in his eyes.

At the thought that they would be nearly alone the next morning, with only Miss Darcy as a chaperone, nervousness shuddered all through her.

She was excited at the prospect of an adventure and seeing Nessie, yet there was something more.

She wondered at the confusing feelings blooming in her middle.

It was not for Mr Darcy, surely. For all she had come to respect him since their disastrous first meeting, it would be folly to think there could be anything more between them.

Mr Darcy was not the man for her. And even if he were, it would be the utmost arrogance to think that she would be of any interest to him.