Page 26 of Elizabeth in Scotland (Elizabeth and Darcy Abroad #2)

Her father held up his hand and stood. “I have heard quite enough. It is too much to expect of a poor old father to expect him to listen to drivel about which men his foolish daughter finds most charming. I will leave you to wade through the dull details, Lizzy.” He plodded away, his hands clasped behind his back as he hummed to himself and studied the leaves of the trees.

Elizabeth sighed and went on reading in silence.

∞∞∞

— a certain Mr Wickham who is most charming.

You will like him when you have the opportunity to meet him.

Colonel Forrester is also most agreeable, and I have become great friends with his wife.

She is ever so much fun, and no older than Mary.

Just think, they have not been married a twelvemonth!

There is talk of their travelling on to Brighton later this year.

Mrs Forrester has said she will try to convince the colonel to let me come along and spend the winter there with them. Is that not exciting?

Everything else goes on as usual around the house. Mama has come along with us several times to Meryton. Kitty sends her love. And Mama wonders if you have met any eligible men while you’ve been in Scotland.

Mary is morose as always, sitting at the pianoforte all the day long or spouting readings from her dull books of philosophy.

Be sure to bring us something from Scotland.

Love, Lydia

∞∞∞

Elizabeth shook her head and refolded the letter.

It was just like her youngest sister to be worried about nothing and no one but herself.

Rather than bring comfort, it proved to bring Elizabeth more worry.

If Lydia of all people had had the time to write, even with their busy social schedule, why had Jane not?

Something must be horribly wrong for Jane not to write to her.

Had her letter not made it to Longbourn?

Her worries assailed her until she could not sit still another moment.

Wishing she had her reticule with her so she need not hold on to the letter, Elizabeth rose from the bench and went to amble about the gardens.

This day had had no end of upsets. First, she had come upon Mr Darcy in his state of undress — worse still that she could not honestly characterise her feelings upon seeing him as distress.

In truth, it had been anything but distressing.

She had only found it too difficult to look away.

Too difficult to remember her place and her good sense.

And then Lydia’s letter. A piece of her wished she could travel home immediately and make things right with Jane, though she hardly knew what had gone wrong and needed to be made right.

And a piece of her wished she could stay in Scotland forever.

It was a very different world from the narrow, confined society of Hertfordshire, with all her neighbours knowing everything about her.

Here, it seemed she could have the freedom to be whatever it was she wanted.

Lydia’s letter had reminded her of her mother’s near-constant badgering to find a husband as quickly as possible, regardless of the character of that husband or his suitability to herself.

True, she had met a very eligible young gentleman. But she would never admit that in a letter to her mother, who would try to turn it to the family’s advantage.

Elizabeth was driven out of her gloomy thoughts by the arrival of Miss Darcy, who joined her as she approached the house.

“Miss Bennet, how fortunate you are here,” Miss Darcy said brightly.

She fingered the material of her gown, and Elizabeth recognised it as one of the bolts they had picked out at the dressmakers.

She seemed to want to say more, but seeing the letter in Elizabeth’s hand, turned away.

“Tea will be served soon. But I can see that you are busy.”

“No, I am not busy. I’ve just had a letter from one of my sisters and was taking a short walk. Will you join me the rest of the way back to the house?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, I would like that,” Miss Darcy said and fell into step beside her. “The rest of the dresses were delivered. What do you think of this one?” she asked eagerly.

Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the path and motioned for Miss Darcy to turn so that she might view her from all angles.

“It is breathtaking, Miss Darcy. It really is,” she said, pleased that she might genuinely compliment her friend.

The difference from the gowns Miss Darcy had worn before was striking.

The cut was so much more flattering to the young woman’s figure, while the rich blue silk emphasised her blue eyes.

Its elegance brought out an answering elegance in Miss Darcy, showing how lovely she really was.

“Of course, it would be better suited to a supper party or an evening event, given the darkness of the colour. But it complements your complexion nicely.”

“Yes, I remember you said more muted colours were appropriate for the morning and afternoons, and deeper shades for the evenings. Shall I change before tea, do you think?”

“No, not at all. I am sure your brother will want to see you in it before you change.” Elizabeth’s mention of Mr Darcy brought up the untidy, tangled emotions she had been trying to forget since she had stumbled upon him a little while ago. Would she never be rid of him?

Not only that, did she want to be rid of him? Elizabeth was all too afraid she knew the answer.

“Yes, I am sure you are right. You do not think it will be too presumptuous of me to arrive at tea dressed like this — I mean, in front of Mr Campbell and your father?” Miss Darcy wrung her hands. Elizabeth’s heart went out to her. She was always so afraid of doing anything that might offend.

“No, indeed not,” Elizabeth assured her. “Mr Campbell will not be offended, and my father is not likely to notice. Forgive him, but he does not put much stock in clothing.”

Miss Darcy laughed. “That is just as well. You would think with five daughters he would be forced to hear all about the latest fashions and things of the sort.”

“Yes, one would think that, wouldn’t they?” Elizabeth asked with a short laugh. “Poor Papa. I think he will be glad to have a son-in-law when the time comes.”

“Are you engaged, Miss Bennet?” she asked, excitement tinging her voice.

“No, I have never even been close to being engaged,” Elizabeth admitted.

She felt her cheeks heat with the memory of seeing Mr Darcy’s chest in the open collar of his shirt and tried to make herself think of anything else.

“Someday, when the right man comes along, I shall be happy to give my heart to him. But until then, I am content to live as I have done.”

“You are sure to be married soon, Miss Bennet. You are so pretty and charming,” Miss Darcy said, huffing as they climbed the terrace steps and started toward the doors that would let them into the drawing room. “I do not think I shall ever find a gentleman willing to marry me.”

“Do not say such things.” Elizabeth gave her a stern look, though she followed it with a warm smile. “You are young yet. Do not take yourself out of the running so soon.”

“Well, now that I have had your help in overcoming my shyness a little, I have better chances, I will admit.” Miss Darcy opened the door, and they went inside together. Mr Campbell was already there. The tea service was also waiting, steam curling from the kettle’s spout.

“Ah, ladies, please join me. I have an announcement to make,” he said. “We will just wait for Mr Bennet and Mr Darcy, and then we can begin.”

But Miss Darcy could not wait. “Has someone solved the second riddle?” she asked eagerly.

Just then, Elizabeth’s father entered, and he sat down. “Good afternoon, everyone. I look forward to hearing the rest of the story. My daughter has informed me that Mr Darcy has outdone me, but nothing more.”

“Yes, well, I suppose it would not hurt to tell you all now. Mr Darcy will still be getting changed after his bath, I imagine,” Mr Campbell said, more to himself than the assembled company.

“Mr Darcy has solved the second riddle and brought me the cellar key.” He beamed at Miss Darcy.

“I must congratulate you,” he said to her with a small bow.

Elizabeth glanced at her father, who could not entirely hide his disappointment. He took it like a dignified gentleman, though, and for that, she was grateful and proud. No matter what happened, the Bennets would maintain their pride.

“What do you mean, my brother was likely still changing?” Miss Darcy asked.

“Well, it is very comical, but I do not know if Mr Darcy would want me to say —”

“He will not mind,” Miss Darcy interrupted. “What happened?”

Mr Campbell went on, albeit a little hesitantly. “Well, you all know the riddle,” he said.

“By heart,” Mr Bennet said rather dryly.

“Yes, well, it was from a line in ‘The Lady of the Lake’ by Sir Walter Scott —”

“Sir Walter Scott!” Mr Bennet exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the arm of the chair. “I should have known!”

“Indeed, well, I admit it was a difficult one. I was unsure if everyone here would have read the poem, since it came out only two years ago. At any rate, I left out a line in the middle of the riddle, and Mr Darcy put it together. I had hidden the key inside a metal chest at the bottom of the loch.”

Elizabeth understood now why he had been all wet.

Miss Darcy pressed a hand to her cheek in shock. “And he fell in trying to get it?” she asked, concern etching her face.

“Not exactly. He dived in and retrieved it. I happened upon him by chance and saw to it that he had a change of clothes, so he would not catch his death. The loch is always frigid, no matter if it is summer or winter.”

Elizabeth had to admire Mr Darcy’s determination to win the contest. Less young and vigorous than Mr Darcy, her father could not have dived into the loch to retrieve the chest, which seemed a little unfair on Mr Campbell’s part.

But as her father had not even solved the riddle, she could hardly protest. “And so you’ve gathered us here to give us the final riddle? ” Elizabeth asked, her heart sinking.

Mr Campbell nodded. “As soon as Mr Darcy arrives, I shall tell you all.”

The rest of the company continued to talk and ask questions, but Elizabeth did not have the heart to join in.

With the last riddle about to be given, she and her father might find themselves ready to depart Strathalt House within a few days.

The thought saddened her. Not only would she be forced to leave this wonderful place and the friendship deepening between her and Miss Darcy, but she would be parted from Mr Darcy.

To him, surely, it would be nothing. Only the loss of a chance friendship of short duration. But to Elizabeth, it would be something more.

She very much feared it would be everything.