Page 27 of Elizabeth in Scotland (Elizabeth and Darcy Abroad #2)

After taking a long bath to warm up, Darcy had not yet finished changing into fresh clothes before a footman knocked on his door and announced that Mr Campbell was requesting his presence in the drawing room.

“I shall be there shortly,” he promised, then hurried his valet along to finish tying his cravat

Darcy had not yet regained his equanimity after unexpectedly encountering Elizabeth.

Seeing her had been a jolt. He had ordered the shirt and kilt to patronise the dressmaker’s shop, but had never really given serious thought to wearing the ensemble.

And he had embarrassed Elizabeth terribly — of that, there could be no doubt.

But had there also been something more? Had it been admiration in her eyes — even desire? He dared not think so, but still, the niggling thought chewed at the back of his mind. Was he a fool to hope that she might feel more for him than friendship?

When he entered the drawing room, everyone had gathered, and he felt the sting of embarrassment, though surely no one but Mr Campbell and Elizabeth could know of his adventures in the loch.

“Well, as I have already said, Mr Darcy has solved the second riddle, which puts us at a tie. I will therefore give the final riddle, which I crafted while we waited for the second to be solved, and now we shall see who the new owner of Strathalt House shall be.” Mr Campbell took a moment’s pause to look around the room. “Best of luck to all of you.”

Elizabeth caught her breath quietly. He was sure no one else had noticed, but Darcy noticed, for he had become all too attuned to her.

She stole a look at him, a blush rushing into her cheeks that reminded him inexorably of their meeting that morning.

Gathering his resolve, he nodded encouragement to her.

She looked away, but not before gracing him with an answering nod and a smile that made his heart beat faster.

“Here is the riddle,” Mr Campbell said, calling him back to the present. “When chapman billies leave the street, and drouthy neebors, neebors, meet.”

Darcy frowned, looking at Mr Bennet to see if he had any idea what the riddle might mean. He and the ladies seemed as stumped as Darcy was. He turned to Georgiana.

“My goodness, Mr Chapman,” Georgiana said. “You certainly know how to come up with a riddle. I confess I have no idea what it could mean!”

“Chapman billies? What on earth does that mean?” Elizabeth asked.

“It means ‘pedlar friends’. Someone who sells in a marketplace, I imagine,” Mr Bennet put in.

Mr Campbell cleared his throat. “I do not mean to be rude, but it is probably not wise to discuss the meaning of the riddle with your competitors.”

Darcy looked across the sitting area to where Mr Bennet and his daughter sat. They both looked as sad at that thought as he felt. “Oh, yes, I suppose you are right,” Darcy replied, downcast.

“Yes, that would not be wise,” Elizabeth said softly. She stood, Mr Bennet rising a beat later. “Why do we not part ways for now and discuss our thoughts?” She moved away, and her father followed behind her. “Until supper, then?”

“Yes, see you then,” Georgiana agreed. She shifted on the settee, her head hanging morosely. “It is too bad. I hate to think that our time in Scotland is nearly at an end.”

“Yes, I quite agree with you there,” Darcy replied. Not to see Elizabeth every day…it would be an escape from the knowledge of what he wanted and could not have, but he hardly knew how he would bear it. “Shall we take a walk and think over the riddle?” he suggested.

“I think we should go into town and see if we can find any clues, since Mr Campbell mentioned streets and neighbours. Perhaps it will help us solve the riddle.”

“Very well,” Darcy agreed to the plan, if for no other reason than to be out of the house and away from his distracting thoughts of Elizabeth.

He called for the carriage. It was soon ready and in front of the house.

Georgiana settled into the forward-facing seat, looking out the window as they rode into the village.

“Chapman billies…drouthy neebors. What an odd riddle,” Georgiana said.

She shook her head and turned her attention to him.

“Mr Campbell is an astute man, is he not? I would never have dreamt of coming up with such a riddle.”

“He is at that,” Darcy agreed. “I would go so far as to say that each riddle he has offered us has been more difficult than the last.”

When they arrived in town, Darcy knocked on the roof for the driver to stop, so they might climb down and walk along the streets.

Georgiana looked in high spirits as she stepped down, her broad smile easily showing her excitement for their plan.

He offered her his arm for support, and they walked along together for some time in silence, looking this way and that to see if anything could give them a clue.

Of course, the key would not simply be hidden in the streets, Darcy knew — that would have been far too risky.

But perhaps Georgiana was right, and something in town could help them solve the riddle.

As they passed by the dressmaker’s shop, the owner came out and curtsied, greeting Georgiana warmly.

Though the Georgiana of only a few weeks ago would have stammered and hurried on as quickly as possible, Darcy was surprised to see his sister stop, bow, and engage with the woman.

Better still, her manner showed a degree of ease and friendliness that reminded him equally of the cheerful openness Georgiana had had as a little girl, and the elegant consideration of others that was so entirely Elizabeth.

“Oh, Mrs McGuire, the dresses were delivered just a little while ago, and I am delighted with them. Your craftsmanship is second to none!” Georgiana exclaimed. “Thank you for all of your tireless work and attention to detail.”

“Oh, Miss Darcy, your praise has brightened my day. I am glad you approve. And please, be sure to let me know if any alterations are needed before you depart Scotland.” The woman smiled shyly at Darcy. “I do hope we will see you again in the village.”

“We hope so, too,” Darcy replied. He tipped his hat to the woman, and they went on their way.

Darcy found himself pleasantly surprised by how gracious Georgiana had been with Mrs McGuire.

Only a few short weeks ago, his sister would never have dreamt of stringing together so many words to compliment someone she barely knew.

“I am proud of you, Georgiana. You have overcome your shyness very well over the past weeks. I must congratulate you, sister.”

“It is all Miss Bennet’s doing. She has helped me more than you can know,” Georgiana said. “I am deeply indebted to her.”

“Indeed. We both are. I am pleased you two are developing a friendship.” Darcy patted his sister’s arm. Elizabeth was an incredible woman, and already a valued friend.

Darcy stifled a grimace, knowing that was not quite right.

Indeed, his feelings had grown beyond friendship.

Their meeting in the garden earlier that day had shown him just how much she affected him.

And his heart ached at the thought of leaving Scotland — leaving her.

“She has become a pleasant acquaintance,” he said aloud. “Her father is very agreeable as well.”

“Yes, Mr Bennet is a fine gentleman. But your praise of Miss Bennet is not nearly enough. I do not consider her only an acquaintance, but a dear friend.” She was quiet for a moment.

“I will be very sad to say goodbye when the time comes. I can only hope that Mr Campbell’s riddle stumps us all for a few weeks more.

” She beamed up at him. “Are you sure you have no idea what he could be referring to in the riddle?”

Darcy laughed. “At the moment, I have no notion of what the riddle could mean.”

“Good,” Georgiana said. She gave a satisfied nod and sighed. “Would you give me your blessing to ask Miss Bennet’s permission to write to her when we are forced to part ways?”

Darcy had to measure his speech, so he would not seem too eager. “Of course,” he replied austerely. “I am glad that you have found someone with whom you wish to converse.”

He would be sad to say goodbye to Elizabeth as well. But with any luck, she would keep up a lively correspondence with Georgiana. The connection would not be severed. And Darcy would have a chance to decide what he ought to do.

If it were only a matter of his own feelings, there would be no doubt of his desires. He wished to court her, make her his forever.

If it were only a matter of my own heart, I would speak the wedding vows this instant.

But of course it was not. Darcy could not pretend he was not master of Pemberley, nor that it was not still more a responsibility than a privilege.

He knew very well what his father would have said upon being informed that his heir wished to marry a woman of no dowry or consequence — what his Aunt Catherine and his uncle the Earl of Matlock would say.

And there was another problem standing in the way.

Someone must win the estate, while the other would lose it.

Surely the loser would resent the winner.

And he had promised Georgiana he would try to win it for her.

As they continued down the cobblestone streets, Darcy thought back over all that had transpired since they had arrived.

He had been content before coming to Strathalt House.

At least, he had thought he was. Now, he was keenly aware of what was missing in his life — the woman he would love and cherish as his wife.

Elizabeth was perfect in every respect, save for her family’s lack of standing.

From the time he was a young boy, it had been pounded into him that he must marry well, provide the estate with an heir, and raise the status of the Darcy family.