Page 12 of Moments Frozen in Time (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
“My mother will be displeased with me and perhaps the maid as well,” she said, glancing down at her muddied hem with a rueful smile.
“I try to brush off what I can, but our maid will still have to scrub both the petticoats and the gown. Fortunately, it is an older dress, and I wore it knowing full well it would drag through the mud. Perhaps I ought to behave more like my elder sister and remain indoors in such weather, but I find that a bit of exertion in the morning makes the stillness of the afternoon far more bearable.”
“I could not agree more,” I replied. “At Pemberley, there is ever some matter demanding my attention—be it the ledgers, the inspection of the grounds, or consultations with my steward—though I manage to preserve a little time for leisure. But on visits such as this, the enforced idleness can be… vexing, particularly when my hosts’ notions of amusement bear little resemblance to my own. ”
She regarded me for a moment, and I did my best to remain still under her steady gaze. “I must confess, Mr. Darcy,” she said at last, “that surprises me. You carry yourself with such composure—I would not have expected you to grow as restless as I do.”
“I require occupation,” I replied. “As I mentioned, there is always something to command my attention at my homes. Here, although I do what I can to assist Bingley, there is little to truly engage the mind for much of the day. The library at Netherfield is regrettably limited, and most of the books I brought with me I have already read.”
To my surprise, she laughed at this .
“What do you find amusing?” I asked, tilting my head slightly as I looked at her.
“Forgive me,” she said, still smiling. “It is only that I recall the former master of Netherfield. He and my father would often debate the merits of keeping a personal library. My father has always believed one can never have too many books, but Mr. Pattinson saw things rather differently. It was not that he disliked reading—he read almost as much as Papa—but he rarely kept the volumes he purchased. He either borrowed from the lending library or resold his books once finished, often donating them to the same library.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “A practical system, perhaps, but not one I could adopt. The library at Pemberley has been a product of several generations, and I add to it when I can.”
“No, I did not think you were the type of man who would sell or donate books you have read,” she said, that spark of amusement still in her eyes.
“My father, too, could never part with his collection. His bookroom is filled to overflowing. Mama despairs of it, of course, but he claims it brings him peace.”
“As it should. There is something grounding about a well-stocked library. Even unread books offer a sense of comfort,” I replied, pausing for a moment.
“I will admit that it is an expensive hobby. Whilst I try to be deliberate about my purchases and purchase only those that I think will benefit future generations, sometimes that it not the case.”
She looked at me thoughtfully. “I believe I may begin to understand you a little better, Mr. Darcy.”
The warmth in her tone startled me more than I cared to admit. I wanted to do whatever I could to keep her attention.
We continued to walk around the summit for another half hour or so. When I was in Miss Elizabeth’s company, I barely acknowledged the passage of time. It was she who realised the lateness of the hour and brought it to my attention .
“Miss Elizabeth,” I began, hesitating slightly, “I know you mentioned not wishing to make your mother aware of our acquaintance—though I do hope we are becoming friends—but might I be permitted to accompany you home? I only wish to see you there safely.”
She looked at me with amusement in her eyes. “Mr. Darcy,” she said, “I have lived in this area my entire life and know the paths very well. You do not need to escort me.”
“I know I do not need to,” I replied, “but I would like to. The paths are wet, and there are dangers that lurk not easily seen until you are upon them.”
I could tell from her reaction that she was not displeased by my request, merely amused.
“If you wish, you may escort me as far as the back garden,” she relented at last. “You are correct; I do feel that we have become friends since your arrival. But I would not wish to take advantage of that friendship by alerting my mother to it. Were she to see us together, she would leap to conclusions and begin spreading news of our engagement to everyone she knows. Since I would prefer not to obligate either of us, it is best that Mama remains unaware.”
Despite myself, I laughed. How many ladies had I met who would have leapt at the chance to “obligate” me to them the moment the opportunity arose?
Much as I disliked acknowledging it, I was considered an excellent match.
Miss Bingley, for instance, would seize any such opportunity.
Worse still, I was not yet certain she would not try to compel me into marriage somehow during my stay.
Her brother knew I would not relent, but that did not mean she would not try.
Still, this lady, who would gain so much from marrying me—whose entire family would benefit—was determined not to force a connexion unless it was freely chosen by us both. It made me almost wish that she would choose me.