Page 26

Rather than pleased, she looked slightly downcast. “My brother too is an admirable man,” she put forth tentatively, and then I knew that by admiring the one I had cast aspersions on the other, a slight in my shy new friend’s estimation.

“I am sure he is,” I said in a light, neutral voice because I could not in good faith praise him to the skies.

He had behaved so strangely while in Kent that I began to think of him as a man of unsteady temper.

A handsome man of unsteady temper. For half a minute, I walked along and admired the cut of his coat, the posture of a lean, well-built man with his dark hair curled ever-so-fashionably over a starched and snowy white cravat.

Thinking to distract myself from the object of my helpless fascination and to divert Miss Darcy from my lukewarm approbation of her brother, I then said, “You and I have something in common.”

“Do we?” she asked in surprise.

“Mr Finch.”

“My music master?” she asked, and we then fell into an easy tête-à-tête about musical studies which took us straight to the door of the parsonage.

Darcy

My sister and cousin both warned me against speaking directly to Elizabeth until I was in better odour with the lady.

Circumspection, they said in their own inimitable ways, was required after the hash I had made of my every encounter with her while in Kent.

I wished to tell them of our delectable encounters in Hertfordshire but fell silent upon recalling the final clash in which I had so rudely crushed her pretensions.

Perhaps others knew better than I how to go about repairing the wreckage I had made of a courtship begun unwittingly and largely against my will.

And so, after church—an hour and a half of my life I shall never retrieve from the void—I forced myself to walk with Mrs Annesley as we escorted Elizabeth and her sister to the parsonage.

This was hard labour. I heard Elizabeth speaking lightly with Georgiana and longed to hang back to simply listen to the sound of two women I love in animated conversation.

I tried to focus on Richard and Mary Bennet as they walked ahead of me, speaking pleasantly and at one point, arm in arm as a small rut cut across the path.

Thinking perhaps I could take Elizabeth’s arm, I looked back and saw that she had cajoled Georgiana into jumping the muddy spot together, and once again, I marvelled at Elizabeth Bennet’s delightfully unconventional approach to all things difficult.

I must have her!

This had become a constant howl inside me.

But was it true she did not like me? I had reeled at the implication of my sister’s artless observation, and I grimly recalled how strangely I had behaved in Mrs Collins’s parlour.

Elizabeth would not overlook my failings to marry for material advantages alone.

I could not expect to buy her with my fortune.

She must at least respect and admire me in order to submit herself to the confinement of marriage. I had heard her say so at Netherfield.

My abstracted worrying came to a halt when we reached the parsonage. As we clustered there, Richard spoke up.

“I say, Darcy. Miss Mary has been telling me that she and Miss Elizabeth are also leaving tomorrow. They hope to hire a post coach or to secure tickets on the London mail, but I have been trying to convince her that we could easily take them up.”

“Oh yes!” Georgiana cried. “Pray do come with us.”

I saw the stubborn slant of Elizabeth’s mouth, and I knew what she would say before she spoke.

“We cannot possibly impose.”

Circumspection be damned! I took Elizabeth’s arm and firmly led her a few steps away.

“For once will you let me do something for you? Think! We have six ladies and gentlemen going to London and two coaches in which to do it. For what reason do you insist upon travelling in a third? Besides, I shall not hear of you going on the mail. I forbid it,” I huffed darkly.

“In this I fully intend to be overbearing and officious and every other particularity you hate.”

She raked me with her dangerous look of old—that sharp, amused, admiring twinkle in her eyes. She cocked her head to one side and delicately, deliberately, raised her right eyebrow.

“But what of your valet and Miss Darcy’s maid? Do they not travel with you?”

“They travel separately, of course,” I said, realising too late how spoiled this dismissive answer made me sound.

“You may upbraid me all you like for the privilege, but if you had seen my cousin’s batman—he travels with us as well—you would know why I refuse to sit in a coach with him.

He is over six feet tall, and I do not care to spend the day with my knees intermingled with those of another man. ”

She laughed. “Oh, so I am to acquiesce without demure, am I?”

“Precisely, though I know you dislike my brand of gallantry. If I could offer you passage on a lamb cart, I am sure you would rather, but that option is simply beyond my means. Now, if you please, consider your sister Mary who is staring at you as hopefully as a spaniel in want of a walk and do as I say. Be ready to leave this dark country by first light, madam.” As I spoke my eyes caressed her face, not tenderly, but with ferocious, flaming ardour, and I willed her to submit to my protection.

“I am reminded of you putting me most unwillingly up on your horse, sir,” she said with a slight blush. “But we shall be ready with our trunks on this doorstep. I thank you most sincerely for the trouble.”

I took her hand and said in a low voice close to her ear, “You may only thank me for what you willingly take from me. I would wish you thought better of me, Miss Bennet.”

My heart’s beautiful eyes flew up to mine. Her colour deepened, but she had nothing with which to counter my challenge.

Turning back to her sister, she said, “Well, Mary, it appears we go to London in style with Miss Darcy.” Turning to my sister she added, “And we shall be delighted to enjoy your company.”

Georgiana beamed her happiness, and after we took our leave, we walked into the park in a meandering way.

There was no hurry to return to Rosings, since our party would not sit down to dinner with my aunt.

Later, after our trunks were packed, we feasted on a cold collation and played cards in the library, while Lady Catherine ate with Anne in grim silence.

Black Annis dined on loin of child in the gloomy cavern of her dining room. For the life of me, I could not find a particle of sympathy to spare for her lack of company.