Page 7

Elizabeth settled onto the log, taking in the view of the countryside. Far in the distance, she saw a lone rider racing over the fields. Considering the direction he was riding from, it had to be one of the gentlemen from Netherfield. At this distance, it was hard to tell which, but she could only imagine one of them racing across the landscape. Mr Bingley seemed too easygoing to race his horse that way.

She considered leaving when it became apparent the rider was heading in her direction. As he closed the distance, her assumption turned out to be correct.

She could not help but take note of his elegant form in the saddle. Unlike some in the neighborhood, he did not look like a sack of potatoes being jostled about as they rode at any speed faster than a walk.

Elizabeth stood and curtsied when he brought his horse to a stop with a gentle pull on the reins and a few clicks of his tongue.

“Mr Darcy, what brings you to Oakham Mount?”

She watched as he gracefully dismounted and let the reins fall. The horse began to look around for something to nibble as his master bowed in return with a greeting before answering.

“I have considered coming here since I arrived. Since this is the first clear morning we have had, I thought I would take advantage of the agreeable weather and spend some time scoping out the lay of the land.”

“Yes, it does have an excellent view of the surroundings. You missed the changing of the leaves, which in my opinion offers the prettiest view. I wish I could paint well enough to capture what it is like, then I could gaze upon it on those days I cannot walk up here.”

“Have you tried to paint it?”

“Several times and all an utter disaster,” she replied with a laugh, her face brightening with amusement. “I had blotches of color all running together. It made the landscape look sad and depressing. Hardly what one wants to look at when forced to stay inside because of bad weather.”

“You could commission a painting.”

“As nice as that would be, I would rather spend my pin money on more practical items. Will you be at the party tonight?”

“Yes, I believe so. Bingley mentioned it last evening. I take it you will be there.”

“Yes. Mother and Lady Lucas are old friends. She would never miss a party if it can be helped.”

“Then I bid you a good morning and see you there.”

Elizabeth watched as he deftly mounted. Turning the animal around, he touched his hat in a final farewell and rode off.

“I have noticed Mr Darcy looking your way several times since he arrived,” Charlotte said as she watched him move about the room.

“Has he? I had not noticed,” Elizabeth replied nonchalantly.

Charlotte leaned close and whispered. “I think that he might be showing some interest in you.”

“Please, Charlotte, your imagination is running rampant today. He would pay me the attention his friend gives Jane if he was interested.”

“Does Jane return Mr Bingley’s interest?”

Charlotte smiled at the look of shock her friend returned to the question.

“Of course she does. Can you not tell? That is a silly question, and you know it.”

“She smiles and listens to him as she does everyone else. If she has any feelings, she should act accordingly. A pretty smile might garner a man’s attention but may not be enough to set the hook. She could learn a thing or two from Lydia.”

“Charlotte Lucas,” Elizabeth exclaimed, astonished at her friend. “She would never act like such a hoyden!”

“Rest easy, Eliza. I did not say she must become like Lydia. Look at Jane now. She smiles and nods at that officer the same way she does with Mr Bingley. A woman must show her affection with more than a smile and the occasional batting of eyelashes.”

“It is not her nature to be so obvious with her emotions. You know she is shy.”

“I would say the same of Mr Darcy. While you are positive of Jane’s affection for Mr Bingley, I’m sure of Mr Darcy’s interest in you.”

“At least you did not say affection. He has a heavy burden to carry right now, and I think he is lonely.”

“A lonely man is more in want of a wife than one with a great fortune.”

“Once again, you astound me. When did you become so romantic?”

“It is not romance, but practicality. With Mr Darcy, you have both,” she said with a laugh.

“If I decide I am in need of a husband, I shall come to you for advice. You are more practical than my mother.”

“Happiness in marriage is not guaranteed. One must look to the practicality of the institution if one is to maintain their own happiness.”

“I know all too well,” Elizabeth replied, looking at her father, who was talking with Colonel Forster. She put her hand on her friend’s arm. “And when did you become so philosophical on matrimony?”

“At my age, with brothers that like to tease,” she said, her voice fading. “It is frequently on my mind of late.”

“Oh, Charlotte, if I had known they would do such a thing, I would have thrashed them harder when we were children.”

“Yes, you were a little wild back then,” she laughed. “Fortunately, you grew out of that phase.” They both laughed and looked around at the crowd. “See, he makes his way to you even if he tries to be inconspicuous about it.”

“There you are wrong,” Elizabeth replied with a slight shake of her head. “I believe he is maneuvering to avoid Miss Bingley.”

Elizabeth watched as he deftly threaded his way through the crowded room. Miss Bingley was not so successful, as the volume of her skirts made her passage awkward. Elizabeth did have to give the woman credit for her determination. She was surprised when the gentleman stopped and took a few minutes to converse with Mrs Long. As Miss Bingley approached, he excused himself. When she drew near, Mrs Long asked Miss Bingley a question compelling her to stop.

“Good evening, ladies,” Darcy said with a clipped bow.

“How are you enjoying the evening so far, Mr Darcy?” Charlotte asked watching as his eyes kept going to her friend.

“It is a welcome distraction.”

“It is rare that your friend talks so animatedly, with…” Elizabeth commented, curious about Miss Bingley’s conversation with Mrs Long.

“With her new neighbors,” Darcy said, finishing her thought. “I suggested that she ask Miss Bingley about the ball she attended recently, as the Prince Regent was in attendance.”

The two women began to discuss the recent spat of parties that the arrival of the new occupants of Netherfield Park and the militia regiment had spawned.

“You do not agree, Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth asked

Darcy focused his attention on her. “To what?” He asked, embarrassed that his woolgathering had meant he had not heard the question.

“To my comment on balls.”

“I beg your pardon. I did not hear what you asked.”

“I thought from your expression that you might have a differing opinion.”

“I do apologize. I was thinking about a family matter. If it were about dancing, I can safely assume that your thoughts were ones of excitement. I have yet to meet a female who did not enjoy any chance to dance.”

“You have met my sister Mary, have you not? She abhors dancing. The only reason she attends these events is in the hope of being asked to play. As much as I love my sister, I admit her musical talent is somewhat lacking.”

“I would not disparage your sister’s musical ability. She makes the effort and is willing to play for the enjoyment of all.”

“You are too kind, Mr Darcy.”

“It is a statement of fact, and your neighbors do not seem to mind. My sister has talent, yet refuses to play for any but a select few. Between the two, who is wasting their talent?”

“Mr Darcy, that is terrible to say about your sister,” Elizabeth declared.

“I did not mean it that way and would not say it to her. There will come a time when she will need to be encouraged if she is to make a good match.”

Elizabeth could not help but giggle. Darcy looked at her curiously and was about to ask what had brought on her mirth.

“I’m sorry, Mr Darcy, I was not laughing at you.” She almost laughed again from the look that came over his face. “It is just that I never imagined brothers worrying about finding a good match for their sister.”

A dark look overcame his countenance, and she immediately realized her mistake.

“I hope I have not offended you?”

He looked away. “No, of course not,” he replied before looking back. “It is the unfortunate circumstances where I find myself.”

“Yes,” she said quietly, looking down at the ground. She looked back up and stepped closer. “I apologize for not thinking before I spoke. Another flaw my mother counts against me. Speaking before, I think things through.”

Darcy looked at her intently. Every woman he knew highlighted their positive attributes and never admitted to any flaws.

“I shall make special note of this day then. To hear of a lady that does not like to dance,” he replied dryly, eliciting smiles of amusement from the two ladies. And one that admits her flaws, he thought.