Page 15

She lurched, and he made to adjust her in his arms. Yes, he had threatened to drop her in the stream, but he had not intended to actually do it! As he attempted to keep her from falling, the heel of his boot caught something in the water, and he plummeted backwards onto his rear end .

Water splashed around them, and when it settled, he was sitting in the stream, the frigid water rushing by as it travelled to who knows where. Meanwhile, Elizabeth sat in his lap. Her eyes were impossibly wide as she gaped at him. Was she angry? What if she would not forgive him?

She continued to stare for a moment until she burst into peals of laughter. “I believe that did not end up as you had hoped.”

“No, I had not planned on either of us becoming wet.” He glanced over her and grinned at her amusement. “Are you well?”

“I am. You cushioned my fall quite nicely. I thank you.”

Elizabeth lifted from his lap and held out her hand. He took it, and she leaned back as he made to stand, but his foot would not budge, and he tipped sideways, taking her back down into the water with him.

“Are you always so clumsy, Mr. Darcy?”

“No, but I believe my foot is wedged.” He dipped his hand down by his boot and, with a push to a couple of rocks, managed to free his boot. When he stood, he helped Elizabeth rise.

“Forgive me. I should not have attempted to tickle you while holding you over the stream.”

Her head tilted ever-so-slightly. “You are so serious. I enjoy a good mishap as long as no one is injured. I confess to being cold now, but I was diverted by what occurred. You are so stiff most of the time. I am glad to know you possess the ability to tease as well.”

“You are?”

She looked about them. “I need to return to Longbourn, but I have not reinforced Herne’s protection spell.”

“When was the last time you did so?” Such a charm should last until countered, yet she always ensured the magic was cast anew whenever she visited the forest.

“With the slight rain yesterday, we did not meet, so two days have passed. I know the spell should be indefinite, but I do not leave his safety to chance. I always make certain he is protected before I return home.”

He took in her bedraggled gown. “He cannot be far.” They should not tarry. While his great coat and buckskin breeches helped keep him dry, her coat had offered no such protection.

She placed her hands on her pelisse and closed her eyes. Water poured from the wool and the muslin peeking from underneath onto the ground below. After the drips became few and far between, she opened her eyes.

“That should keep my gowns from weighing me down.”

“You pushed the water from the fabric.” Why had he stated the obvious?

“Of course. The elements are always easier to handle than create. Do you not prefer to manage them in the same manner?” While not completely effective, her solution would at least help her gown to dry quicker than it would have otherwise. He admired her cleverness more and more every day.

“Yes, I do. Drawing enough energy from the earth to create fire is more fatiguing as well.”

“Exactly. Now, as for Herne, he has followed us more often than not. I am surprised he has not appeared as yet.”

She made a valid point. The stag could not be far. “Then we should make our way back to the stones.”

At his suggestion, they walked as though returning to the clearing, but about half-way to the stones, Herne snorted and stepped closer as they approached the great beast.

“Forgive me, my friend,” said Elizabeth. She placed her hand on the creature’s forehead. A glow emanated from where her palm met the stag’s fur for a moment before she stroked down to his nose. “We shall see you on the morrow.”

Herne tossed his head as though nodding. The animal did not understand, did he ?

Elizabeth smiled, and he offered her his elbow. They ambled back out of the forest.

“You did not ride Hen this morning?”

“No, I felt the need to stretch my legs. If he is restless, I shall take him on a good run before the sun sets. When I departed, he was tucking into the oats and hay the groom had given him.”

“It sounds as though he is being spoilt.”

Fitzwilliam laughed. “He was this morning. I spoke to the groom who fed him earlier than usual, asking him to wait until after my ride tomorrow.” He glanced up at the sun, which was higher than he would prefer for his return to Netherfield.

“We should both depart. Papa will worry if I am too late, and your hosts will wonder at your tardiness as well.”

“Will your father join us tomorrow?” The gentleman’s absence had been a surprise when Elizabeth arrived this morning.

She stepped away from him and put on her gloves.

She commonly removed them when they were in Oakham Forest. “I believe he has decided we know what we should, and his presence is not necessary for us to perfect our skills. He has not said as much, but it would be quite like my father. He is, no doubt, sitting in his library reading as is his wont.”

“I see. Then I shall meet you here in the morning.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Good day, Elizabeth.”

Her eyebrows gave a slight jump at his boldness, but she did not rebuke him for his familiarity.

He took two paces backwards before turning and starting for Netherfield.

He hazarded a glance over his shoulder, which revealed her travelling towards Longbourn.

She peered over her own shoulder at the same time, her cheeks turning pink before she returned her attention to the path ahead of her.

The remainder of the journey to Netherfield was pleasant.

The breeze was cool, but the birds chirped as he made his way between the new fields of winter wheat that had been sown last month.

The young plants had just peeked through the earth, but they appeared healthy and would grow tall before providing their harvest in late summer or early autumn of next year.

When he entered the house, the peace of the morning was quickly shattered by the strident tones of Miss Bingley. Fitzwilliam grimaced.

“He is your friend! Why do you not know where he has gone? According to the stablemaster, he was on foot. He cannot have walked far.”

“Caroline, he is his own master and does not require me to be his mother. He can come and go as he chooses, and he need not tell me nor you where he spends his time.”

“How is he to marry me if he does not pass any of his days with me?”

Fitzwilliam paused outside of the drawing room. The cracked door allowed all that was said to be heard with ease from the hall.

Bingley groaned. “I have told you over and over that Darcy’s parents arranged a marriage for him. He is intent on following through with that match—”

“He does not need an arranged marriage. He can marry me.”

“Caroline,” said Bingley on a heavy exhale. “His parents and the parents of this young lady likely made a magical contract—a binding agreement that cannot be broken without the consent of both parties and a counterspell—”

With a steady hand, Fitzwilliam pushed open the door.

“Which I have no intention of doing. I have spoken to the young lady and her parents. They are intent on seeing the contract through.” His claim was not quite a lie.

Besides, Elizabeth had allowed him to kiss her this morning.

That had to mean something, did it not? “Pray, find a gentleman who wants you and accept his proposal. You will receive no such attention from me. ”

Miss Bingley gave a screech and rushed from the room. A crash came from the hall, making them jump.

Bingley peeked through the door. “She shattered a figurine on that table against the wall.” He sighed. “I believe that belonged to Louisa. She will not be pleased.”

“I thank you for attempting to control your sister’s schemes. I am to wed before the solstice, and I shall not allow her to ruin my plans.”

His friend clapped him on the shoulder. “I understand. If need be, I shall send her to Scarborough. My aunt will be furious for the inconvenience, but she manages Caroline better than anyone in our family ever has.” He clapped his hands together with an expectant look.

“Now, enough of my pest of a sister. What part of estate management shall we discuss today?”