Page 38 of To Love And To Cherish (Pride And Prejudice Variation #3)
The road from the estate located on the far side of Dava Moor to Carrbridge stretched almost thirty miles across highland wilderness over rugged, sometimes impassable roads, and their journey was to be made over two days and one night.
The morning they set out, the spring air was cool and dry, the sky a silvery blue, with only the faintest wisp of cloud drifting above the heather-covered hills.
A wind rolled gently over the moor, and though it brought a bite to the air, the sun offered sufficient warmth to make the travel agreeable.
Elizabeth sat in the carriage beside Miss Trent, with Mary King opposite them. Uncle Allister stood waving from the edge of the yard, his old tweed coat flapping in the wind.
"I shall write you as soon as we arrive," Mary called, leaning from the window.
"And I shall expect a full report on the horses!" he called back.
When they could see him no longer, the three women settled into their journey, the road climbing steadily into upland plateau.
"We are travelling through one of the wildest regions of Scotland," Miss Trent said, gazing out the window. "The Cairngorms form the backbone of this landscape. I’ll never get enough of the granite cliffs, or the outcrops that rise like ancient sentinels."
Elizabeth leaned forward and said, “Nor I. I could live here forever. It feels as though the land itself remembers things long forgotten by men."
“Aye,” said Miss Trent. “The forest we are approaching, Abernethy, is cloaked in the ancient Caledonian pinewood. I imagine it is a place of rare and haunting beauty."
Mary King, quiet until now, offered, “The air smells of pine. I like it.”
By the end of the first day, they had crossed wide plateaus where free-standing rocks perched atop sweeping ridges.
They passed the night at a small inn nestled between two ridgelines.
That night, wrapped in warm shawls before the fire, they spoke little and sat in quiet contemplation, their eyes fixed on the flickering flames.
There was a shared sense of expectation, of entering something wholly unfamiliar and wholly thrilling.
The following afternoon, they reached the River Dulnain and the Carrbridge packhorse bridge. The water rushed beneath its single, narrow arch, and the landscape beyond was awash in wildflowers and green foliage.
Elizabeth gasped. "May we stop here? I would so like to sketch the bridge."
Miss Trent agreed at once. They descended, spread their picnic lunch on a flat stone near the river, and Elizabeth took out her sketchbook.
"I wish to remember this precisely as it is," she said, pencil already in hand.
By late evening, the towers of Castle Roy came into view. Pale stone walls rose against the gathering dusk, framed by dark firs and the shadowed outline of mountains to the north.
As their carriage drew near the castle gates, all four Frazier brothers stood in welcome. Adam came forward first, tall and broad-shouldered, with a languid manner and quiet command.
Mary King descended first, then Miss Trent. Elizabeth followed and felt the full measure of his gaze.
"Welcome to Castle Roy," Adam said, his voice low and sure.
Miss Trent introduced each of the ladies, and Adam responded with a slight bow. “You are most welcome here.” He offered his arm to Elizabeth. "Miss Bennet, may I?"
Daniel stepped forward to escort Miss King, while Lucas offered his arm to Miss Trent. They were taken inside for tea and then shown to their rooms.
Elizabeth’s thoughts, upon first seeing Adam, were in tumult.
He was not, strictly speaking, handsome; his features were too austere, but there was an undeniable magnetism about him.
His eyes, dark and piercing, seemed to weigh her in a single glance.
His hair was thick and wavy, his frame strong and well-formed. Altogether, he was very well-looking.
But not like Mr. Darcy, she thought. He was neither so fine-featured nor so handsome or refined. Still… there was a certain magnetism that seemed to emanate from the man.
She was a little in love with Mr. Darcy still, and she knew it.
After tea, they toured the stables, and Adam extended an invitation.
“I hope you will all ride with us tomorrow,” he said.
Elizabeth flushed. “I’m ashamed to admit I do not ride.”
He smiled, the first she had seen from him. “Then I shall teach you.”
Mary King admitted she did not ride either, and Daniel offered to be her tutor.
Miss Trent, however, was proficient, and Lucas invited her to ride through the woods in the morning.
The next day, Miss Trent assisted Elizabeth into her new scarlet riding habit. “You look stunning,” she said with a smile. “Adam will most certainly take notice.”
She cast Elizabeth a knowing look. “In fact, I daresay he already has. He placed you in this very fine, very large room, did he not?”
Elizabeth laughed. “He hardly had time to choose my room, let alone form any such intentions.”
But the room was large and beautiful.
The morning was clear and sharp, with frost still clinging to the grass as Adam came to walk Elizabeth to the stables. The path meandered between the herb garden and the orchard, and Elizabeth found herself both nervous and delighted to be alone in his company.
“You must know,” she said, cheeks flaming, “that I am not only inexperienced, but quite afraid of horses.”
Adam glanced down at her, amusement flickering in his eyes, though his tone was gentle. “Afraid? Why, may I ask?”
Elizabeth sighed. “It is a foolish tale. When I was five, I was a most ill-behaved child. I refused to listen to my papa and mounted a horse on my own. Maisy, our old pony, bolted, and I flew over her head and landed hard on my left arm. I broke it, and I’ve been wary of horses ever since.”
He chuckled. “Then we must remedy that. I have just the horse for you. She is gentle and sweet-tempered. You will love her.”
He called for the stable boy. “Bring Kelpie out.”
A few moments later, a stunning black mare was led from the stables. Her lustrous coat was shiny, her eyes soft, and she approached with ears forward.
Adam took Elizabeth’s hand. “Kelpie, meet Miss Bennet.”
The horse sniffed at Elizabeth’s fingers, then her chest, before stepping closer. Elizabeth stood very still, and Adam spoke softly.
“Let her learn your scent. Horses know more than we give them credit for.”
Elizabeth nodded, mesmerized by the mare’s calm demeanor. When it was time, Adam offered his hands and helped her mount. The side-saddle felt strange and unstable beneath her. Her back was stiff, her balance off, and she gripped the pommel too tightly.
“Relax your seat,” Adam instructed. “You’re too rigid. Think of moving with the horse, not against her.”
She tried, but her left leg kept slipping from its position, and her posture pitched too far to the side.
“The stirrup may need adjustment. Allow me to help you dismount.” He raised his arms, took her by the waist, and lifted her down. After shortening the stirrup, he said, “Miss Bennet, let me mount you again. How is that? Do you still feel as though you are slipping?”
Elizabeth shifted from one side to the other. “No, I feel more secure.”
“Good. The weight must rest through your hips. Shall I lead her?”
“Please,” Elizabeth breathed.
He walked alongside the horse, hand on the bridle, guiding them in slow circles around the paddock. Gradually, her posture eased, and her grip lightened. He praised her small improvements with quiet words, his tone encouraging.
After an hour, he helped her dismount. Elizabeth’s legs, unaccustomed to the exercise, trembled as her boots met the ground, and he placed an arm around her waist and the other on her elbow to help steady her.
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I fear I am a lost cause. Perhaps I should leave well enough alone.”
He laughed, rich and low. “You’ve done very well today. We shall work together again tomorrow. You’ll be riding before the month is out.”
She looked up at him, abashed. “Are you certain I’m not too much trouble? I am a veritable dunce where horses are concerned.”
“You are no such thing,” he said firmly. “And besides, I enjoy your company.”
They walked Kelpie back to the stables, their steps slow, the morning light stretching long shadows across the yard.
As they returned to the house, Elizabeth noticed a half-smile playing on his lips and a light in his eyes that had not been there before. More than once, she caught him looking at her.
And though she told herself not to blush, she blushed all the same
That night at dinner, Miss Trent was seated at Adam’s right, Elizabeth at his left. Conversation flowed easily, with Elizabeth keeping Adam engaged, while Lucas and Marcus spoke animatedly with Miss Trent. Lady Caitrìona and Daniel doted on Mary.
Later, Miss Trent took her place at the pianoforte and played with her customary elegance. When she had finished, Adam turned to Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, would you honor us?”
Elizabeth rose and seated herself at the instrument. She played, and then she sang.
Her voice, a rich, full soprano, filled the hall with haunting beauty. She began with Brown Adam and The Daemon Lover , ballads steeped in sorrow and shadow. Her control, the dramatic intensity of her expression, and the melancholy that colored every phrase held her listeners rapt.
When the final note faded, there was a hush.
“Another, if you please,” Adam said quietly.
Elizabeth obliged. She sang The Flowers of the Forest , her voice plaintive and restrained, then The Elfin King , with its ethereal melody and darker undertones. When she had finished, she returned to her seat, cheeks flushed and eyes lowered, the silence in the hall speaking louder than applause.