“And this man Lydia wants as her husband?” Elizabeth cried out in frustration, pounding her fists through the air. She was not really expecting an answer.
His silence was answer enough.
Finally, Darcy asked, “Do you mind if we speak of other, more pleasant things?”
“Oh, yes!” Elizabeth exclaimed, and the two continued walking. “Please allow me to tell you how much I appreciate you arranging for my travels to London in your carriage. It was most comfortable, and I truly enjoyed Anna’s company on the journey.”
“I am pleased. Georgiana knows her well and thought she would make a good travelling companion for you.”
“Thank you also for the books. We enjoyed reading from them as we journeyed, helping the time to pass more quickly. That was very kind of you. I really did not expect…”
He nodded and waved his hand through the air. “It was nothing.”
When Elizabeth peered up at him, she noticed his pinched brow and tightly pursed lips, a sure indication of the awkwardness he was feeling, likely due to all her praise. She decided to leave the topic of their next discourse to him.
He finally spoke. “The first morning you were at the Ketterlings, I had no knowledge of your departure. I thought… I had hoped you might walk up to the ridge…”
“In my mud boots?” she said with a mischievous smile, hoping to ease his discomfiture.
“Yes, in your mud boots,” he replied as he brought his hands together and nervously rubbed his fingers. “I wished to show you something.”
“The sunrise? I remember.”
He shook his head. “There was something else.”
Elizabeth stopped and turned to look at him. “What was that?”
Darcy looked toward Jane and Bingley, who were now slowly walking back toward them. “There is a house and some land that is for sale. It is on the other side of the ridge. When you encountered me that first morning, I had just come from viewing it from up there.” He moistened his lips and paused. “I thought it would be a good home for Bingley and his new bride. I wished to know your opinion of it.”
Elizabeth’s brows rose as high as her jaw dropped. “You wished to know my opinion?”
“I know the view of the estate from up there was somewhat limited; however, I believed you would have had an idea whether your sister would be pleased with it.”
“Have you mentioned it to Mr. Bingley?”
“Yes, we leave first thing in the morning for Derbyshire. He wishes to see it.”
“And will he make his decision on his own?”
Darcy skewered his mouth. “You mean without my interference?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Or perhaps I was wondering whether he would seek my sister’s input.”
“I promise you the decision will be totally, completely in his hands, but…” Darcy took a deep breath and Elizabeth waited for him to let it out. “If he asks for my advice, I will certainly give it.”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “Indeed, I am quite certain he will… as will you.”
Darcy’s demeanour grew serious. “I wondered whether you… I mean, I thought you might… reside with them once they are settled. You no longer have a need to be a governess.”
“This is not something Jane and I have even discussed. Perhaps Lydia would want me to live with them.” A twinkle in her eye as she glanced up at Mr. Darcy was met by the darkening of his own. “Then again, perhaps not,” she quickly added.
He was silent for a moment, and Elizabeth wondered if her teasing had angered him. She promptly reassured him, “If Mr. Bingley and Jane did invite me to live with them, that would certainly be my preference.”
“I thought so. I hoped so.” Darcy fisted and then opened his hands, stretching his fingers taut. After a brief moment of silence, he stopped walking and turned toward Elizabeth. “I wished to know how you felt… about them living so close to Pemberley… given the prospect of living with them.”
Elizabeth searched his eyes. Her heart pounded as she contemplated what he wished to know. Was he concerned that she would not wish to live so close to him? Or did he hope she did?
She could not immediately think of an appropriate answer, so she asked a question. “Just how close is it to Pemberley?”
“Well, that is no easy answer. If you wish it to be close, it is merely a three-mile walk from the top of the ridge down to the edge of their property. Or if you prefer, it is a gruelling fifteen miles by carriage as you have to drive out through the woods, cross a river, and then proceed around the ridge.”
Elizabeth laughed, her heart still pounding. The deliberations of her answer, however, were interrupted by the return of Mr. Bingley and Jane.
Jane’s arm was tucked so intimately through Bingley’s that Elizabeth felt a tinge of jealousy. How she would love to wrap her arm through Mr. Darcy’s in similar fashion.
“Have you heard about the house, Lizzy? Has Mr. Darcy told you?”
“Only the barest of details. I know it resides either three miles or fifteen miles from Pemberley, depending upon your mode of transportation.”
“I think it sounds wonderful, Lizzy. You will come and live with us, I hope. It is a big enough home. You can have your own apartment.”
Elizabeth cast her eyes to Mr. Bingley, who seemed to be in hearty agreement. “I can barely contain myself with this news Darcy brought. Imagine us being his neighbour! I am inclined to take the house sight unseen, based on Darcy’s encouragement!”
Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy, who displayed an awkward smile. He put up his hands in protest. “Now, Bingley, I have merely told you what I thought. You must decide for yourself!”
“Have you ever steered me wrong, good friend?” Bingley asked.
To Elizabeth, the silence was deafening. She was quite certain Darcy’s thoughts—as hers—went to the advice he had once given his friend about Jane. That seemed so very long ago.
Elizabeth saw the admiration in both Jane’s and Bingley’s faces as they looked at Mr. Darcy. He, however, had paled, his eyes cast down in remorse. Elizabeth was convinced he was about to confess his grievous fault in front of them all. There was no need to announce it now!
Without thinking, she tightened her fingers around Darcy’s arm, and before he could utter a word she said, “Tell us about the house as we walk back, Mr. Darcy. I should like to hear all about it.” She encouraged him with a nod of her head.
Darcy tenderly took her hand in his and gave it a gentle tug, pulling her arm farther through his, securing it against him. He then placed his other hand over hers. How often had Elizabeth taken a gentleman’s arm, but this time it prompted a warm flush to sweep across her face, sending a shiver that reached all the way to her toes. He held onto her hand as if he feared she would be snatched away.
She lifted her eyes and met his. All trace of the fatigue and frustration she had seen earlier in his features had been replaced by a look of tenderness. She rewarded him with a smile.
“Come, now!” exclaimed Bingley. “We are waiting.”
Darcy looked at his friend. “Waiting?” he said, apparently unmindful of the previous discussion.
A nudge from Elizabeth and a soft, “You were about to tell us about the house,” brought him to his senses.
They began to walk, and he proceeded to tell them what he recollected about Braedenthorn Manor. It was of moderate size, in very good condition; the living quarters were all quite spacious, the downstairs sitting room and library were small, but the dining room and kitchen were recently remodelled and expansive. The gardens had not been maintained, but the roads leading into it were.
It required much concentration for Elizabeth to tend to his words, particularly when his fingers entwined with hers. Jane and Mr. Bingley conveniently walked ahead of them, and when they looked back to better hear Mr. Darcy’s words, they were so enthralled with his descriptions that they did not notice how tenderly he held her hand, nor did they notice the warm blush upon Elizabeth’s cheeks.