Darcy looked up and smiled before catching himself. “Yes…Miss de Bourgh. It was. I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to stable Ulysses.”Guard yourself, man! You almost addressed her as Anne.“Rosings has some especially beautiful animals,” he said, turning from her and rubbing the muzzle of the stallion Wickham had returned moments before.
“That is Icarus.”
“Icarus?”
“Yes, he is the son of my uncle Darcy’s favorite—”
“Daedalus,” Darcy finished for her.
“Sir, I am fascinated by how familiar you are with all things Pemberley.”
“Ulysses is sired from the same line as Icarus.”
“What a happy coincidence.” With a tilt of her head, she indicated the path leading to the gardens. “I was hoping to take a turn about the grounds. Will you walk with me?”
“Of course.”
They ambled along speaking of mundane topics, before hitting upon their shared love of books. “I fear you are wanting at the parsonage as Mr. Collins has no library, and therefore very little to occupy your mind at present.”
He laughed. “You are correct, but I have found other ways to occupy my time. I may attempt to visit the bookseller’s this week, although I am uncertain if they will have the book I seek.”
“And what is that?”
“Don Quixote. I, too, feel as if I am on an adventure where things do not make sense. I would find solace in the story and humor inSancho Panza’s irony.”
“Then you must borrow my father’s book. No, I insist,” she said, cutting off his objection. “It is in my father’s study and has not been read in years.”
As they strolled, Anne pointing out places of interest, all of which Darcy knew well: the hermitage, a fountain, a sculpture garden, which began as a maze but was abandoned when his aunt discovered a neighboring estate had one two acres larger.
“You seem pleased with the grounds, sir.”
He nodded appraisingly. “Who would not? It is an impressive estate, and you seem well versed on the running of it.”
“My mother became ill only a year ago, but I had always prepared myself to run my estate. My uncle Darcy felt it was in my interest as I will inherit Rosings, and my betrothed will inherit Matlock House and the earldom. Two estates will take more attention.”
“You are to marry the viscount?” he asked, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Yes.”
“And when is the great event to take place?”
He heard her sniff. “When the time is right for both of us.” They walked a little further before coming to a smallpond, which enjoyed the benefit of the unseasonably warm winter weather. “My uncle Darcy was most attentive to me.”
“Did you know my father also knew both your uncle Darcy and Lady Anne? He spoke of them with fondness. I even visited Pemberley as a child.”
“Georgiana did tell me.” They watched as the ducks waddled around the edge of the water. “I am sure you heard my mother call you George Darcy the other night at dinner, Mr. Fitzroy.”
“I did.”
“I could not understand why at that moment she would recall him to memory. However, over the last few days, I have considered the occurrence. When did you last see my uncle, sir?”
He turned his head and directed his attention out over the pond. “It has been many years. I could not even say I knew what he looked like.”
The sound of geese flying overhead broke the silence between them, as Anne replied, “How interesting. Because you, sir, must see his face every time you turn to your looking glass.”
Darcy had been unsure how to respond, but luckily, they had been interrupted by a servant seeking Anne. He had followed them into the entryway where a footman had showed him to Sir Lewis’s private study. It was there that he was able to think.
What just happened? Did Anne actually hint she believed I was the son of George Darcy?He was uncertain how to proceed with that line of thinking, and instead, foundDon Quixoteexactly where he knew it would be. Finding comfort in the familiar surroundings, he sat on his uncle’s longue. It was the same one he and Richard had been discovered hiding behind as children, having pilfered a tray of hot buns from the kitchen, before their ears were ceremonially boxed, and they were sent to bed with no dinner.
