She had been looking out of the window when he arrived. Perhaps she would like a bit of time out of doors?
“Miss Bennet,” he said, his voice steady. “Good morning. It is a cold day, but would you be willing to walk with me in the garden?”
Her lips curved into a small, relieved smile. “Certainly, Mr. Darcy.”
“Oh no, Lizzy,” Miss Lydia complained. “I would not like to leave the fire.”
“We shall remain within sight of the window, Miss Lydia,” Mr. Darcy replied. “You need not venture out. Will that do, Mrs. Bennet?”
Mrs. Bennet waved them off, still chattering away about the wedding and the breakfast.
As they left, Darcy caught a brief glimpse of Georgiana moving to another chair nearer Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia to introduce a discussion about London’s latest fashions. Fitzwilliam, meanwhile, had leaned forward in his chair, listening intently to Mrs. Bennet’s enthusiastic account of the wedding breakfast and how her dear Jane and Mr. Bingley were the perfect match. He could hear someone playing the pianoforte in another room. Miss Mary, most likely.
Miss Bennet wrapped her cloak about her while he donned his greatcoat, and they stepped outside. Darcy drew a measured breath as they strolled along the garden path. There was very little to see this time of year, but it still felt better to be out of the crowded drawing room.
“Thank you,” Miss Bennet said, tipping her face up to the sky. “It was becoming quite warm in there.”
“You are welcome,” Darcy said, pleased with himself for judging her wishes correctly. “You have always struck me as someone who prefers fresh air and freedom to overcrowded rooms and . . .” He stopped himself before he said something rude. He closed his eyes. It had taken him precisely half a minute to nearly insult Miss Bennet.
She watched him carefully, a spark of amusement in her eyes. “An astute observation and a politic pause, Mr. Darcy.”
He allowed himself a small sigh of relief. “I do not know what it is about me, Miss Bennet. I find myself in the presence of a woman I wish to impress, and I proceed to do precisely the opposite. If I were a youth, perhaps there would be some excuse, but I am not.”
“I must be quite the formidable woman indeed, to inspire such nerves in a man of your years and stature.” She glanced at him, her eyes nearly twinkling. “I always knew the days after thewedding would be something of a trial, but truly, Mamma means well. It is only that she has at last achieved the first of what she hopes will be five successful matches.”
“Of course,” Darcy murmured, and Miss Elizabeth laughed quietly.
“My mother thrives wherever she can extol the virtues of her daughters and bask in the reflected glory of their success. You should have heard herbeforethe wedding—though perhaps you are fortunate to have escaped that.”
“I am not entirely immune,” Darcy admitted, his smile broadening slightly. “She spent a considerable portion of the wedding breakfast informing me that you are an excellent walker.”
“Ah, so this invitation was meant to demonstrate to Mamma that you were listening?”
He shook his head. “Truthfully? I merely wished to have you to myself for a quarter of an hour before having to share your company.”
Miss Bennet blushed, and Darcy congratulated himself on at last saying something right.
She turned to continue walking, her voice tinged with playful scepticism. “That was rather a flattering statement. Should I fear the delivery of more such compliments?”
“I simply wish to express my gratitude for allowing me this opportunity to know you better. It is not something I take lightly.”
Miss Bennet regarded him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. Then, to his relief, her lips curved into a genuine smile. “You are most welcome, Mr. Darcy. I find myself looking forward to knowing you better as well.”
It was not a declaration, nor even a promise, but a beginning. They continued their walk, the dormant winter garden all about them feeling only a prelude to spring.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elizabeth focused on the backgammon board set between her and Mr. Darcy. She had not expected him to accept her teasing suggestion the day before that they might play, but here he was, his concentration entirely fixed on the game. His intensity amused her, but it also stirred a certain appreciation.
“Do you approach all your endeavours with such dedication?” she inquired lightly as she moved her man.
He glanced up, the barest hint of a smile softening his features. “I have not played since Cambridge, Miss Bennet. I am attempting to make a decent showing.”
Elizabeth arched a brow. “Are you worried I might outwit you?”
“I am always concerned about that,” he replied, reaching for the dice.
Her quiet laugh was overshadowed by a raucous one from across the room, where Colonel Fitzwilliam had clearly charmed Lydia into forgetting any pretence of decorum.
