I stirred, tamping down unreasonable pique. However disappointed, I could not ignore the sweet reminder of friendship restored in Mr. Darcy’s unexpected call. “How perfectly delightful!” I summoned my most eloquent smile for the visitors. “Fresh air and fine prospects sound just the thing for such a summer day. What do you say, Aunt? Might we accept for just a brief turnout?”
I saw the hesitation writ clearly in my aunt’s dark eyes, her quickly masked dismay at this probable overture she had vainly hoped to discourage. But true hospitality demanded a gracious concession now in the face of such unlooked-for attentions. Aunt Gardiner pressed her lips together, clearly wrestling etiquette against protective care. But at length, she offered a gracious nod. “Just briefly, mind. We have not a chaperone if you go far.” Her glance at me entreated me not to misuse her fragile trust.
Darcy stirred, drawing himself up decisively. “I assure you, Madam, we shall not keep them past appropriate bounds.” His steady gaze caught mine, flickering oddly. “Some ties cannot in honor be ignored whatever the passage of years. I… I would make amends for… past deficiencies.”
My eyes prickled inexplicably at his solemn assurance. Yes! Surely, time would reveal all in due course. Until then, I must seize happiness where offered. I grasped Jane’s hand and smiled sweetly up at Mr. Darcy’s grave features. “Then please lead on, kind sirs! What fair prospects await discovery?”
I allowed Mr. Darcy’s steady hand to assist me up into the phaeton’s plush seat. I was to sit beside him in the front—naturally, I suppose, for that left Jane free to join Mr. Bingley in the rear. The phaeton’s owner soon joined me and took the reins with easy confidence. I eased back against rich leather as we turned in a wide arc back down the drive, stealing occasional sidelong glances at my companion.
My few encounters with Fitzwilliam Darcy, the grown man, had taught me to think him still as serious and devoted to practicality and duty as he had ever been in his youth. But this, a leisurely jaunt through the countryside on a fine day in such a carriage and drawn by such a fine pair of grays? Surely, carriage rides in my childhood never boasted such style. He almost seemed as if he were trying to enjoy himself, or impress me. How very unlike the Fitzwilliam I once knew!
“You have quite the turn for speed, I see!” I laughed at last as the grays’ gaits swung into a ground-eating stride that made the light phaeton sway thrillingly. “Do your horses set the pace, or their master?”
One dark brow quirked, though Mr. Darcy kept his eyes decisively forward. “I confess some eagerness to be off before second thoughts could arise. But have no fear. Your aunt’s injunction against questionable jaunts shall be respected.” His sober gaze cut briefly sideways. “I would not risk Mrs. Gardiner’s displeasure, but I am glad fortune brought us by your door today.”
My breath caught oddly at his oblique earnestness. Impulsively, I laid a light hand on his sleeve. “I rejoice no less in this happy accident, Sir. Truly.”
Something eased subtly in the set of his shoulders, though he replied lightly. “An accident indeed, as I had thought to show Bingley some lesser-known local attractions nearby.” His eyes glinted teasingly. “Unless the admirable Miss Bennet manages to monopolize his interest today?”
I laughed aloud, dizzy with this unexpected sunny humor. When had Fitzwilliam ever jested like that? “See how well you claim to know us after so little renewed acquaintance! I cannot answer for Mr. Bingley or Jane, but I am all curiosity. Which lesser-known sights do you intend to impress us with, then?”
“Ah, but you mistake me. The only impressions that interest me today are those you ladies convey.” His smile turned abruptly introspective. “Although I did hear recently of a small estate called Southgate Park just beyond Lambton.”
I shook my head. “Southgate? And it is an estate? What road is it on?”
He glanced at me with an oddly piercing look. “The name means nothing to you?”
I spread my guileless hands wide, chuckling. “Very little penetrated my juvenile consciousness, I fear. Derbyshire itself seems half a dream, save what fragments my memory nurtured all these years.” I tilted my head, studying his pensive features. “Southgate, you say? It is quite close, then?”
His hooded eyes skated away across the wild heather. “Within easy reach when needs must. And I do not rightly know how large the house is, whether it is more an estate or a gentle farm. However...” His smile turned determinedly bright. “My steward advised me that there is a fair prospect from there for looking on the mountains, as well as a field and stream perfect for picnicking. We have a hamper of cook’s best and the whole of the afternoon—or, as much of it as you dare, passing with two gentlemen while your aunt awaits you.”
Webowledalongsmoothlyfor nearly half an hour, chattering about our favorite local haunts and childhood adventures beneath Derbyshire’s brooding crags. Well,Iwas doing most of the “chattering” because I could not seem to settle my nerves under Fitzwilliam’s steady gaze. I was in the midst of recounting a favorite secluded forest glen when he suddenly checked the grays, his attention fixed on something ahead.
“And here we have it—Southgate Park in all its modest glory.” He slanted an inscrutable look my way. “The very place I mentioned earlier. I thought we might pause to admire it.”
I leaned forward, eager for my first glimpse at this hitherto unknown neighborhood gem. What we beheld as the phaeton turned off the main road, however, was no breathtaking model of architecture and groundskeeping. Instead, a pleasant gentleman’s residence of modest red brick sprawled comfortably beneath the sheltering wing of a fine old oak. Its sleepy air spoke more of unhurried country life than noble entertainments.
“What a perfectly charming house!” Jane offered politely behind us. “It looks so peaceful there.”
“It does, indeed!” Mr. Bingley hastened to concur. “Although I wonder that such a handsome place does not seem to be occupied. Should we not see signs of servants at work?”
I glanced reflexively back at Mr. Darcy, arrested by the peculiar expression hovering over his usually inscrutable features. At Bingley’s artless query, however, he rearranged himself back to polite interest.
“Just so. My own reaction upon first hearing of it. But these things do occur—properties changing hands or held in trust for distant relations yet to take possession.” His casual tone convinced no one, but Bingley let the matter pass without further comment.
I resettled myself, glancing approvingly over the mellow golden stone aglow in the glaring afternoon light. Whoever eventually took up residence here would be blessed, indeed. My gaze caught on an arching footbridge just visible behind a stand of drooping willows.
“Oh! Is that not the prettiest little bridge over the stream?” I leaned my head playfully onto Fitzwilliam’s shoulder, just as I used to do before he became all “Master of Pemberley.” He didn’t even flinch. “How ever would you tempt me from a book if I lay claim to that spot for my private refuge?” I asked.
He glanced down, something undefined flickering in his eyes at such unguarded familiarity. But no objection or offense marred his smile. “Who says I would try to tempt you away? Perhaps I might join you.”
“And ‘perhaps’ I would steal your book until you promised to read it aloud to me. What of that, Fitzwilliam Darcy?”
“Then I would be undone. It is doubtful we would ever be discovered before it became too dark outside to see the pages. Wellington would have to bear messages to the house, leading concerned parties to our location before we were feared lost forever.”
I laughed. “Just as I once tied an urgent message to Piglet’s collar when I had been out in the garden and twisted my ankle! I sent him back into the house, and George came to rescue me.”
“Far be it from me to cast doubt upon the reliability of your memory, but that was I who found you. Your stocking was muddied and shredded, and you were certain Nurse would punish you for ruining yet another one. I had to carry you indoors because you were hurt and crying.”
