“Your coachman will probably hate us for this idea,” she said, standing and smiling now.
“Frost would rather be out driving than sitting around doing nothing, no matter the weather. You are not to fret.”
“Neddy,” she said, kneeling at his side, putting her face at a level to his. “Would you like to go for a ride? Go outside in a carriage?”
She had gained his attention. “Ou’side,” he repeated, looking at her with sudden interest.
“Yes. Outside. Let us get you dressed for the out of doors.”
He grinned hugely, and did something odd—he pressed his hands together in excitement, his whole body tensing with it—making a loud, keening noise that was somehow jubilant, at the same time.
Elizabeth looked up at him with an apologetic air. “It is only anticipation.”
“I can see that.” It was always easy to see how the child felt, despite his lack of speech. He was…vivid, somehow, lively, his joy in this outing so fully manifest that it made one share in it; he could not prevent his own smile.
She led her brother to the back of the home, wherepresumably were their chambers. The place was a long, narrow rectangular box shape—dark wood walls, low ceiling, and small windows contributing to a feel of gloom and shabbiness, despite obvious attempts at brightening it with colourfully embroidered pillows. Mrs Finch, evidently, was going to hide in her own room until he departed. He went to one of the small windows looking out on the front drive, keeping an eye out for Frost, and having second and third thoughts about his decision to invite Elizabeth and Edward out for a drive. Drives were so often for courting—although surely Elizabeth had taken it as a gesture of kindness towards her brother, as it was meant.
Is that what you meant, Darcy? Or were you searching for any excuse to remain with her for longer than a few brief minutes? How will you explain this outing to others if you are noticed?
Frost, he could see, had made the loop and was on his approach—almost a quarter-hour exactly, he judged. He went outside to meet him, so that he could tell him to take less travelled roads; there was no sense in starting rumours, for either himself or Elizabeth.
It was not long before she and Edward emerged from the house—sadly, her curls were now contained within a matronly cap that he hated. She wore, again, the green cloak he had seen her in the first time. That day had been warmer than this one, and it appeared to be of a thin wool he thought not quite suitable for today’s weather; it must be her only one. Edward was brimming with excitement, his eyes alight, his dimples showing with his grin. He noted Frost returning it, the child’s utter happiness so easily seen and shared.
“The boy does not often have the opportunity to ride,” he said, by way of an explanation he certainly did not owe hiscoachman but somehow felt compelled to make. “I promised him the treat of one. It would be best if we were not particularly noticed on the roads hereabouts.”
Frost gave him a look that was remarkable only for its blandness. Edward, however, pulled away from Elizabeth to run directly for the horse. Before Elizabeth could even cry out, Darcy had scooped up the child. Holding him securely, he brought Edward directly up to the lead mare—this horse was a gentle soul, unlike Gallant. Edward reached out to touch her mane.
“Gently,” he murmured. “You must use gentle hands, or you shall hurt her. Gentle, gentle,” he said, showing him with his own. To his surprise, Edward copied Darcy’s motions exactly, gentling his stroke.
“Gentle hands,” the child repeated. To be fair, no one else would probably be able to interpret the syllables emerging from Edward’s mouth as ‘Gentle hands’…butheknew it. He understood it. The boycouldlearn, if only his wandering, elusive attention could be somehow arrested and reined in.
“That is so good, Neddy,” Elizabeth said, from somewhere near his back. “Gentle hands.”
Darcy looked at her shining eyes and knew she had understood the little boy as well. She was so obviously, so painfully proud of him for this simple accomplishment.
As he walked towards the door, the child strained to get back to the horse, but was distracted when he put down the steps, opening the door to the carriage and setting Edward inside; without hesitation, the lad went to its window and pushed aside the curtains so he could peer out. Elizabeth wasted no time in following—Darcy barely had time to help her in. Not long after, they were setting off—Edward still standing at the window, Elizabeth keeping one protective handupon him. “Gee-ee!” the boy keened excitedly, his entire body tensing again with joy.
“He loves this,” Darcy said, smiling, stating the obvious.
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied, smiling back. “Thank you so much, Mr Darcy. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your kindness.”
Her attention returned to the child, but Darcy felt his own smile fading. He did not want her gratitude. He wanted more, much more than that, and guilt swamped him once again.
As the drive wore on, Elizabeth chatted with enough enthusiasm that he realised it was not only Edward who seldom enjoyed any of the simple pleasures of a ride upon deserted rural roads. She drew his attention to the history of the places they saw, told him of the ownership of properties they passed, and in general was a knowledgeable, informative guide to the entire countryside. He loved to listen to her, to see the sparkle in her eyes, to ask her the occasional question of its people. She spoke to him of Jane, of her goodness and esteem, of how often she walked over from Longbourn with treats for her little brother, spending hours with them; her elder sister was clearly one of the pillars of her ability to survive the rather lonely existence she endured at Fox Hollow.
As much as Elizabeth conversed with him, however, she also never ignored Edward—often pointing out sights that would be amusing to him.
“Look at the big rock, Neddy! So big!” she said, as they passed an enormous boulder. “Oh, see the cows! Moo!”
“Your cow imitation is quite well done. Almost as if one of the beasts was here in the carriage with us,” he nodded, making sure enough admiration was in his tone that she would know he was teasing.
“It is a gift,” she said with laughter, and the only thing thatcould have made the moment better was if he could have shown her, by the violence of his affections, how great was his regard. When Edward, after what seemed an hour, crawled up onto her lap, laying his head upon her chest, still looking out the window, he thought him the most fortunate child in the world. “My biggest boy,” she said, murmuring little affectionate nonsense as she gently stroked his back, pressing kisses to his curls. “My little heartikin.” By the time they were driving up the track to her rustic home, the lad was sound asleep.
In sleep, he was angelic. The more time Darcy spent with Edward, however, the more he realised the depth of the lad’s needs.I do not have the capacity to take on such a child, he knew.I have a responsibility to my sister. Not only is Elizabeth not the sort of woman I require, but she comes with troubles that might shine a light upon Georgiana’s worst impediments.To theton, his neighbours, even to his own relations, they could be considered a family of misfits.
It was not to be borne. But at the conclusion of their drive, he heard himself promising to come the next day with news of Miss Bennet. He saw the eagerness with which she accepted his assurances. His heart sang with the pleasure of her approval.
His danger was nearly complete.
