Richard’s brows shot upward. “Have you indeed?”
“It seemed…appropriate,” Darcy replied, a touch too evenly.
Richard grinned. “Ah. Then I shall join you.”
Darcy finally looked at him. “You were not invited.”
“True,” Richard said lightly, reaching for his riding whip, “but I find myself possessed of a horse, a coat, and an appetite.Besides, it will afford me an opportunity to converse with Miss Bennet without your friend Bingley hovering like a jealous sentry.”
Darcy huffed a quiet laugh despite himself. “You do not lack confidence.”
“I did not survive the Peninsula by shrinking from opportunity,” Richard replied. Then, more soberly, “You do not object.”
Darcy hesitated only a moment. “No,” he admitted. “I do not.”
They mounted shortly thereafter and set off together, the morning crisp and bright, the hedgerows silvered with dew. For a time they rode in companionable silence, the rhythm of hooves steady beneath them.
At last Richard spoke. “Miss Bennet is a remarkable young woman.”
Darcy’s grip tightened on the reins, though his tone remained neutral. “She is.”
“Not merely pretty,” Richard continued. “Though she is that as well. But intelligent, thoughtful, and possessed of a kindness that does not diminish her judgment. She listens—truly listens.”
Darcy inclined his head. “Jane Bennet has always struck me as gentle and sincere.”
“And yet,” Richard said, glancing sideways, “I detect a reservation.”
Darcy exhaled. “As you know, I prefer her sister.”
Richard laughed outright. “There it is. I wondered how long you would go without saying it.”
Elizabeth, Darcy thought. Elizabeth with her sharp wit, her moral seriousness, her refusal to accept the world as it was merely because it had always been so.And now we are courting.
“She challenges me,” Darcy said quietly. “And I find I am better for it.”
Richard regarded him with affectionate scrutiny. “Then you are already lost.”
Darcy did not deny it. “It would seem a courtship is rather an unnecessary step.”Perhaps I ought to propose to her and have done with it.
They arrived at Longbourn to find the house ready for them, sunlight spilling across the drive. Mrs. Bennet received the gentlemen with effusive warmth, scarcely pausing to wonder at Fitzwilliam’s presence before ushering them in with delighted hospitality.
Breakfast was laid in cheerful abundance. Mr. Bennet presided with amused indulgence, while Mrs. Bennet fluttered between pouring tea and directing conversation. Miss Bennet sat composed and radiant, her smile polite but reserved. Elizabeth entered shortly thereafter, and Darcy experienced, rather illogically, a sense that the room had transformed upon her entrance.
During the meal, Darcy found himself seated beside Elizabeth, their conversation quieter than the general table talk.
“You seem enthusiastic about the day,” she observed softly.
“I was eager,” he replied, meaning more than the words conveyed.
She smiled faintly. “I suspected as much.”
Her gaze flicked, briefly, toward Miss Bennet and Fitzwilliam, who were engaged in an animated discussion at the far end of the table. The lady’s laughter—soft, unguarded—was a sound Darcy had not often heard.
“They seem at ease,” Elizabeth murmured.
“They do,” Darcy agreed. Then, after a pause, “Do you know your sister’s feelings on the matter?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Jane has been…circumspect of late. She has not confided in me as she once did. I believe she wishes to sort her feelings before confessing them aloud.”
