“The air is much improved today,” Mr Darcy began, his voice tight.
“It is, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth replied, casting a sideways glance at him. “Though you appear as if you are marching to a court-martial rather than a park.”
He let out a sigh. “I feel as though I am, Miss Elizabeth. And I am my own prosecutor.”
Jane glanced at him, her eyes curious and gentle. “Is something amiss, Mr Darcy?”
Mr Darcy stopped walking and turned to face the two sisters on the pavement. The bustling street seemed to fade away, leaving only the earnestness of his expression.
“Miss Bennet.” Mr Darcy addressed Jane directly. “Miss Elizabeth. Yesterday afternoon, my cousins and I attended White’s. While there, we came across... a mutual acquaintance.”
Jane stiffened, the gentle curiosity vanishing from her face, replaced by a guarded stillness.
Elizabeth stepped slightly in front of Jane, her chin lifting in a defensive posture. “If you are referring to Mr Bingley, sir, you need not report on his movements, for we are disconnected from that sphere.”
“Please, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr Darcy urged softly, pleading with her to let him finish. “I beg you to let me speak. Yesterday, I discovered the farcical absurdity of my own interference.”
Jane blinked, her guarded posture softening into confusion. “What do you mean?”
Darcy took a deep breath. “Bingley has let the lease on Netherfield lapse. He has purchased an estate in Yorkshire.”
Elizabeth gasped. “Yorkshire?”
“Yes. A breeding estate,” he continued, his voice dripping with bewildered disbelief. “He was ecstatic. He spoke for twenty minutes without drawing breath. He invited us all to Astley’s Amphitheatre to watch the trick riding.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “He... he bought horses?”
“He bought a foundation herd,” Mr Darcy explained. “Specifically, he was in raptures about a dappled grey mare. He informed us, with poetic sincerity, that looking into her eyes was like looking into the soul of an angel.”
For a moment, the pavement was silent.
Elizabeth stared at him, her mouth agape.This cannot be real,she thought.
Jane was the first to break.
She pressed a gloved hand to her mouth and her shoulders began to shake. A sound escaped her—not a sob, but a crystal-clear peal of laughter.
Elizabeth turned to her sister, her own lips twitching uncontrollably as the hysterical comedy of the situation struck her.
“A dappled grey?” Jane gasped, laughing so hard she had to lean against Elizabeth for support. “An angel?”
“He was very specific about the symmetry of her fetlocks,” Mr Darcy offered, a wave of relief washing over his face as he watched the sisters laugh.
“Oh, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth managed to say, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. “You must admit, it is fitting. A weather-vane has been distracted by a shiny new barn.”
Darcy’s smile faded. He turned towards Jane, the last remnants of his pride stripped away.
“Miss Bennet. I interfered where I had no right. I caused you pain, and I caused your sister to despise me, all to protect a man who forgot his own heart before the winter was out. I was wrong. I hope... I hope I did not cause you any more pain today by telling you this.”
Jane stopped laughing and straightened up. She looked at the man who had humbled himself before her, and offered him a smile of pure grace.
“You never caused me pain, Mr Darcy. You merely showed me the truth of his character sooner than I might have discovered it myself. I am grateful to you.”
Mr Darcy stared at her, deeply moved by her forgiveness. “You are too kind, Miss Bennet.”
“Not at all.” Jane’s eyes twinkled. “In fact, I bear him no ill will whatsoever. I should very much like to meet the mare that replaced me and wish her well.”
Mr Darcy laughed aloud, shaking his head at the goodness of Jane Bennet.
