Page 119 of What Change Entails

Elizabeth’s second arrow struck even closer to the center.

The group erupted.

Miss Bingley’s mouth thinned before she restored it into praise. “How very unexpected, Miss Eliza. One would scarcely think such a rustic exercise had formed part of your education.”

Elizabeth handed the bow back with studied calm. “Country life offers many surprises.”

Lydia, who understood insult before grammar, marched forward. “Lizzy used to shoot at crab apples in the orchard when Papa was not looking.”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply. “Lydia!”

“What? That explains it.”

Mr. Gardiner laughed. “Your father knew, I assure you.”

“He did?” Elizabeth demanded.

“He found it entertaining.”

Darcy found himself fascinated by this new image of her: younger, windblown, laughing in an orchard with a bow in hand and crab apples serving as enemies. It suited her absurdly well.

“You are staring, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth murmured as she passed him.

He lowered his voice. “I am reassessing the dangers of orchards.”

She blushed and attempted to hide her expression, but not before a smile betrayed her.

The competition became increasingly unruly after that.

Teams were attempted and failed three times.

Miss Bingley suggested herself and Darcy paired together on account of “natural steadiness.” Lydia declared that steadiness sounded fatal to sport and that Miss Bingley must have Bingley, since their names matched and perhaps that would make the score easier to remember. Bingley accepted with pleasure. Miss Bingley did not.

After some convincing, Mrs. Hurst joined in the fun. Mr. Gardiner paired with her, and she surprised everyone by striking the target twice. Georgiana improved by degrees, helped by Elizabeth’s easy encouragement and Lydia’s wild advice, most of which ought to have made matters worse.

“Think of Miss Bingley correcting your posture,” Lydia whispered before one attempt.

Georgiana’s arrow struck the painted ring.

“Excellent,” Lydia said. “Spite improves aim.”

“Lydia,” Elizabeth warned.

“What? It did.”

Darcy looked away before Miss Bingley caught his expression.

When Darcy took his own turn, Elizabeth watched from beside the lemonade table. His first arrow struck the outer ring.

Bingley seized upon this with disgraceful delight.

“Darcy! I thought you master of Pemberley.”

“Pemberley’s authority does not extend to arrows.” In truth, he had shown very little interest in the sport as a child, or even as a young man. He preferred horses.

“It ought,” Lydia said. “Otherwise what is the point of owning so much land?”

Elizabeth approached, folding her hands before her with exaggerated seriousness. “Would you care for instruction, Mr. Darcy?”