Page 79 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

“Yes, ma’am. Trousers would be more to the point when pursuing this sport.”

“Yes, sir. I see you understand me.”

When they reached the brook, Mr. Darcy handed her the rod. “Shall I assemble it for you, ma’am?”

Her eyes brightened with amusement. “No, thank you, sir. I am able to manage it. It is one of the skills I wish to teach Georgiana. If you would like to retrieve your own rod and take a place nearby, we shall call upon you should we require assistance.” She glanced at him. “Have you a creel, sir?”

“I do, Miss Elizabeth. You are optimistic, ma’am.”

“Yes, sir. I have never yet gone fishing and returned without a catch.”

He inclined his head, offered her a grin, and left them.

Elizabeth was instructing Georgiana in the selection of a fly when Mr. Darcy returned.

“We shall use this Blue Dun because the brook has had several hours to warm. Do you see the mayflies upon the surface? The trout should be rising to feed.”

She secured the fly and explained the several movements required to cast the line.

“I shall cast first so that you may see what I mean, and then I shall talk you through it.”

Georgiana listened closely, and Elizabeth was touched by the girl's earnest attention.

She took her position beside the brook, drew the rod back, and with a practiced movement sent the line unfurling behind her. A turn of her wrist brought it forward again in a graceful arc. The line straightened above the water, and the little fly settled lightly upon the surface.

Nothing rose to it.

Elizabeth waited a moment, then lifted the line from the water and cast again. The movement was smooth and effortless, the line sweeping through the air before the Blue Dun came to rest upon the brook once more. She explained each movement as she cast the line.

“Your casting is elegant,” Mr. Darcy said, “as graceful as your singing. I could sit upon this stone and watch you for the rest of the day.”

Georgiana giggled, and Elizabeth’s eyes flashed with amusement. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. What you see is the result of many years of practice.”

“Which began when you were fourteen?”

“Ah, no, sir. My father first put a fishing rod into my hands when I was eight. When I began my studies two years later, he used fishing as an inducement to keep me at my books for six hours each day. It worked. I became a student of Greek and Roman literature and a skilled fisherwoman besides.”

She ended with a laugh.

Mr. Darcy was grinning as he prepared to cast his own line. Elizabeth and Georgiana watched him. There was artistry in his movements. He was beautiful to behold, his tall, masculine form possessing a grace that made even the simple act of casting seem elegant.

“My turn, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth reluctantly dragged her eyes from the brother to assist the sister.

By the end of an hour, Georgiana had managed to hook a tree, a bush, the bank, and finally Elizabeth’s gown.

“Wait, Georgiana. Do not move a muscle. You have caught me.” Elizabeth looked to Mr. Darcy. “Sir, would you be so kind as to free my gown before the hook finds my leg?”

“Do not move, Georgie. I am coming.”

He propped his rod among the stones and went to Elizabeth’s side.

He caught up the line and drew a pair of scissors from his jacket pocket.

Elizabeth raised a brow.

He grinned. “My fishing scissors, ma’am. I ordinarily keep them in my tackle box, but when I am at the sport, I carry them in my fishing jacket.”