Falling for Mr. Darcy Page 4

  “Mr. Darcy, I must also say how shocked we all were to see Lizzy on top of your horse, sir. Did she not tell you she is afraid of horses?” Jane asked.

  “Dear Jane,” Elizabeth rushed in before he could answer and then paused with a glint in her eye. “I did tell him, but he was quite persuasive in his arguments and convinced me that his horse was not wild.” Her eyes twinkled with hidden laughter as she said this to Jane but looked at Mr. Darcy.

  Is she flirting with me? Mr. Darcy smiled. “Yes, Miss Bennet, I was fortunate enough to be able to help Miss Elizabeth see the merit in riding the horse, but she is being quite modest now. She did very well despite her fears, and I was quite pleased with her.” He, too, spoke to Miss Bennet, but looked daringly back at Elizabeth.

  Jane smiled to herself as she turned to remove Elizabeth’s half boot and inspect her injury. “Yes, I am sure you are right, Mr. Darcy. Did she tell you why she does not like to ride horses?”

  Mr. Darcy was keenly aware of the work Miss Bennet was now doing. Although he could see she was trying to obscure his view to allow Elizabeth some modesty, out of the corner of his eye, he could see as she slipped the boot off her uninjured right foot and then tucked it swiftly under the blanket. Unconsciously, he forgot all about being subtle and turned his head to get a better view. He held his breath as the left boot was unlaced and Miss Bennet began, with careful movement, to slip the boot from her sister’s foot without causing her discomfort. Here it comes, almost there. Ahhh, yes! He breathed out. A small smile slid onto his face. He noticed the feminine curve of her ankle, slightly swollen on the outside, leading to the soft arch of her small foot. He could not believe how petite it was. How does she stand without falling over? He indulgently allowed his gaze to travel further to her pink, little toes just visible through pale ivory stockings. His hand twitched as he thought about reaching out and capturing her toes between his fingers.

  Elizabeth had seen his distraction when Jane began to remove her shoes. She colored at the acknowledgement of the root of his attention. Then, when he turned his head to view the scene, she was amused at his total slip in propriety. Mr. Darcy has forgot himself! Although she was shocked and embarrassed at his uninhibited examination of her exposure, she found that, instead of being appalled at his ungentlemanly distraction, she was enthralled. Never before had any man given her more than the briefest of pleasantries in their compliments to her person. She was always hearing about how beautiful Jane was from her mother, too. Could Mr. Darcy find me attractive? The idea suddenly struck her that he might indeed, especially as she now saw that his face held a pleased smile. His gaze was quite intent, and she saw his hand move slightly. She suddenly felt very warm inside to witness his complete abandon at the sight. Elizabeth smiled to herself wickedly and decided to get revenge for his impolite acknowledgement of her scrutiny of his face when he had carried her to his horse earlier that morning. She eyed him carefully as she wiggled the toes on the foot he was watching.

  Mr. Darcy stiffened when he saw her toes move and then heard a small chuckle come from Elizabeth. He quickly turned towards her, realized she had seen his lapse in manners, and colored deep red with embarrassment. She laughed this time, causing Jane to turn her head in question. Mr. Darcy allowed himself to laugh, too. He slowly raised his gaze and met her eyes, which were soft and tender and excessively amused. He breathed a sigh of relief that she was not upset with him as he returned a smile and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  Elizabeth adjusted in her seat and, sitting upright a bit more, smiled her acceptance of his apology before turning to Jane to say, “No Jane, I had not the chance to share with Mr. Darcy my most embarrassing reason for being afraid of horses. Thank you for bringing it up. I am sure Mr. Darcy is too much of a gentleman to ask me to tell the story though.”

  “Indeed, no! Miss Elizabeth, this story sounds too good to miss, and I am not so much the gentleman as you might think, so please — do enlighten me.” He smiled cheekily at her jibe.

  Elizabeth and Jane laughed together, and Elizabeth thought that she was not sure she knew this man at all. He is so charming and playful. Who would have guessed stuffy Mr. Darcy had it in him to lighten up this way? Her breathing quickened as she contemplated how she might be falling for him. How absurd! After one morning? It cannot be; we are nothing alike. The thought struck her with a bit of sadness. They were very different. He was rich and from circles in society that she could never touch, even if she cared to. She was an insignificant country gentleman’s daughter. He was probably expected to marry an heiress or someone with impressive ancestry. I have nothing to tempt him. He is out of my reach, and I cannot believe I am thinking about it at all. It cannot be. She was surprised at how the realization of the difference in status, and the impossibility of a match between them, struck her with a pang in her heart. Unconsciously, her face drooped a bit in momentary sadness.

  Mr. Darcy watched the play of emotions dance across her face. She had been happy — exuberant really — and then she seemed to be struck with something. When her face turned down with worry and sadness, he jumped in, “Miss Elizabeth, if it gives you discomfort to share the story, please do not. I was only teasing and would never wish to cause you distress. It was very impolite of me; please accept my apology.”

  Elizabeth glanced at her sister, who saw the change in her as well and asked about it with only an upturn of her eyebrow, the way only a sister familiar enough with her could do. She gave a silent promise to talk later and turned to deflect Mr. Darcy’s concern.

  “Mr. Darcy, it is nothing. I would be happy to tell you the story as it does not really distress me at all. I was only briefly distracted by an unpleasant thought. Please forgive me.”

  Mr. Darcy was relieved at her words, but his interest was captured by her reference to an unpleasant thought. He felt a wave of protectiveness flood him as he never wanted to see her face turn down so in sadness. He wished he could know that terrible thought and keep it from disturbing her ever again, so that her eyes would sparkle at him.

  He nodded to her and, in hopes of making her eyes light up in laughter, displayed an uncharacteristic silliness as he found a chair and, moving it right up to her at the couch, sat down and leaned forward in eager anticipation of her story. His face expressed serious consideration for the tragic tale, and he brought his hand up to grip his chin in ready concentration. “Do begin then, Miss Elizabeth. I am ready for this terrifying narrative.”

  She sat back in delight at his mock seriousness and laughed, touched at his attempt to cheer her. Oh, if you only knew, Mr. Darcy, how attractive you are right now, you would not continue in such a way. She smiled and, taking a deep breath, forced her face into a solemn gaze as if to begin an account very tragic, indeed.

  “It is a simple story, really, sir. My father had taken me out on my horse when I was nine, and we had ridden together to the far reaches of the estate.”

  “He used to take her occasionally on his inspections of the farms and tenant homes,” Jane added.

  “At one point, a particularly protective dog belonging to one of the tenants came to feel threatened by our approach and began barking excitedly at my pony’s feet. Penny, my normally tame pony, became agitated and reared up. I was not an experienced horsewoman and did not know how to calm her. I flew off and landed very near Penny’s excited hooves as they pranced around me.”

  Seeing Mr. Darcy’s sudden frown, Elizabeth continued, “I was never hurt, and the dog and horse were soon calmed, but I could not persuade myself to remount ever again. Until today, I had not been on a horse in nearly eleven years.”

  During her narrative, Hill had come in once to give Jane some wraps for Elizabeth’s ankle and again with a tea tray. Darcy found himself in a state of calm contentment to hear Elizabeth talk about her childhood. He enjoyed hearing her speak and thought she had a pleasant voice. He admired her even more as he considered just what kind of concession she made in allowing him to place her on his horse. Although he wa
s not unaware of the fact that during the story Jane had uncovered Elizabeth’s ankle from the blanket and had begun to wrap it tenderly, he could not find it as distracting as the thought of how brave Elizabeth had been earlier. Part of him realized with pride that she had allowed him to coax and comfort her in a way, and that he was the only one in over a decade who was able to help her set aside her fears and ride again.

  Thinking of their ride reminded him of the feel of her relaxing against him, her head leaning on his shoulder as they talked. He was sure that her natural modesty would not have allowed that if she had been aware that she had done it. He remembered how he could feel the heat from her cheeks near his and could detect her scent was a mixture of lavender and what he could only describe as sunshine.

  “So, you see, Mr. Darcy, it is not a very exciting story, but it is the reason I do not ride,” Elizabeth finished.

  Coming out of his reverie, he tenderly replied, “I am amazed at how well you did today considering your fears, Miss Elizabeth. You were very brave. Perhaps, one day, with the right mount and teacher, you will again be comfortable with the sport.”

  “Perhaps,” was her only reply.

  At that point, Jane offered Mr. Darcy a cup of tea. He took it and thanked her. “Will you not stay for breakfast, Mr. Darcy?” she asked.

  Mr. Darcy turned his head to the window and, realizing how late the day had become, took out his watch. He had been with Elizabeth three hours now and away from Netherfield for four. “Thank you, but I have been gone a long time, and I am sure my party is now missing me. Forgive me for staying so long.”

  Mr. Darcy caught the disappointment in Elizabeth’s eyes and chided himself. He knew he had feelings for her, and those feelings, he was willing to admit, were becoming strong. Yet he could not let her suspect his feelings any more than he had already. It had just been so natural with her. She lightened his mood, and he felt more himself than he had in years. It is not fair to her. He still could not be sure what his intentions were towards her or whether he even had any. It would not be good to raise her expectations. He had these same thoughts previously but with a different sentiment. Before, he felt he could not raise her expectations because she was so below him. He had considered it would be natural for her to wish for a connection with him. Now, he knew he could not raise them because he did not want to hurt her feelings should he decide he could not follow where his heart wanted to lead. She had become more real to him now that he knew a bit more. He had seen her momentary disappointment and had detected other moments of her regard, and that, combined with the still-vivid memory of her softness, made him realize that the idea of Elizabeth returning his esteem was delicious to him and exceedingly tempting.

  “Mr. Darcy, please allow me to thank you again. Despite the many awkward moments we have endured this morning, I have had a most pleasant time with you. Thank you for coming to my aid,” Elizabeth said with sincerity.

  Standing to take his leave, he bowed to her and, taking her hand in his, gave it a quick, very proper kiss. “I wish you a speedy recovery, Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed to Jane. “Miss Bennet.”

  Upon exiting the room, he recovered his gloves and his greatcoat from the footman and held out his hand for his hat. The footman looked at him in confusion and looked back to the sideboard for the missing item. Realizing that his hat was still in the grass near Netherfield, he laughed to himself and waved away the worries of the footman. “It is all right, man.” And then to himself, he whispered, “It is all right.” With that, he turned and exited the house with a sad smile.

  Elizabeth and Jane listened for his exit from the house. They remained silent until they could hear the hooves of his horse as he rode away. Jane turned towards Elizabeth and gave her a huge grin. She grabbed her hands and, shaking her head, exclaimed, “What in the world have you done to Mr. Darcy, Lizzy?”

  * * *

  Mr. Darcy could hardly account to himself how he made it back to Netherfield. After leaving Longbourn and the presence of Miss Elizabeth, his mind was so caught up in the events of the past few hours that he could only credit the intelligence of his horse for his safe return, as it was by no means a measure of his own direction. He reached down and, thanking his horse with a pat, again contemplated what felt like a dream to him. Whether it was to be remembered as a nightmare or a pleasant dream was yet to be determined. He was sure he would suffer greatly if he were to turn away from Elizabeth now, as he knew he must. His duty demanded it. He could not decide whether or not he wished he had encountered her at all and, therefore, could avoid this further suffering. Whenever he started to wish that he had not spent the last few hours with Elizabeth, he found his mind would not tolerate it. It was anguish already to try to forget the heat of her skin through her muslin gown or the musical sound of her laughter as her sparkling eyes were turned towards him with a smile. How many times had he felt jealousy towards any man who could command that kind of smile from her? How many times had he wished he could prompt such a response? He had been a fool, indeed, to think she had been welcoming his attention at Netherfield. He knew the difference now, and he knew she barely noticed him then.

  Nearing where he had lost his hat, Darcy turned his horse to retrieve it. Upon dismounting, Darcy took a moment to look at his hat. It was not like him to allow others to see him in less than pristine condition. He had not considered his appearance once during his time with Elizabeth. Darcy was surprised with himself at the relative ease he had felt with her those past few hours. It had not been that way before. He had always been so struck with her presence that it left him quite unable to speak with her at all. He usually only found enough command of himself to avoid gazing permanently at her or to say the merest civilities in response to her inquiries. He thought how frustrating it had been. After all, he was the master of Pemberley, a man of no small means and one of the most eligible bachelors in all England. So why was it his tongue had become tied at every turn in the presence of a mere slip of a girl from the country? The remainder of the ride back to the stables of Netherfield was spent in deep thought as to why that day had been different. The time did not afford him an answer, and all he could determine was that, for once, his consideration was more on Elizabeth’s wellbeing and less about his own comfort, needs and duties.

  After instructing the groom in the care of his horse, ensuring it would be well brushed and fed after the day’s heavy exercise, Darcy headed for the side entrance to the house and up the back staircase. He was not yet fully in control of his faculties to appear composed to the Bingleys. Upon reaching his suite, he rang for his valet and ordered a bath.

  * * *

  “Darcy! I say, where have you been? It was very impolite of you to leave me to my sisters all morning. I should have liked an ally, man.” Bingley’s jubilant nature grated a bit on Mr. Darcy’s ears as he came bounding out of his chair in the library to greet his friend.

  “I apologize, Bingley, for my absence. I rode out early this morning and had intended on returning long before now.” Darcy briefly considered not mentioning his encounter with Elizabeth and her family but soon realized it would be of no use. “While out, I came upon Miss Elizabeth Bennet after she had taken a fall. She was in need of my help, and I assisted her home.” Darcy was pleased with himself for the coolness his voice held. He hoped he could appear as dispassionate about the encounter as possible.

  “Miss Elizabeth! Heavens! What happened to her?”

  “It is nothing. She merely twisted her ankle and could not walk home. I daresay she will be better in a day or so,” Mr. Darcy replied as calmly as he could and turned to the side table to pour himself some coffee. He was trying desperately to appear calm even as his mind returned to the grove, remembering the pressure of Elizabeth’s small hands on his chest when he held her.

  “Well, it is good to hear it was not worse.” Bingley mused for a moment. Darcy is acting strangely, and I have a feeling he is not telling all. “You say you assisted her home, Darcy? If she could not wal
k, how did you do it?”

  Bingley smiled to himself when he saw his friend’s posture become a bit more erect and heard him answer with feigned indifference, “She rode my horse.” At this, Darcy swallowed hard and turned slowly to face his friend. He raised his coffee cup to his mouth in an attempt to disguise the slight, traitorous smile that threatened to expose him.

  Bingley was a jovial man who loved a good joke. However, this was his friend, Darcy, and he looked to him in nearly all things. He would not push him to explain the smile he was obviously trying to hide with his cup — trying, and failing miserably. He had never seen him so discomposed, and it tickled his interest. Instead, he turned the discussion slightly and asked, “And how did you find the Bennets this morning?”

  Darcy scowled in earnest now. Bless Bingley for finally bringing him to earth with that reminder. The family was every bit as horrible as ever. His jaw tightened as he remembered the effusions of Mrs. Bennet and the indelicate insinuations of the youngest girls. That was the trick to controlling his feelings for Elizabeth; all he had to do was remember her family and what a colossal mistake it would be to make them his own. With disdain, he answered, “The Bennets were all in good health and feeling quite themselves, I would say.”

  Bingley’s good nature kept him from sensing the bitter sarcasm in his friend’s reply and was satisfied with the response. A few quiet minutes passed in which Bingley was briefly lost in happy thoughts about the eldest of that family when the door to the library flew open and in walked Miss Bingley.