12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Early the next morning, Elizabeth hurried out of the house with a small bundle in her hands. She had informed Mrs. Hill of her plans and gathered the makings of a simple meal from the kitchen before making her way out the back door. She turned away from the stables and hurried on foot toward the path to Oakham Mount. There was too much on her mind today for riding; she wanted to be able to focus on her own thoughts. The assembly had left her mind and heart in a tumult, and she needed quiet and solitude to find her equilibrium once again.

The familiarity of the path meant she could allow her mind to wander as she walked. Immediately her thoughts returned to the night before. I do not understand how Aunt and Uncle Philips could so easily disregard Papa's wishes. Her steps became brisker, her heart beating faster as the color rose in her face. It is not for the Philipses to usurp Papa! They may not agree with him, but that does not give them leave to do as they choose. She yanked a twig from a nearby bush and slashed it through the air. I shudder to think what might have happened if my younger sisters had been there last night. I have no doubt Lydia would have been on Lt. Wickham's arm and flaunting it in front of Maria to boot!

Huffing angrily, she tossed the twig aside. I dare not tell him though, lest it cause a rift between him and the Philipses. I know he is quite intractable in this matter of the officers, and Aunt Philips can be so very determined herself. I can see them quite at odds over it all. I must speak to Jane…oh Jane… A small smile crept over her lips. She paused a moment, in a clearing beside the path. The sun was just coming up over the horizon, the pink rays teasing awake the small valley below. She breathed deeply, enjoying the fresh smells of the dew-laden grass. Two birds began calling back and forth to one another. They sound like Lydia and Kitty quarreling.

She returned to the path to finish her trek to the top. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy were so very attentive last night. I am sure they knew something more than they revealed. Surely Mr. Darcy's dislike of Mr. Wickham alone could not have motivated their attentions.

I have no doubt Mr. Bingley will be speaking to father soon regarding Jane. Last night, he showed himself worthy of her. He is not the puppy I thought, but a fine hunter who will guard his own faithfully. She deserves no less. She ducked a low hanging branch, hissing as a large leaf slapped her cheek. Muttering under her breath, she looked over her shoulder to glare at the offending limb, laughing at herself as she did. Oh, but I shall miss her. Perhaps they will settle at Netherfield. Mr. Bingley does not seem to find our family so burdensome that he would need to flee from us. She chuckled again. He actually seems to like Papa, and Papa appears to enjoy his company…despite the fact that he does not play chess.

She blew out a deep breath as she arrived at her destination. Brushing off her favorite fallen log, she glanced about then settled down to contemplate the blossoming sunrise. For several long minutes, she just enjoyed the masterpiece before her, the fingers of dawn wrapping the landscape below in a golden glow. The scolding birds stopped, replaced by a choir of birdsong. A gentle breeze, fragranced with loam, stroked her face. For a moment, serenity bathed her.

Yes, m'lady. His voice rang in her ears; the feeling of safety she felt in his presence so like what she felt sitting here, now. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the sky, the soft sunlight kissing her cheeks. Unbidden, the image of him kissing her face leapt to her mind; her cheeks burned. Yes, m'lady. She covered her face with her hands and drew a deep breath.

What could he have meant by that? Had any other man made such a statement, I would not give it a second thought, but Mr. Darcy? He is not given to fancy words nor prattling on as other young gentlemen. She laughed to herself. Katie Long's beau…what cork-brained gibbering spewed forth from his lips! She cupped her cheek and drummed her fingers softly over her temple. But not him; he speaks so little, except when he is in company with Papa, or Mr. Bingley…or to me.

She felt a flush rising up her neck, her mind flashing back to her unconventional meetings with him in the field and in the library. I still cannot believe how easy it was to speak with him, the way that I remember father and mother were with each other. I know they were not always such, but they became so. How lovely it would be to have such a marriage from the start… Her hand flew to her mouth, and she gasped. Marriage? What am I thinking? I shall not…I cannot…but if I did…

Suddenly she felt a soft touch on her shoulder and hot breath on her cheek. Jumping, she squealed and turned to find Surtur staring at her. Immediately she grasped his bridle with her left hand, seeking his reins with the other. "What are you doing here?"

The black stallion's sleek coat glistened in the morning light. He shook his head, tossing his mane, and snorted.

"You are all dressed out for riding," she murmured, stroking his neck, "but I see no sign of …" she glanced around the stallion, "…of your master. So either you have thrown him, and he is hurt…" her chest tightened at the thought, "…or you have been a very naughty horse and have slipped away from him when he expected you to stay where you were told."

She ran her hands along his cheeks and looked into his dark eyes. "Yes, you were very naughty indeed; he is far too good a horseman for you to have thwarted." He tossed his head and pawed the ground. "You cheeky boy. Now we must go and find your master and return you to him." She patted his nose.

"Now, you will not like this very much, I am sure," she said pleasantly as she approached his side. Confidently, she adjusted the stirrups for her smaller frame. "I know none of the grooms can ride you." She patted and stroked his side soothingly. "I expect that you are like Toppur, and none but your master has ridden you. But perhaps it is time that you learn to accept a mistress." She coaxed him nearer the fallen log so she could stand upon it to reach the stirrup, then gracefully swung up into the saddle.

Surtur's eyes grew wide and his nostril's flared with the unfamiliar weight upon his back. He snorted and pawed at the ground. "There, there," she cooed, "I know this is not familiar to you, but you will find I will not be easily dissuaded."

He shook his head and skittered nervously. Throwing up his head, he whinnied loudly. She continued to stroke his neck and speak soothingly to him. But he began to back up, crouching down on his hind legs. "Oh no, you will not!" she declared, moving his head opposite his haunches with a wide opening rein while she vigorously urged him with her leg.Though agitated by the unfamiliar rider, he was well trained and surged forward at her insistence.

"There you go; that's a fine horse. So much like my Toppur, you are." She smiled to herself.

Twice more, Surtur attempted to rear up, but both times she mastered the stallion. Finally, she guided him toward the path. "Take me back to him. Where were you? Willard's field? We shall try there first." Slapping the reins and clucking her tongue, she directed him forward.

He carried her down the path a short way, then paused and pricked his ears. "No, no, we are going to do this my way," she insisted with a small kick to his sides. He took off at a brisk pace, veering close to the trees.

She dropped down close to his neck to avoid a low tree branch. "I have seen that trick before and many others as well. You will soon know that I am not so easily fooled."

With a final snort, Surtur trotted down the path to Willard's field.

Near dawn, Darcy left Netherfield on Surtur to visit Willard's field. Although he knew it was very unlikely, he still hoped that perhaps he might see Elizabeth there. His heart fell when they arrived at the field and she was not to be found. With a sigh, he kicked his horse into a run, and they dashed over the field, rider and master relishing the wind in their faces.

Finally spent, Darcy guided the stallion to a copse of old trees near a small brook. He slid from his saddle and carelessly looped Surtur's reins around a tree stump, close enough to allow him a drink. Darcy knelt by the stream and scooped several cool handfuls to his mouth, savouring the sweetness of the water. With a final cooling splash to his face, he sighed and pushed himself up. Water droplets fell from his chin to his chest, dripping onto the once crisp linen of his now disheveled shirt.

Mindlessly, he walked to a large rock bathed in the rosy rays of the dawn. He sat down heavily, noticing the coolness of the stone. Elbows on his knees, he dropped his face into his hands, his mind whirling with conflicted thoughts.

Have you appointed yourself my knight in shining armor? Her words echoed over and over in his mind, followed by his own. Yes, m'lady. His guts clenched as he confessed to himself the shocking truth— she had captured him. The petite country miss from Herdfordshire who ran her father's estate and rode an unmanageable stallion had seized his attention, and no other woman could compare. His life would never be complete— Pemberley would never be home again— without her.

But how? I cannot… I must not… Georgiana must be protected at all costs. Andrew's mourning will be over soon; just a few months more should be sufficient. But I have not heard from him in months now. It would be too much like him to have become distracted on the continent in whatever he has found to drown his sorrows. He groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands. That is not fair. Andrew has never been given to excess; I would hardly have agreed to Georgiana's plans had that been the case. Perhaps Richard knows where he is now, so that I might write to him about his plans. Once they are settled, then, after a respectable time, some months perhaps, then I will be free… Two loudly squawking birds flew past. "Argh!" He stood and clutched his temples.

Angrily he stomped downstream. Aunt Catherine will begin to scold and peck at me the moment Georgiana is married. She will be planning my wedding to Anne the moment my sister's wedding breakfast is over! How am I to convince her that Anne and I will not wed? Since my cousin will not abide living anywhere but Rosings or Heatherington House in London, and when in London she will not go out, there will be little opportunity for her to meet anyone, let alone a suitor. Even if she did, it likely would be one seeking a Smithfield bargain [sup]1[/sup] without any regard for her. She does not deserve that! I must protect her from such a fate. Darcy crouched down to the water once again, dipping his hand into the stream. But I will not do so by marrying her.

He looked skyward, blinking in the increasing brightness. Aunt Catherine can be vengeful when she does not get her way. I have no doubt she would be willing to destroy Elizabeth in the eyes of the ton in retribution for my disobedience. No matter how little Elizabeth cares for society, I cannot subject her to that! No, until I have managed Aunt Catherine, I cannot marry anyone. He grumbled low in his throat and raked his hand through his unkempt hair. I had everything so neatly ordered before I agreed to accompany Bingley here. 'You need a rest,' he said. I am now more torn than ever before! How have things become so complicated?

He pushed himself up, flinging water droplets from his hand. Tossing his head back, he sighed and began trudging back to Surtur. But when he arrived at the stump, there was no sign of the stallion. He grumbled low in his throat and raked his hands

"Bloody hell and damnation!" Darcy snarled in frustration, kicking at a clump of grass. "I should have known to tie him down! That willful beast!" He looked impotently about the field, willing his horse to appear.

A disturbance in the trees at the far side of the field caught his attention, and suddenly Surtur, with a small figure perched in his saddle, appeared. Darcy stared wide-eyed, gasping. He watched as the stallion attempted to rear and was expertly urged forward. A moment later, he was a black blur, racing across the field. "Elizabeth!"

Half horror and half fascination, he watched as Surtur flew over the landscape, finally slowing to a trot, then a walk. So entranced at the sight was he, that he was almost surprised to realize that the pair was approaching him. Finally, they were at his side. "Elizabeth!" he exclaimed, and he took the horse's halter in his hand. "Good God, woman, what are you doing?"

Windblown and breathless, her bonnet hung by its strings at her neck. "I should think it obvious, sir. I am riding your horse." A brilliant smile blossomed over her face. "He is a fine stallion!"

"I am the only one who rides him!"

"I assumed as much. But, since you did me the favor of exercising Toppur when I was indisposed, I thought I would do you the courtesy of returning your wayward steed to you." She threw her leg over the stallion's side and slid down. As her feet hit the ground, the horse side stepped and bumped her softly. She stumbled into Darcy's arms. "Oh!"

Without thinking, he caught her and drew her close. He felt her regain her balance, but he did not release her. "How could you endanger yourself in such a way?" he whispered into her hair.

"If you could master Toppur, why should I not ride Surtur? That was no more dangerous than your riding my stallion. Like your own mount, no one else has ever ridden him," she murmured into his chest. She looked up at him, captivated by the raw emotion she found there.

Before he realized what he was doing, he bent his head and kissed her. Their lips met, and his heart exploded, his resolve evaporating like the dew on the grass. Her ardent response surprised and delighted him. Tangling his hand in her disheveled hair, he deepened his kiss until his heart pounded so loudly in his ears, he could hear nothing else. Finally, he pulled back slightly to stare into her eyes once again. "Elizabeth," he whispered.

The moment his lips touched hers, everything seemed to change. Her resolution gone, she melted into his embrace and returned his kiss, until, breathless, she had to pull away. "Forgive me, sir. That was highly improper of me," she whispered, her cheeks hot and her eyes shimmering. The reality of what she had just done settled heavily upon her. Concern filled her eyes. "What are we to do now?"

"I think thing there is only one thing for this." His lips lifted into a pleased smile that extended into his eyes. "You must marry me."

"Marry you? Do not joke with me thus; it is ungentlemanly!" She pulled away and took a step back and stared at him, eyes blazing. Her jaw dropped as her eyes bore into his. "You cannot be serious! I am not a suitable wife for a gentleman such as you."

"How can you say…"

"Oh quite easily, sir," she turned aside to pace beside the now quiet Surtur. "My faults are many and not difficult to discern. I am certain we have discussed this before, but I am willing to remind you since you appear to have forgotten. Let us begin with my fortune; it is most certainly not enough to tempt a man like you. I have no doubt that your sister has at least twenty thousand pounds, if not far more. My dowry can do little to replace such a loss to your capital, and that is not a hardship to be easily dismissed. There is no doubt you are very wealthy, but even you must feel a blow such as that. You live by the land, subject to the whims of weather. To lose such reserves must be considered a very foolish risk on your part.

"Beyond that, I am not nearly of the first circles and have no connections. What will that do to your sister's prospects?" He winced. "See, you know! As I understand, she is no older than Lydia. What kind of guardian would you be to her to fail to take into account the very severe effects I would have on her prospects? Can you afford to be so frivolous with her future?"

A pained expression filled his eyes. He pressed his lips tightly.

She took several more steps back. "Moreover, your family will have nothing to do with me; they will certainly eschew you on my behalf…"

"Stop it," he commanded, striding firmly to her. "I will hear no more of this."

"How dare you speak to me…"

He took her shoulders firmly and turned her to look at him. His heart tightened when he saw the tears flowing down her cheeks. "My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, how long has it been since I have considered you one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance? I believe I first had that thought here, in this field." He glanced about the grassy space. "You have grown only more dear to me since then."

"That changes nothing! I cannot alter what I am…"

"I do not want you to. What you are is already perfect—perfect for me. I am a country gentleman, like your father. My family is an ancient line of landed gentry. We are tied to our home and our lands, not to society and its whims. London and its frivolities hold little appeal to me. I already know you love the land as I do, and manage it as passionately as I. With what other woman could I have spoken for hours on the theory of crop rotations or the merits of a seed drill? Such romantic topics, I know, are enough to spur the imagination of any young woman!" He threw his head back with a sonorous laugh. "Do you not understand what a delight it is to have a conversation of substance with a woman I care for? Never, never have I experienced such a thing, and I do not believe I can give that up. As to your fortune, I know what you did for Longbourn, and I have no doubt that with your help, we can replace my sister's fortune easily enough. I do not need to marry with regards to money."

She stared into his eyes longingly. "But, my father…"

He brushed her tears away with his thumb. She pressed her cheek into his palm, and he caressed her brow. "Your father has already given me permission to try to change your mind about marriage."

"That is not what I meant!" She scowled. "I cannot believe…"

He silenced her with another kiss. "Though he is blind, I believe he might see more clearly than any of us. Do not take offense at him."

Pressing into his hand again, she sighed. "I do not; he only wants the best for his daughters. But I do not think he realizes…"

"He is no fool; he knows. But trust me, I would never see your father harmed by anything I had the power to change. Whatever might be done for him, I am willing to arrange. Be it a steward, a companion or even to live at Pemberley, it can be managed. I admire him greatly and will not see him suffer, even for the sake of making you my wife."

"He does not adapt easily to such things…" she protested weakly.

"I understand." He sighed and drew her tightly to him again.

Somehow, in the depth of his embrace, she knew that he did.

"There is time, though. The truth is, I am not at liberty to marry right now. There are pressing family obligations of which I cannot speak, but which must be fulfilled before I am free to follow my desires." He cradled the top of her head under his chin. "I would that we did not have to wait, but I have no choice. You have my word that I will explain when the time is right and my responsibilities are satisfied, but for now, I cannot. I suppose there is a blessing in that as it allows us the time to provide whatever your father needs to make the transition."

"How long?" she whispered hesitantly.

"I am sorry; I do not know. I know it is a great deal to ask, but will you wait for me?" He was certain that his heart stopped in the moment she took to answer.

Finally he felt her nod. "If, in that time, my father's needs can be met and I am assured of his happiness and security, as well as that of my sisters, I will wait for you, as long as it may take. If that cannot be accomplished, then…." I suppose I have lost nothing in the waiting.

"Shh," he silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Say no more, m'lady, I have my answer." He kissed her again, his heart finally beating once more. She melted into his arms.

Several moments later, Surtur nudged them both. Darcy laughed heartily, reaching to stroke the stallion's nose. "He is a jealous one." Darcy watched as Surtur laid his head on Elizabeth's shoulder and snorted softly. "But it looks as though you have won him quite decidedly."

Elizabeth reached up to stroke the horse's cheek. Suddenly she frowned. "I was so distracted with him that I left something back on Oakham Mount…"

"May I have the privilege of escorting you there?"

"I would like that very much." Her smile warmed his heart.

Gathering Surtur's reins in one hand, he offered her his other arm. Together they made their way back up to the top of Oakham Mount, Elizabeth pointing out places of interest along the way. Once there, they sat together and shared the simple meal she had brought with her. Finally though, as the sun rose higher and higher, they knew they had to return. As they slowly made their way back, both wondered if what they hoped for would ever truly come to pass.

[sup]1[/sup] A bargain whereby the purchaser is taken in. It is also used for marriages contracted solely for monetary gain, a reference to women being bought and sold like cattle in Smithfield.