Chapter 7

The ladies returned to Pemberly in the late afternoon, following a most successful trip to Lambton. Not only did they see the best shops and meet the shopkeepers, but Lady Catherine introduced them to several of their new neighbors, who were most pleased to make their acquaintances. The highlight of the trip was the visit to the confectioner. Georgiana bounced like a little girl at the new assortment of sweets brought out in honor of their arrival. Both Jane and Elizabeth agreed that these were among the best sweets they had ever enjoyed.

Jane and Lady Catherine retreated upstairs to rest before dinner—and in Lady Catherine's case, to hide a fresh supply of treats for the boys from the watchful eyes of their governess. Elizabeth paused at the foot of the stairs, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She studied Jane's movements for any sign of fatigue. Perhaps Jane was correct, her strength had returned. That would be a relief.

"Miss Elizabeth?" Georgiana asked softly.

Elizabeth shook her head and turned to look at Georgiana. "Forgive me. I was a bit distracted for a moment there."

"Are you fatigued?"

"No. Thank you for your concern. I just need to learn to stop my wool gathering." Elizabeth untied her bonnet.

"Oh, no do not ever do that!" Georgiana's eyes grew wide.

"Why do you say that? No one has ever given me such an injunction. It is usually quite the opposite."

Georgiana blinked and looked down, clasping her hands before her. "You have the most charming anecdotes. I love to listen to all your stories."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Those are just things that have happened to us. I am not sure how that relates."

"I know, but the way you tell them is so—so appealing. You speak so kindly, even of those who are most ridiculous. Surely it must take a great deal of reflection to be able to do so." Georgiana blushed and stared at her hands. "I imagine that must be what you are doing when you say you are wool gathering."

Elizabeth's face flashed hot. Her cheeks prickled and ears burned. She opened her mouth but closed it again when no words came forth.

"Oh!" Georgiana's covered her mouth with her hands. "I have embarrassed you! I am so sorry. I…I just admired…"

Elizabeth touched Georgiana's hand. "No, no, do not be concerned. I was only a bit startled. I cannot say anyone else has ever made note—"

"I was most improper of me. I never say the right thing." her voice hitched.

"Not at all, it was most kind. I am most complimented."

Georgiana blinked up at her, eyes bright. "Truly?"

"Absolutely." Elizabeth smiled broadly, though her cheeks still radiated heat.

"Good day, Miss Georgiana, Lizzy."

Both turned. Admiral Bennet strode toward them, settling his hat into place. "I am glad to see you have come back and looking so pleased." He nodded toward them. "Had you a pleasant outing?"

Elizabeth wrapped her arm in Georgiana's. "Very much so. Lady Catherine was so gracious in her efforts to introduce the best shopkeepers. I feel quite at home in Lambton now."

"Capitol." He tugged his coat. "I am taking a turn about the gardens. Would you care to accompany me?"

"Forgive me, sir." Georgiana curtsied. "My aunt directed me to return to my rooms to rest before dinner. I should go there now."

"Lizzy?" He offered the crook of his arm.

She slipped her hand in his arm and nodded. Georgiana climbed the stairs while the Bennets left for the garden.

For a quarter mile, Elizabeth and her father quietly wandered the shady path that led into the woods. Cool breezes darted among the trees, laced with the fragrance of loam and a touch of spring flowers. Somewhere in the dense canopy above a bird called to its mate and was answered in kind.

"I do believe there are paths like this on Alston's grounds," Admiral Bennet murmured, craning his neck toward the birdcalls.

"As much as I admire Pemberley's gardens, I shall enjoy walking our own. Perhaps Mr. Darcy or his steward might assist us in finding a competent gardener."

"Ah, yes, about that." He paused and released Elizabeth's arm. He cleared his throat and thumbed his labels. "Darcy has offered his help in finding a steward for Alston and given the alacrity with which we wish to accomplish settling in, it may be best for me to focus my efforts on the estate and allow you and Mrs. Hill to manage the house."

She pressed her lips tightly to suppress her smile. While his admission was pleasing, it was not enough, not if she was going to successfully act as mistress of Alston Hall. She stared at him and raised an eyebrow.

He ran a finger along the inside of his cravat and tugged it away from his throat. "Eh…I imagine this would be agreeable to you?"

She cocked her head and crossed her arms.

"Aye, Lizzy, just come out with it now."

"With what, sir?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. "A wise officer should trust his crew to know their business and let them be about it. I…I forgot that for a moment." The corners of his eyes and mouth drooped just a bit, and he sighed heavily.

She tucked her hand into his elbow again. "Mrs. Hill and I shall begin the process immediately."

He patted her hand, and they strolled further down the path.

[i] Thwack! Crack! Whack! Crack![/i]

"What the devil?" He stopped and scanned the woods.

Boyish laughter rang out.

"The boys found their swords!" Lizzy laughed and led the way through the trees. A small clearing opened up. In the center George and Francis faced each other, brandishing well-used wooden swords.

"Papa! Lizzy!" Philip shouted and ran toward them. He grabbed his father around the knees. "Miss Wexley gave us permission, sir." He looked up, blinking wide eyes.

"Of course she did." Papa ruffled Philip's hair.

"Come watch! George and David have never…" Philips grabbed his father's hand and dragged him into the clearing. "You can show them!"

Laughing, Lizzy followed behind.

"I dread to think the mischief those two have found." Darcy huffed. He stalked down the familiar well-worn path.

"You worry far too much, old man!" Fitzwilliam broke into a jog to catch up. "Miss Mallory said she gave them leave to play with their friends."

"That is precisely the point. All four of those boys, unsupervised?" Darcy threw his hands in the air and increased his pace.

"You and Wickham and I ran all over Pemberley unsupervised when we were their ages."

"I know, I know. Why do you think I am so concerned? If the three of us could get into that many scrapes, just think what George and David might be capable of under the influence of the Bennet twins?"

"Now be fair. They are fine boys—" Fitzwilliam breathed heavily.

"Fine, intelligent, energetic—"

"I see your point. " Fitzwilliam chuckled and increased his pace to keep up. "Young Master Francis—"

"He is just like you. The one who needs the most watching is his brother."

"Quiet little Philip? Surely not, his is just like you—" Fitzwilliam skidded to a stop and stared at Darcy.

Darcy flashed a tense smile and rushed past.

Richard rolled his eyes and trotted after him.

[i] Thwack! Crack! Whack! Crack![/i]

"There!" Darcy pointed toward the clearing where he, Fitzwilliam and Wickham had played as boys.

"Right like that! Capitol! Capitol! Parry! Yes, again!" Bennet clapped his hands sharply.

"Don't go easy on him, Lizzy! You can do better than that!" Francis pumped his fists at his sides.

"He is just a beginner. I was easy on you when you first learnt." Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder and neatly? dodged a neat? thrust from the wooden sword in George Darcy's hand.

"Papa!" David bounced up and down on his toes and waved. "Francis and Phillip have been showing us how to fight with swords."

"I can see that." Darcy strode to Bennet's side. "You have talked about little else since your friends arrived."

"See what I can do, Papa!" George shouted and swung his sword at Elizabeth.

"Oh!" She spun away and threw up her wooden sword to block. "You must remember to announce the start of a bout!"

"Sorry, Miss Elizabeth!" George looked down briefly.

"So you are the boys' sparring partner, or their teacher?" Fitzwilliam chuckled and cocked his eyebrow.

"Papa is the teacher." Elizabeth dipped her head toward her father. "And a very fine one at that."

"But she is very good, Uncle Fitz!" David exclaimed, rushing up toward them. "I bet she is as good as you!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Her cheeks reddened. "That was not a kind thing to say, Master David."

"But he's right, Lizzy!" Philip appeared at her side. "You are the best sword player in the family."

"Here." David took the sword from his brother's hand and pressed it at Fitzwilliam. "You try."

Fitzwilliam took the carved hardwood sword and turned it over in his hand. "This is a very fine practice sword." He glanced at Elizabeth and winked.

"Oh yes!" David and Philip bounced in unison.

"With your permission, Admiral?" Fitzwilliam raised the wooden sword in a solemn salute.

Bennet chuckled under his breath and took a small step backward. "Granted, but do not say you have not been warned. I taught her myself."

"Miss Elizabeth?" Fitzwilliam saluted her with sword.

She looked at Bennet, who grinned and nodded.

"Really, Richard!" Darcy huffed and crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth nodded and circled each other in the clearing.

Darcy held his breath, his heart beating a tattoo in his chest. How improper of both of them. But how compelling! She moved with a feline grace and assurance, unlike any woman he had known before. None on the dance floor could have matched the precision of her movements, the elegance of her style. He could not tear his eyes away. She bewitched him with every step, every clash of wood, every twist and dodge. Stunning, simply stunning.

She met Fitzwilliam's feint and thrust, besting his strength with her grace. How he envied his cousin. What would it be like to face such a partner? The acid taste of jealousy painted his tongue.

Fitzwilliam saw an advantage and seized it, backing her toward the stand of trees. Her foot snagged on a root, and she fell heavily on her side with a grunt. Dust and dry leaves flew up. Fitzwilliam slid forward, sword poised to finish the match.

With her free hand, she threw a handful of dirt into his face. With the other she pushed herself up and back to her feet.

Fitzwilliam shouted and staggered back, wiping the dirt from his face. "Gah!"

"And touché!" Elizabeth grinned, her sword touching his chest.

Fitzwilliam wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "That was decidedly ungentlemanly."

"I am not a gentleman." Elizabeth handed the sword to Philip and brushed the dirt from her shoulder and hands. She glanced over her shoulder.

Admiral Bennet approached. "Given some of the places we lived, I made sure my ladies could protect themselves." He placed his hand on the small of her back. "You must agree, Colonel, that if a woman takes up a sword, it is not likely a gentleman she will be facing."

"You are most correct, Admiral." He handed his sword to an impatient George. "Well done, Miss Elizabeth. I am most honored to have sparred with you." Fitzwilliam bowed deeply.

She curtsied. "If you will excuse me, I think it time for me to return to the house." Eyes fixed on the ground, she turned away.

Several steps later, she stood nose to nose with Darcy.

"Excuse me, sir!" she sputtered.

Her nearness stopped his heart. The fragrance of honeysuckle filled his awareness. He scarcely breathed for fear she would run away but longed to drink in the scent. Though he knew he was staring, he could not sooner tear his eyes form her than he could step away.

"I am sorry. I should have been paying better attention. Pray excuse me." She edged back and dropped a tiny curtsey.

"No, no, not at all. It was my…I…that was the most…"

"Unladylike display. I know. You must forgive me. I forget myself sometimes. We have lived far from civilized society for perhaps too long." She dropped her gaze. "Certainly you would not wish your sister—"

"No, no, not at all—"

Her face flushed and eyes brightened. She looked away and rubbed her shoulders.

Oh, no, what had she understood him to say? He drew a deep breath and prayed to find better words. "Are you injured, Miss Bennet?"

"No, sir. Thank you, I am quite well." Her hands dropped from her shoulders, and she clasped them before her.

His heart clenched with each beat, aching. "I am certain the boys—"

"Excuse me, sir. I must return to the house." She hurried away.

He stared after her, his strength draining away with the distance between them.