Darcy looked down on the lawn in amazement. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was frolicking with one of his pointers, downright frolicking! He could not remember seeing a gentlewoman interacting with a dog, save to protect her skirt from a muddy hunting dog or to caress a spoiled pug.
When his man had dressed him, he took himself downstairs. This was too intriguing.
He lingered at the doorway, watching her chase the dog in circles, then resume play with a foraged stick. When he approached, she stopped and bowed.
"Mr. Darcy, I believe this dog belongs to you," she said politely.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet," he bowed. "Good morning. You two seem to be enjoying the air so well together that I could make no objection."
"He is a delightful animal. What is his name?" she asked, smiling at him.
Darcy was struck. He had not named his dogs since boyhood, but the story was not one that he could share with a young lady. Elizabeth noted his discomposure, demurred her inquiry and threw the stick. The dog returned it eagerly, dropping it at her feet and seeking her hand with his head. She caressed him automatically, her eyes still upon Darcy, touched by his distress.
The sight of her innate pleasure in the dog touched him deeply. He was moved to share his childhood tragedy with her but knew not how to start. He felt her touch his hand and looked at her, startled to find that she had drawn so close.
"Mr. Darcy, I am sorry to find that I have distressed you. Is there aught I can do for you?"
A sudden thought arose that there was much Miss Elizabeth Bennet could do to ease his distress and add to his happiness, but he relentlessly drove it down.
Her eyes, soft with sympathy, made him feel that he could tell her anything, and he allowed her to draw him with her to a bench, where they sat together, the pointer resting with his chin between their knees.
"I had a boyhood companion, the child of my father's steward, who was raised with me. My father treated him as his own, and we studied and played together. His name was… is… George Wickham.
"There was a particular retriever pup that I had been given. To me, he seemed to be the stuff of legend. We were studying Rome via Shakespeare, and I named him Julius.
"One day when I came to the schoolroom, Julius lay in my seat, stabbed through. I was inconsolable. My father explained to me that George had meant nothing bad by it, that he was merely inspired by our study. Our tutor told me that man's dominion over beast meant that George's enjoyment was more important than the pup. I would be given another and all would be well. I never named that dog, nor any others."
Elizabeth wiped away tears and petted the pointer.
"Your poor pup! What a dreadful little boy, and your tutor no better. I hope your god-brother was better behaved toward your sister."
Darcy flushed, again caught unprepared. He rose swiftly. "Good morning, Miss Elizabeth," he said and quickly strode into the hall. Elizabeth wondered how she had offended the great man. With reluctance, she said good-bye to the nameless dog and went inside to check on Jane.
After breakfast, Darcy caught Elizabeth on the stair as she returned to her sister.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth, for my abruptness earlier," he said. She looked down on him in astonishment.
"I must beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy, as I unintentionally, again, intruded upon painful matters."
"I find that I would like to share the matter with you. Perhaps if Jane is well enough you might be at liberty to take a turn about the garden with me?"
Touched by his desire to share with her, she assured him that were Jane well enough to spare her, he should have her company. He watched her dart up the stairs, feeling himself on dangerous ground, but with no desire to retreat.
Darcy lingered in the hallway, and before long Elizabeth reappeared.
"Jane is resting comfortably," she announced happily. He led her into the garden and began his painful tale.
"Is your sister well?" Elizabeth asked, shocked by Darcy's revelation of Wickham's attempted elopement with Georgiana.
"She is very well. She has her own establishment in Ramsgate, which has an excellent reputation as a healthful spot, as well as one with pleasant society for young persons."
"And this Wickham, where is he?"
"I have heard nothing of him since that day," Darcy said. "I fear from what I know of his profligate ways that he has come to some bad end."
She looked at him, sympathy rising within her.
"I am so sorry for your suffering by this man. Your father must have cared deeply for him."
"He was the best man alive," Darcy said, smiling slightly at the memory. "His care was the foundation of our lives."
They had stopped and turned to face each other during their talk, and Darcy found that he had taken her hand. Her kindness was a balm to his ever-irritated spirit, and he found himself discounting all he had seen of her family's lack of gentility in light of her virtues.
He could not bear to relinquish her hand and kept hold of it as they continued the path. She allowed the attention, her resolution to dislike the man fading as he confided in her.
"Do you think you will stay in Hertfordshire long," she asked as they walked.
"Yes, I would stay for some time," he said offhandedly. Collecting himself, he continued, "Bingley intends to stay until the season, and we are to keep him company."
"You will find the shooting excellent. All our visitors say so," she said, reassured that he would be at hand. Her feelings had changed entirely, and she now wished to get to know him better.
Her mention of visitors made him think of men coming for the pheasants. How could they not be struck by this beauty? The desire to possess her, himself, made itself known to him, and the barriers that yesterday seemed insurmountable now began to seem tractable. He found himself asking when her father was available to attend to business, and she answered, pondering what could have prompted his question.
He was much more quiet until they returned to the house and she to Jane.
Darcy ignored Caroline's japes about fine eyes and three-mile walks, reverting to his own thoughts about Elizabeth's companionship.
That evening, Elizabeth sequestered herself with her sister after dinner. Bingley and Darcy remained after the ladies left, and Darcy bid his friend stay.
"You seem fond of Miss Bennet," Darcy ventured.
Bingley seemed relieved to hear his friend speak of it. "She is the most beautiful, the sweetest girl, Darcy," he said enthusiastically.
"But the Bennet family," Darcy said.
"The girls won't have much, but I needn't fuss about that," Bingley said. "The mother is over-enthusiastic about husbands, but what mama is not?"
"But the younger sisters. They are so wild," Darcy objected.
Bingley shrugged. "They are country girls. The elder sisters show how they will be when they are more settled. Not all girls are as quiet as Georgie."
Darcy shook his head. He wanted to be convinced, but his prudence alerted him to dangers.
"Are you truly thinking seriously about Miss Bennet?" he asked.
"Darcy, I think I love her," Bingley admitted. "The thought of her being here makes me feel… I know not how to say how it makes me feel. I wish she would never go from here."
"I am feeling the same way about Miss Elizabeth Bennet," Darcy admitted.
Bingley's face lit with delight. "I thought you were struck by her. So she is more handsome than you admitted at the assembly?"
Darcy confessed that he had been very mistaken about her attractions until her visit here, and now was having difficulty thinking of his future without her.
"That's just what I was thinking about Jane," Bingley said, then blushed for having spoken of her so familiarly.
Darcy gazed at his friend.
"We both seem to be on dangerous ground with the Bennets. Prudence would advise us to withdraw to town, to escape while we may."
"Prudence be damned," Bingley pronounced. "As soon as Miss Bennet is well enough to return home, I shall speak with her, then her father."
Darcy did not reprove him, thinking that he would perhaps speak with Mr. Bennet even sooner.
"It was so sad, Jane," Lizzy said. "Who could have thought Mr. Darcy to be hiding such tragedies?"
"You seem fully sympathetic to him now, Lizzy," Jane said teasingly.
"You didn't see him, Jane. He was nothing so proud as he was at the assembly or at dinner."
"I wish I had been there to see it," she said, smiling at her younger sister.
"And, Jane, I haven't yet told you, he spoke of going to father," Lizzy confessed.
"But Lizzy, you scarce know each other!" Jane said, shocked.
"Perhaps he didn't mean it that way," Elizabeth said, considering. "I had been speaking of the hunting. Perhaps he was thinking of asking about our covers."
"That seems more likely, given the time of year," Jane said sensibly.
"You are right, as always, Jane. Now, rest, I've kept you talking too long."
The next morning saw Darcy up early, pacing the lawn with the pointer. Elizabeth made her appearance, and Darcy strode to her eagerly.
"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth," he said, exhilarated to see her, finding her name irresistibly delicious on his tongue.
"Mr. Darcy, good morning," she said, smiling up at him.
"I thought perhaps you could help me think of a name for him," he said, petting the dog. Elizabeth accepted the challenge with relish, and they visited all the standard names, straying from the classics into modern literature, where they found surprising sympathies of taste in reading.
At last they settled upon the orthodox Rex, and she christened the dog with a kiss on the nose.
"Miss Elizabeth, there are many dogs at Pemberley," Darcy said, overcome. "Do you think you could help me name the rest of them?"
She stared at him in wonder. He reached for her hand.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, will you marry me?"
She trembled. This was so unexpected, yet she could not resist him.
"Yes," she said faintly.
Joy leapt through him at her answer. Delighted, he embraced her and brought his lips to hers.
Mr. Bennet was persuaded. Mrs. Bennet was overjoyed. Lydia and Kitty were envious. Jane and Bingley followed their example so closely that the couples were wed on the same day.
Elizabeth and Darcy journeyed north in the crisp fall. It should surprise no reader that her Christmas gift to her new husband was a retriever pup, nor that they named it together. It was the first of many.