Falling at Pemberley Chapter 8

Now that their meeting is finally over, perhaps things will start improving for Darcy and Elizabeth. But then again, maybe not. Jane’s letter is read in this chapter, but I wanted to remind you that back in Chapter 1 we found out that Lydia had not gone to Brighton, so Jane’s letter will contain a different subject matter. When I referred to something being canon, it was the letter, not necessarily its contents. Also, I am of the opinion that Darcy had told Georgiana about Elizabeth. What all he told her we are not certain, but in Jane Austen’s P&P, Darcy tells Elizabeth, “There is also one other person in the party who more particularly wishes to be known to you.” He then tells her he would like to introduce her to his sister. Why else would Georgiana be interested in meeting her if he had not told her something of his admiration for her. (This assumption on my part plays a large part in the first story I ever wrote, “Assumed Engagement.”) So I am writing this on the belief that he told her everything – even Elizabeth’s refusal.

And as some of you requested in the comments last week, we get to hear some of Darcy’s thoughts in this chapter. Here is the link to Chapter 1 if you need it. And also, since you now know that Elizabeth is called ‘magpie’ or ‘Maggie-pie’ by her father, I will now use the picture of the magpie for my future image here (painted by my dear sister, Cheryl). Hope you enjoy this chapter.

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Chapter 8

Darcy slowly walked to his chambers, looking down at his bandaged hand as he did. He could not believe that Elizabeth was in his home, had walked the halls, slept in one of the rooms, and strolled through Pemberley’s gardens and grounds. He stopped and glanced out a window that overlooked the gardens. He wondered what she thought of Pemberley, and he could not help but wonder what she now thought of him!

He heard Georgiana playing her new instrument and set out in that direction. He came to the door and stood quietly until she finished playing.

“Brother?” She slowly turned on the piano bench.

Darcy smiled. “How did you know I was here?”

She tilted her head. “I heard you.” She gave him a mischievous smile.” I always hear you, as much as you try to sneak up on me.”

“I sneak up on you because you always cease playing when you know I am here.”

Georgiana lifted a brow. “Do I?” She smiled. “But I always begin again.” After a moment, she asked, “How are you, Fitzwilliam?”

“I am well.” He drew in a deep breath.

“Are you?”

He shook his head and shrugged. “I am still attempting to make sense of this.”

“And by this, you mean Miss Bennet’s being here?”

He silently nodded and walked over to her. He rested his elbows on the piano and clasped his hands, asking, “Georgiana, did you, by any chance, have anything to do with Miss Bennet being in the rose garden earlier?”

Georgiana rose and came to her brother’s side, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. “I cannot imagine what you are talking about.” She looked up at him with a smile. “You saw her then?”

“I did.” he said as he covered her fingers with his other hand. “Did you have anything to do with it?”

“Well, I suppose I may have recommended we walk out to see the garden together, and when I was called in for a dress fitting, I may have suggested she continue on to see the rose garden.”

“How did you know I was out there?”

“What makes you think I knew you were there?”

Raising a brow, he sent her a pointed look. “Georgie?”

She shook her head. “All right. You said you were going out for a while to either walk or ride because you needed to think. I knew that since it appeared that it was about to rain, you would likely do neither, but would go to the potting shed, instead, to do some wood carving. That is where you always retreat when you need time alone to think, is it not?”

Darcy looked at his sister incredulously. “Do I do that?”

Georgiana leaned her head against her brother. “You most certainly do, except when you are indoors, you are in the library.”

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “You know me better than anyone else, Georgie.”

She gave his arm a squeeze. “So what are you going to do?”

“Do? About what?”

She let out a laugh. “You know very well about what. I saw your reaction when you realized Miss Bennet was in the house. Your feelings for her are as strong as they were when you first wrote to me about her. Do you think her feelings for you have improved?” She lifted her brows encouragingly.

He let out a slow breath. “Things are not looking favourably in that quarter.” He held up one finger. “Number one – she made a point of telling Mrs. Reynolds that while we were acquainted, it was a trifling acquaintance.”

Georgiana gave him a wistful smile.

He held up a second finger. “Number two – she told me, as we waited out the storm in the potting shed, that she had tried to talk her aunt and uncle out of coming to Pemberley, and number three…” He held up his third finger. “She concealed her presence from me several times as she did not wish for me to see her.”

Georgiana winced as she held up four fingers, prompting her brother to groan. “Four?”

She slowly nodded her head. “She led us to believe her name was Miss Gardiner.”

Darcy pursed his lips and was silent for a moment. “Indeed, and it was not a misapprehension on our part. It was intentional, on her part.”

Georgiana seemed to ponder this and smiled. “If you ask me, I think this is all highly in her favour.”

Darcy looked at her askance. “Whatever do you mean?”

Georgiana squeezed her brother’s hand. “Fitzwilliam, most women would love to come here if only to see you, as they imagine themselves becoming the Mistress of Pemberley. They will plot and scheme to attract your attention any way they can.”

Darcy laughed. “That is a rather interesting way to look at it, but I do not think this reasoning is at all in my favour.”

“We shall have to wait to see on that account, but you have not answered my question. What do you intend to do?”

Darcy inhaled deeply and moved his fingers in a circular motion across the shiny, smooth wood of the piano. “I cannot be certain. With Miss Westerfield here, I do not think there is much I can do, but…” He brought up his other hand and fingered the wrapping on his wound.

Georgiana looked down and noticed it. “Oh, dear! What happened?”

He lifted his brows. “This? I suppose you could say Miss Bennet caused it.”

Georgiana gasped. “How?”

“When she stepped into the potting shed to get out of the rain, I was about to cut away some wood on the bird I was carving. I looked up and was so stunned to see her, the knife slipped.” He studied the cloth wound about his hand. “Instead of cutting into the wood, I cut into my hand.”

“You are always so careful.”

“Normally, but this… I was not expecting her to walk in at that moment. I was still… shocked from finding out she was here, and… yes… I did go to the potting shed to think. I needed to prepare myself for an inevitable encounter. I was pondering how I would act – how I ought to act if – and when – I saw her. It was then that she walked in. I was not prepared to see her and reacted.” He looked down. “My hand suffered because of a sudden and unexpected move of the carving knife.”

Georgiana smiled. “And perhaps a sudden and unexpected beating of your heart?” She laughed at her brother’s grimace.

“I will have the doctor look at it when he comes tomorrow. In the meantime, I shall have it dressed more properly.”

“Well, even though it was a painful encounter, I am glad you finally saw each other.”

He chuckled. “Georgie, I do not want you to get any ideas about Miss Bennet and me.”

“You are not going to give up before you find out how she feels, are you?”

“Not necessarily, but I must proceed with caution. I am not certain I can endure another…” Darcy drew in a breath and gave a quick shake of his head. “But I have invited her and her aunt and uncle to dine with us this evening. We shall eat in the smaller dining room, as it is an easier walk for Mr. Gardiner from his room.” He turned to look at her. “I do not know if it was the wisest thing for me to do. I extended the invitation before I really thought it through. I did not take into consideration what torture this might prove to be for me.”

“Torture? Do you mean if you find she still despises you?”

Darcy hung his head. “Even if she no longer despises me, she may not ever return my affection as I…” He gave his head a shake. “No, I ought to have left things as they were.”

Georgiana leaned against his arm. “You mean leaving them to eat in their rooms and then for you never to see her again when they depart Pemberley? No, I believe you did the right thing, Brother.”

“It does not bode well that the Westerfields are here. I do not know what to do about Miss Westerfield, especially with all the rampant rumours abounding, and from what I recollect, her father has quite a temper. I am not certain how he will react to having people in trade dining with us, and I have no idea what her expectations are, let alone her parents.” He let out a loud huff. “I do not even know what my expectations are concerning her.”

“Well, we shall handle that when the time comes.”

“We shall?” he asked with a laugh.

“Of course. Oh, and Brother, as for Miss Bennet, I will do everything in my power to make certain she hears only glowing reports about you.” She poked her finger into his ribs. “And you had best be prepared to receive a great deal of praise this evening, which I know makes you exceedingly uncomfortable.”

Darcy wrapped his arm about his sister. “Not when it comes from you, Georgie.”

The young girl smiled and looked up at him. “I am curious about something. How did you and Miss Bennet get back to the house in all that rain?”

Darcy pursed his lips, thinking he need not tell Georgiana everything. “Very carefully.” He grinned and tugged on a blond ringlet that framed his sister’s face. “Now you ought to run along and dress for dinner.”

Georgiana stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “I will have you know that while I was somewhat instrumental in directing Miss Bennet to the rose garden, I had absolutely nothing to do with making it rain when it did.”

Darcy shook his head and laughed. “Go ready yourself for dinner, you little imp!”

He watched as Georgiana walked away laughing. His chest constricted as he considered everything that was pressing down upon him at the moment, all of them potentially affecting him – and his sister – in one way or another.

One of those things was taking a wife. He pondered what it might mean to him if he gave in to the leanings and yearnings of his heart. Elizabeth might never be prevailed upon to marry him, as she had so vehemently declared, no matter what he did. Was it worth putting his heart at risk again and receive yet another refusal from her? He had no idea whether she had even read the letter he had presented to her the morning after his disastrous proposal. From her comment acknowledging Wickham’s disreputable behaviour, however, he suspected she had.

“I seem to have no ability to think rationally when Miss Elizabeth Bennet is near me,” he reasoned. “What am I doing even considering this?”  He turned from the piano and leaned against it. “And yet…” His heart suddenly leapt, and the slightest smile appeared on his face. “How can I not?”

*~*~*

When Elizabeth returned to her room, she sat down at a small dressing table. A smile threatened to appear as she took her fingers and aimlessly attempted to straighten her damp hair. Just as quickly, however, she dropped her hand over her rapidly beating heart. Does he still have feelings for me, or is he merely being the gracious master of his estate to the Gardiners and me? He certainly did not have to invite us to dine with him.

She studied her reflection in the mirror and sighed. And what about the beautiful Miss Westerfield?

Elizabeth stood up and walked to the dressing room, pulled out a soft blue dress, and held it up to her. Whatever the thoughts, reasoning, and feelings that had directed his actions earlier, she had to admit she had enjoyed it – probably more than she should have.

When she finished changing into the dress, she sat down and looked at the letter on her bed. “Oh, Jane! I nearly forgot about your letter.” She let out a giggle. “If only I could tell you the reason for neglecting you. You would certainly not believe it.”

She quickly opened it and began reading.

Dearest Lizzy,

How I miss you! How we all miss you! We trust you are enjoying your time with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and are seeing many lovely sights in Derbyshire. We are all doing well, as are the Phillipses and the Lucases.

Recently, we have been kept busy and were entertained with several parties and engagements. This has provided great enjoyment for our mother and a diversion for our two youngest sisters. Lydia still harbours resentment towards Papa for forbidding her to go to Brighton, and Kitty, though relieved that Lydia was not allowed to go, is still brooding about not being invited in the first place. When the regiment left, our two youngest sisters complained continually about there being nothing to do; our recent engagements have helped alleviate that.

There was more general news about her family that Elizabeth read with great pleasure. It was good to have finally received a letter from her dear sister. But the last paragraphs of the letter caused Elizabeth some concern.

Lizzy, there is something I must share with you, and I really do not know what to do about it. The Gouldings’ son, Arthur, has returned home from the navy. He did well for himself and is a Lieutenant Captain. He has been attending all the social engagements and is paying me a great deal of attention.

Mother insists that if he asks for my hand, I must accept it. She says she cannot tolerate another missed chance. I know she refers to Mr. Bingley’s leaving and your turning down Mr. Collins. Oh, heavens, what would she do if she were to discover you also turned down another! Each day I fear that Mr. Goulding will come to speak to me or go to Father for his consent. It is not that I dislike him; he is very cordial and pleasant, but I do not love him.

Oh, Lizzy, when I used to think of marriage to Mr. Bingley, I had such feelings of eager anticipation. When I think of marriage to Mr. Goulding, I shiver in dread. I wish you were here to help me stand up to Mother. I do not think I will be able to go against her will in this. Father seems to have taken her side, saying he is a pleasant enough fellow and I ought to seriously consider it. He may be teasing – I never can tell, but I do not want to take the chance.

I hope you come home before any offer is made. I would feel so much more at ease about this if I had you standing beside me to advise me – and to stand up to Mother. I shall never love anyone as much as I loved Mr. Bingley.

I hope you are having a wonderful visit, and I look forward to your return. 

Yours always,
Jane

“Oh, poor Jane.” Elizabeth closed her eyes and shook her head. “Please do not do accept this man solely out of coercion! You must only accept a man’s offer out of love, admiration, and respect!”

She placed the letter on the small table next to the bed and opened the door to join the Gardiners, almost colliding with her aunt.

“Oh, Aunt Gardiner. I was just going to join you.”

“I came to ready myself for dinner and see if you needed any assistance.”

“No, I am ready. I was just reading Jane’s letter.”

“And how is everyone faring?”

Elizabeth retrieved the letter and handed it to her aunt. “I shall let you decide.”

As Mrs. Gardiner read the letter, a compassionate look touched her features. “Poor Jane. I know how difficult it would be for her to defy your mother.”

“Yet she must!” Elizabeth said. “Mr. Goulding may have done well in the navy, but we have known him all his life. He does not have the kind, generous heart that Jane does. I even recollect him having a short temper. Does a man ever outgrow that?” She shook her head vehemently with a look of repugnance colouring her features. “He will never do for her!”

Her aunt replaced the letter on the table, and she took Elizabeth’s hand. “Let us hope and pray he does not offer for her before we return. Try not to worry.”

“How can I not worry about Jane when she is faced with this? I shall try not to, but it will likely be difficult.” She stamped her foot. “If only it were me instead of her! I would have no qualms about turning him down, no matter what Mother said!”

Mrs. Gardiner chuckled. “Lizzy, I am grateful it is not you, for if it were to be known that you had turned down three offers of marriage, I can only imagine what people would think of you.”

“Well, they shall never hear about the second, as long as Jane and you and Uncle Gardiner do not speak of it!”

“Our lips are sealed, dearest Elizabeth. You know that.” She leaned over and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek.

Once both ladies were ready, Elizabeth looked at her aunt and smiled. “Shall we go? It might take Uncle some time to walk to the sitting room.”

“Good thought, Lizzy.”

When they stepped into his room, Mr. Gardiner was sitting on the edge of his bed, and he greeted them with a smile that lit up his face.

“Ah, here are my two favourite ladies, and how lovely you both look!”

“Thank you,” they replied, returning the smile.

As they walked slowly to the nearby sitting room, Mr. Gardiner’s wife and niece encouraged him to use the cane both to keep his balance and support his weight. He was walking farther than he had walked since the accident, and they were all concerned that he might do something that would make his injuries worse.

As they slowly approached the sitting room, they could hear voices, and Elizabeth surmised that Mr. and Miss Darcy were already there, along with the Westerfields. She heard Miss Westerfield’s soft laughter several times before stepping in.

When they came to the door, she saw that Mr. Darcy was seated beside Mr. Westerfield and conversing with him. Mrs. Westerfield and their daughter were speaking with Georgiana. They all turned to them when they stepped in.

“Ah! Our other guests have arrived!” Darcy stood and walked over to them, smiling. “Welcome! How was the long journey, Mr. Gardiner? I hope it was not too strenuous.”

“Oh, no, not at all.” Mr. Gardiner chuckled and looked at the two ladies on either side of him. “I have the loveliest and finest caregivers a person could ask for.” He leaned towards Mr. Darcy and added softly, “As well as Mrs. Reynolds. We have been spoiled by her.”

Both men laughed as Miss Darcy approached them. She invited them to join them and take a seat. “If you would like some light refreshment before the meal, there is food and drink on the side table.”

“Thank you, Miss Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “Edmund, would you care for anything?”

“Thank you, my dear, but no. I believe the only thing I need is a chair.” He looked at Mr. Darcy with a teasing raised brow. “I feel somewhat fatigued from the long journey.”

As they joined the others, Darcy made the introductions. The Westerfields were apparently long-time acquaintances of the Darcys, and they currently lived in a town home in London a few blocks from his. He introduced Elizabeth as an acquaintance he had made while visiting a good friend in Hertfordshire, and she and the Gardiners, who were from London, had been on a tour of Derbyshire and his home when the accident occurred.

Darcy stood and waited for everyone to be seated. Being a smaller sitting room, there were fewer chairs and only one sofa, and Elizabeth, when faced with a choice of whether to sit in the adjoining chair to where he had been sitting or one on the other side of Georgiana, opted for the latter.

Mr. Gardiner took the chair beside the sofa, claiming the sturdier back would be kinder to his injuries, and his wife sat on the other side of Mrs. Westerfield, across from Elizabeth.

The ladies resumed their conversation, which apparently concerned the concerts and plays they had attended in London the previous season. Georgiana had only attended two, so the Westerfield ladies were more than willing to offer their praises and critiques of the half dozen or more they had attended.

When they finished speaking about the most recent concert they attended, Mrs. Westerfield looked at Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth. “Have you attended any noteworthy concerts or plays of late? Mr. Darcy said you live in London.”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “We do live in town, but as we have four young children at home, we seldom have the time or energy to attend an evening event.”

“I see,” Mrs. Westerfield said. “Where are the children now?”

Elizabeth answered. “They are currently staying with my family in Hertfordshire. My elder sister, Jane, loves the children dearly and is always willing to watch them.”

“I see,” Mrs. Westerfield said and took a sip of tea.

“We were able to attend a concert in the park this past spring when Elizabeth’s sister, Jane, was staying with us,” Mrs. Gardiner added. “It was enjoyable, and the weather cooperated very nicely.”

At her aunt’s mention of Jane, Elizabeth unwittingly looked up and saw that Mr. Darcy was eyeing her. When he quickly looked away, she wondered if he had heard her sister’s name mentioned, causing him to recollect their meeting in Kent when she accused him of interfering in Jane and Mr. Bingley’s particular regard for each other.

Miss Westerfield turned to Elizabeth. “We spoke earlier about Miss Darcy’s playing and singing and the new pianoforte her brother gave her as a gift.” She turned and patted Georgiana’s hand. “You are so fortunate to have such a devoted brother!” She turned back to Elizabeth. “Do you play and sing?”

“A little, but from all I have heard concerning Miss Darcy’s proficiency, I fear I would play very ill in comparison.”

Miss Westerfield clasped her hands, and a smile lit her face. “We must have our own little concert one evening while we are here.”

“That is a wonderful idea,” Mrs. Westerfield said. “It was at a musical soiree in town that Mr. Darcy first heard Angeline sing and play, and I am confident he was captivated with her performance.” She smiled at her daughter, whose eyes turned to Mr. Darcy. “I believe he said that she sang as sweetly as an angel.”

Elizabeth could not help but turn to observe Mr. Darcy, as well, and quickly looked back when she saw that he was looking in the general direction of both Miss Westerfield and herself. If he was looking at Miss Westerfield, the smile the young lady sent back to him was likely in return to one he directed to her.

Elizabeth looked at Georgiana, wondering if she would feel comfortable performing for this larger group of people. “What are your thoughts about having a small concert, Miss Darcy?”

She looked at Miss Westerfield and then back to Elizabeth. “I think I would be willing to play as long as I do not have to sing.” She let out a breathy nervous chuckle. “I would feel less inclined to suffer any apprehension if I am only required to play.” She then turned to look at her brother. “But perhaps we can convince Fitzwilliam to sing while I play. Most people do not know that he has a very pleasant baritone singing voice.”

Miss Westerfield’s eyes lit up with delight. “Oh, that sounds delightful! I had no idea he could sing.”

When all eyes turned to Mr. Darcy, he looked over with a sidelong glance. “What is it you are saying? From the mischievous look on Georgiana’s face, I presume she is scheming something that pertains to me.”

“Oh, nothing mischievous,” Miss Westerfield said. “Your sister was just telling us that you have a pleasant baritone voice, and if we have a little concert, you might be persuaded to sing while she plays.” She lifted her brows as if in question.

Darcy frowned. “Georgiana knows that it is only on the rare occasion that I sing.”

“Yes, but he always insists that I perform before others by playing and singing.” She smiled playfully. “I believe he ought to, as well.”

“Perhaps we ought not insist upon it,” Miss Westerfield said, “if he does not wish to.”

“And why should a gentleman who has a talent, not perform… when he expects it of his sister?” Elizabeth sent Mr. Darcy a challenging glare. “I am certainly in favour of hearing both Mr. and Miss Darcy perform.” In all truth, she wanted to hear him sing, for there was nothing she enjoyed more than an agreeable masculine voice – especially a baritone.

He shook his head. “I doubt you would want to hear me sing.”

“Yet, your sister claims you have a most pleasing voice,” Elizabeth said.

She watched him send a pointed, yet teasing, glance at his sister, and he turned back to Elizabeth. “She is my devoted sister, and I fear she is biased.”

“Oh, but sir, I am certain you deserve all of her praise,” Mrs. Westerfield said.

“I cannot speak to that,” Mr. Darcy said. 

The party was called to dinner, bringing the conversation to an end. Elizabeth thought she saw him breathe out a puff of air in relief.

They stepped into the small dining room which had a table with eight chairs fitted nicely about it. Darcy looked at his sister and nodded, as if to encourage her to assume her duties. She took in a deep breath and smiled nervously, taking her seat, and the others followed.

As the meal was served, the initial conversation around the table was light and touched on many subjects. At length, however, it became more spirited as the topic addressed the Prince Regent and the Tory and Whig parties. Elizabeth, being a young lady and a guest, held her tongue, although if she had been better acquainted with the Westerfields, she might have been willing to express her views on these subjects, as her beliefs often went against Mr, Darcy’s opinion. The Westerfields, and especially Miss Westerfield, seemed to agree with him on every subject.

Finally, after biting her tongue long enough, she offered, “I cannot agree with the staunch Whig dictates. To believe that someone in the lower classes cannot and should not attain to the same wealth and respect a landowner might possess is nonsensical.” She shook her head. “Particularly, in regard to respect. A Whig may have the deference of others, but oftentimes has not rightfully earned it, and more often than not, does not deserve it.”

Everyone around the table was silent, and Elizabeth thought she perceived a slight upward curvature of Mr. Darcy’s mouth.

At length, Mr. Westerfield leaned forward to address Darcy. “Well, we are all entitled to our own opinions.” He looked at Darcy. “Do you have hounds? I do not think there is anything that can compare to a good fox hunt.”

“I do have hounds,” Darcy said. “And I agree there is nothing more exhilarating.”

“Oh, yes!” agreed Miss Westerfield. “Nothing so exhilarating. I have enjoyed watching many a fox hunt. It is always so exciting.”

Mr. Westerfield looked at Elizabeth. “I believe you said you have a home in the country. Has your father hosted fox hunts?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, no. My father has five daughters and loves to spend his time reading, so he has very little interest in it.”

“Do you not have an interest in watching a fox hunt, Miss Bennet?” Miss Westerfield asked. “Many women do.”

“I do not. I actually find it distasteful.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Elizabeth. Darcy tilted his head as he looked at her. “And why is that, Miss Bennet?” he asked.

She met his eyes, which looked back intently at her. She forced herself to turn away, for she could not think clearly with him staring at her so. “I do not think it can be good for the dogs, which run avidly about, and the poor horses, which have to follow the dogs and jump fences, streams, and ditches, and go around trees and bushes. I am certain many a rider has fallen off.”

“And he probably got right back on, eh, Darcy?” Mr. Westerfield asked.

“If at all possible,” he answered. “Miss Bennet, the dogs love what they do. They are bred for that very purpose, and a horse must be well-trained to follow the rider’s lead, so that the rider, who also must have excellent horsemanship skills, can guide the horse to accomplish those feats.”

“A little bumping and bruising does little to dampen a gentleman’s spirits while doing something he loves.” Mr. Westerfield declared.

Everyone murmured their agreement, even the Gardiners, and the table fell silent for a moment.

At length, Elizabeth said softly, “And then there are the poor foxes.”

Darcy stared at his plate for a moment, his eyes widening. “The poor foxes?”

Elizabeth heard her aunt clear her throat slightly, and she felt a slight nudge coming from her direction. She picked up the napkin from her lap and dabbed her mouth. “Would you like it if you were being chased out of your home and had to run from a wild pack of dogs and horses and men to survive?” She shook her head. “I think not.”

“You do realize, Miss Bennet, that foxes cause a great deal of damage to a farmer’s crops and chickens. Without the fox hunt, their numbers would only grow.” Mr. Darcy sent her a pointed look and began to rub his jaw with his hand.

“I do understand that, Mr. Darcy, as our home has suffered loss due to foxes. But for men to call this sport, when they do nothing but ride? They are not even the ones who kill the foxes; it is usually the dogs. I see no sport in this at all. If you must shoot a fox that is raiding your garden, so be it. But I find the whole idea of fox hunting as a sport distasteful.”

Mr. Westerfield laughed. “Oh, but the sport is in the ride. As you yourself claimed, there is the skill of jumping over one obstacle after another. It is definitely a sport and most injuries are minor.” He paused, and then turned his attention to Darcy. “What happened to your hand, Darcy?”

Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy flinch slightly, dropping his hand slightly as he looked down at the wrapping. She felt her own cheeks warm at the question.

He pursed his lips and looked up again to meet Mr. Westerfield’s questioning gaze. “A minor accident. It is of little concern.” The chuckle following his reply seemed forced to Elizabeth’s ears. “As you said earlier, a gentleman’s spirits are rarely dampened when he is injured doing something he loves.”

Elizabeth could not look at him. As she stared down at her plate, she considered this man who was becoming more and more a mystery to her as more and more of his character was being revealed. She thought she had known everything about him she cared to know. His passion for carving birds was certainly a surprise.

Mr. Gardiner spoke up. “While I have never participated in a fox hunt either, I am certain my niece would change her mind if she saw one first hand.”

“Too bad it is not fox hunting season,” Mr. Westerfield said. “I would love to see your hounds do their work.”

“Even if it were hunting season, I would say the rains we had today would have precluded it.”

Westerfield shrugged. “It is a shame. I know Angeline would have enjoyed it greatly.”

She eagerly nodded. “Oh, I would, but perhaps there will be another time.” 

She smiled at Mr. Darcy, and Elizabeth knew exactly what she was thinking.

Mr. Westerfield pointed his fork towards the window, which had a sheet of rainwater running down it. “Speaking of the rain, that downpour certainly arrived unexpectedly this afternoon.”

“We have been in great need of it. I am grateful,” Darcy said.

Mr. Westerfield nodded. “But as I happened to be standing at the window in our chambers looking out, what do you think I saw?”

“What, Father?” Miss Westerfield inquired.

“Two people, a man and a woman, who were obviously surprised by the downpour.” He turned his attention back to his plate, stirring around the food with his fork.

Elizabeth’s insides tightened, and she held her breath as she waited in dread for him to continue. She stole a quick glance at Darcy, who in turn was eyeing the gentleman with a wary look.

Mr. Westerfield looked up. A scowl darkened his face, and he wagged his finger at Darcy. “I was truly shocked, Darcy, by what I saw.”

Elizabeth looked down to her plate, wondering what might follow. She hoped – but highly doubted – that would be the end of it.

Chapter 9