P&P The Untiold Stories: Darcy’s Discussions with Elizabeth about her staying at Rosings in future

Good morning! Easter time in England is lovely with the cherry blossoms in bloom. There was a huge tree outside of my children’s school that would rain petals down on us with the breeze. The children would also throw handfuls of petals up in the air and let them fall down upon them. It was part of the inspiration for this scene.

April 3, 1812

Elizabeth tarried as she walked the well-worn path to the grove. What if Mr. Darcy appeared again? She was still bewildered by the perverseness of mischance that brought him to that particular spot less than a se’nnight ago. Why would he have appeared there when she had not seen a soul in that part of the park since her arrival?

As they had walked, she made a point to tell him the orchard was a favorite  haunt of hers, but had he listened? No! Instead, the insufferable man appeared again two days later.

He had not appeared the day prior, but the weather had not been as fine. Perhaps he did not take his exercise if the sky was grey? Just as he might not walk if a light fog misted the grounds or the earth was damp after a light rain. Mr. Darcy was sullen and prideful enough for one to believe he possessed such an absurd notion.

Regardless, she had no wish to make idle conversation with Mr. Darcy! He was arrogant, condescending, and at times, he made the most inane prattle. His comment that day at the Parsonage about being settled too near her family. What could he have meant by it? Fifty miles was certainly not an easy distance, yet he insisted it a trifling thing if the roads were good. Fifty miles! The conversation was nonsensical; however, when had Mr. Darcy ever possessed good sense?

She rounded the bend, and her breath caught in her throat as it always did when she came upon the grove. Though the blossoms were nearly spent, the orchard was still magnificent. Clouds of blush-colored flowers shaded her from the morning sun whilst raindrops of rosy petals drifted from above with a gentle breeze.

Her fingers traced the rough bark of the first trunk as she left the trail to wend through the trees. A low branch ahead caught her eye, and she stretched to bring it down to her face, inhaling the sweet smell before it was gone for the season, not to return until next spring.

She released the limb, and to her delight, a shower of pink fluff rained upon her head. With a laugh, she shifted her bonnet, which hung from her arm, to strew the flowers that had landed inside.

This time of year was her favorite ! Cherry blossoms bloomed around Meryton and Longbourn, but no grove like this one existed at home. She was fortunate to have discovered its presence so soon in her stay. What a dreadful prospect to have missed this beautiful sight!

With a turn, she headed towards another low branch on the far side of the orchard, but came to an abrupt halt when Mr. Darcy emerged without warning from a hedgerow, which bordered one side of the copse.

He bowed and she curtsied. “Miss Elizabeth, how are you enjoying the grove? I do hope it meets with your expectations.”

With a start, she glanced at her surroundings and back to him. “Cherry blossoms never disappoint, Mr. Darcy. But, I must confess I have been here before, but it has become a favorite  haunt of mine.” Of course he already possessed such knowledge, yet it could not hurt to make mention of her preference again, would it?

He stretched his arm before him, gesturing further into the trees. “Then, I hope you do not mind my intrusion. I have no pressing business and would be pleased to join you. The blooms are particularly beautiful this year.”

Elizabeth forced a smile as she stepped onto the path. “The park is for all to enjoy, is it not?”

A bark of a laugh startled her. Mr. Darcy laughs?

“My aunt might disagree. She would insist the park is for herself, Anne, and any guests Rosings might entertain.” His walking stick thudded against the ground between footfalls. “Though, I imagine you shall have many opportunities to take in the park when you visit again.”

Visit again? Charlotte had not mentioned the possibility, but a future offer to visit would be welcome. Lady Catherine’s company proved tedious, yet they did not have dinner at Rosings every evening. She could survive a few dinners in that lady’s company.

“Should Charlotte extend the invitation, I see no reason why… “

“Have you taken great pleasure in your solitary walks around Hunsford?” interjected Mr. Darcy

Were they not just speaking of her journeying to Hunsford in the future? She brushed a curl back from her eyes. “Kent is lovely. I have taken great delight in several walks around the area.” This was one until his unfortunate appearance!

For a time he said naught, but continued to walk at her side until they stood by the side of the pond. He surveyed their surroundings before pointing to a path that followed the bank. “What do you think of Mr. and Mrs. Collins felicity in marriage?”

Her teeth gnawed at her lip. Did he not allude to this when he appeared at the parsonage over a week ago?

“I think Mr. Collins fortunate to be married to a woman of sense, and I believe Mrs. Collins pleased to have a home of her own. They find their own happiness in their situation.”

She watched a flock of pheasants peck at the grass along the edge of the water, a bird singing a merry tune in a tree, a fish as it broke the calm of the pond. Anywhere but at Mr. Darcy! Would that he did not speak again until he departed.

“If you made frequent journeys to Rosings, you might view the cherry blossoms every spring. Would you not take great pleasure in visiting places to which you have taken such a fancy?”

Mr. Darcy must have nothing better to do but pester innocent females as they took the air. She clasped her hands, gripping them together tightly, as his random inquiries raced through her head—additional visits to Hunsford, her solitary walks, Mr. and Mrs. Collins happiness in marriage, frequent journeys to Rosings. Was Mr. Darcy in his cups this early in the morning? This conversation was as maddening as it was confusing!

“Would you not like to be a guest of Rosings Park?”

She glanced in the direction of the pond. Why would Lady Catherine request a visit from her? “A guest of Rosings? I would not flatter myself.”

Could he be alluding to a connection between her and Colonel Fitzwilliam? No other reason could exist for her to be invited by Lady Catherine to stay at Rosings Park, yet she knew little of the colonel other than his amiable personality. She would not accept a man on such a slight acquaintance. She did not love him.

“You indicated you have enjoyed Kent?”

She wiped a few stray hairs from her forehead. “I find Kent to be a charming place, yet I know of no time when I will return to the area.”

He remained silent until their circuit of the pond was complete. “I am certain you would find Rosings more comfortable than the parsonage.”

Oh! Why had she not brought her parasol? One hit to his crown might knock some sense into him. Where did he get these absurd questions? He could not make ridiculous assumptions like these with a serious mind, could he?

“I would never suppose Lady Catherine to extend such an invitation. I am not family after all.”

Mr. Darcy stopped, his head gave a slight jerk, and he swapped his walking stick to the other hand. After a few steps, she peered in his direction. His brow was furrowed as he stared at the ground before him. She did not dare speak or ask what occupied his thoughts, however, lest he feel the need to respond. Their discourse today was a puzzle in itself. His mind was a place she had no desire to visit! He could keep his further ideas to himself!

The scenery around them became of great import, and Elizabeth again took in each and every view it afforded until they reached the parsonage gates where Mr. Darcy turned.

“Thank you for the pleasure of your company. I should take my leave of you. I have been away for too long and must return to Rosings.”

She pressed her lips together to prevent a smile. She could not be so rude as to appear joyful at the thought of his departure. “I am certain Charlotte shall be sorry you could not remain for tea.”

“Yes, well…please give Mrs. Collins my apologies.”

“Of course.”

He bowed. “Good day, Miss Bennet.”

She rose from her curtsy as he strode in the direction of Rosings. Thank goodness he was gone! Infuriating man!