Page 174 of What Change Entails

“Mr. Darcy,” she said, “you are very silent.”

“I am attending.”

“To the scenery?”

“To the company.”

She inclined her head slightly. “That is a dangerous answer when spoken by a gentleman walking beside a lady.”

“I live dangerously now.”

Elizabeth’s eyes danced. “You? I am astonished. Shall you next neglect correspondence or take a second cup of coffee?”

“I may go so far as to ignore a letter until after luncheon.”

“Scandal.”

“I rely upon your discretion.”

She laughed softly, then caught herself when Miss Bingley’s voice carried from behind them.

“How very beautiful Pemberley appears from this side,” Miss Bingley said. “One never tires of a prospect so connected to consequence.”

Elizabeth’s shoulder trembled beside him.

Mrs. Gardiner, who had walked ahead with her husband, asked whether the path grew steeper. Darcy answered, and in doing so offered his arm to Elizabeth before the rise. She accepted without hesitation.

Miss Bingley did not miss it.

Indeed, no one did. Certainly not Elizabeth’s aunt. Darcy respected Mrs. Gardiner too much to imagine she missed anything.

They climbed by a gradual path through beech and ash, pausing where the lane opened toward the first view. Bingley exclaimed with genuine pleasure. Mr. Gardiner unfolded his sketchbook. Mrs. Gardiner admired the line of the water below. Darcy watched Elizabeth step toward the edge, her hand still resting lightly upon his arm, and experienced the fierce, ridiculous satisfaction of showing her his home again now that she saw him within it differently.

“This was your hidden view?” she asked.

“One of several.”

“You hoard views, then.”

“Among my lesser vices.”

“I shall require a list of the greater.”

“You already know some of them.”

The amusement in her face softened into a more serious regard. “Some have improved.”

“I am working upon the remainder.”

She did not answer in words. Her fingers pressed lightly upon his sleeve and released.

For a moment the hill, the party, Miss Bingley, and every obstacle between them receded.

Then Lydia’s voice rang from below, nowhere near the path they had taken.

“Horace! Leave that sheep alone! It has done nothing to you.”

Georgiana called something after her, breathless and horrified.