Page 14 of A Different Impression

They continued to hold hands as they approached Erebus, and Darcy introduced his horse to her with a level of seriousness that caused her to laugh.

The laugh seemed to ease some of her nervousness. She greeted his horse with a level of equanimity and, following his lead, curtsied to the horse in greeting before reaching out towards his nose, allowing him to smell her, before moving her hand to caress his neck. “Good morning, Erebus,” she cooed. “You are terribly big, but I do hope that we can be friends. I have never been friends with a horse before.”

Erebus nuzzled Elizabeth’s hand, and she laughed. She turned to look at Darcy, smiling broadly. “He is a lovely animal. I assume his name is because of how completely black he is?”

Darcy smiled back, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of Elizabeth with his horse. “Yes, I have never seen a horse as black as he, and my father thought Erebus an appropriate name.”

“Your father named him?” she asked.

“He purchased him as a gift when I reached my majority and informed me of his name on that day. This was the last gift he gave me before he died,” he said, his eyes sad as he remembered the day his father had presented him with Erebus. “He had told me that day I would begin intensive training to be the master when I graduated from Cambridge. Although he intended for me to begin to take over for him that summer, he died before my training could begin. I had learnt a great deal from him already, but it has taken several years for me to feel confident in my role. I never expected to inherit so soon…” He trailed off, lost in his thoughts.

She removed her hand from his horse and placed it on his arm. The light touch of her hand, even through his clothing, sent warmth through him. “I am very sorry for your loss, Mr Darcy,” she whispered.

He placed his free hand on top of hers and looked down at her. Their eyes caught, and they stood staring at each other for several moments. For one reckless moment he wanted to ask the question outright. They had known one another only a few days. It was madness. Yet every instinct urged him to ignore propriety and speak.

“Eliz… Miss Elizabeth, would you, that is, I realise that we have only just met, but I would very much like to court you. But… if you feel it is too soon…” Once again, he trailed off, uncertain how to continue. He closed his eyes and shook his head, although he did not remove his hand from hers.

“Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth asked. “Are you well?”

He released a quiet breath. “I do not mean to rush you, Miss Elizabeth, but I would like the opportunity to get to know you better. We have only met and spoken three times over as many days, and I hope we can continue our acquaintance and perhaps deepen it into something more.”

Elizabeth considered him cautiously for a moment. “I will enjoy getting to know you better as well, Mr Darcy, and I… I am… pleased to know the direction of your thoughts. Perhaps for now, it is best that you pay a formal call or two on me at home before we enter into a courtship. You have not yet been exposed to my family, and you may change your mind when you get to know them better.”

“So, you would like me to renew my request in a few days?” he asked.

She laughed softly. “Perhaps we ought to allow a full se’nnight to pass before you speak to my father. It might be prudent to meet him at least once before requesting permission to court his daughter.”

Darcy groaned. “I had forgotten that bit,” he complained, laughing at himself. “Will I meet him today when I visit Bingley?”

“Perhaps, although it is more likely he will remain in his book room,” she told him. “I will encourage him to greet you both. He was rather angry with Lydia yesterday because of something she said and has presently banished her to the schoolroom. Since both she and Mama are protesting this, I do wonder how long it will last.” She paused and scowled. “I love my family; they are my family, and I know I would miss them if they were gone, but they are… difficult. Mama is loud and silly; my two youngest sisters are loud and silly and far too flirtatious. Jane and I do what we can, but I admit I am terrified for you to meet them. If you cannot tolerate them, it is best you do not begin to call. I will not hold you to your request for courtship.”

The confession touched him more deeply than she could know. She trusted him enough to reveal what embarrassed her most.

He raised her hand to his lips. The gesture was made before he had entirely decided upon it. When colour flooded her cheeks, he found himself thinking that he should very much like the privilege of kissing that hand again.

“I shall tolerate them, and I shall remember what you have told me. Perhaps your youngest sister’s banishment to the schoolroom will endure long enough to have some effect,” he added hopefully.

Elizabeth’s smile faded into a sigh. “One can hope. I fear Mama may overrule him—or that he will simply become weary of enforcing the punishment. Still, he was sufficiently angered by the remark that it may spur him to remain firm.”

“Perhaps I could offer a hint to your mother about all her daughters being out. While my Aunt Catherine is a busybody, I have heard her advise her friends that having too many daughters out at once confuses us poor simple males and makes it too hard for us to make a decision,” he teased.

She laughed. “Please ensure I am listening when you have that conversation with her,” Elizabeth replied. “I would love to see how she responds to that. If you can attribute it to some titled lady, that would make it even better.”

He grinned broadly. “She is the daughter of an earl who married a baronet. She retains the courtesy title and is Lady Catherine.”

Elizabeth nearly choked with mirth at that addition. He had not realised how much he enjoyed making her laugh, but he was delighted to hear her freedom in doing so. “Please be sure to include that piece of information. I cannot wait to see how she will react.” She looked at the sky. “It is getting late,” she began.

“Yes, and I will not offer to walk you because I know you will decline,” he replied. “But I will see you at your house with Bingley this afternoon, and I will meet your father. Does he play chess?”

She grinned. “He does, and since he can no longer be assured he will defeat me, he would likely welcome a challenge from a different quarter.”

“You play chess?” he enquired with a raised brow.

“Papa taught me when I was, oh, I think seven or eight,” she responded, smiling broadly. “I beat him for the first time when I was fifteen, and then by seventeen, I was beating him nearly every time. My Uncle Gardiner also plays with me occasionally, and we are evenly matched. A friend of his, a James Fitzwilliam, came in one day as we played and was astounded when I won. He challenged me to a match and won, but we have played once or twice since, and I believe we are tied now.”

“You played chess against Lord Fitzwilliam and won?” he asked, amazement creeping into his voice. Suddenly Richard’s repeated references to “a terrifyingly intelligent young lady in Gracechurch Street” made perfect sense.

“Yes,” she said uncertainly, unsure how to take his comment. “Do you know him?”