A Ride with Mr. Darcy Read online

  A Ride with Mr. Darcy

  A Pride and Prejudice Variation

  Anne-Marie Grace

  A Ride with Mr. Darcy

  Copyright © 2018 by Anne-Marie Grace

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  All rights reserved.

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  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Anne-Marie Grace

  Chapter 1

  Elizabeth

  The sun that beat down upon Elizabeth was her favourite kind. Warm enough to cause her skin to glow pleasantly, but with just enough chill in the air to assure one would not overheat. Elizabeth had been in the Peak District for only a few days, but it was long enough for her to discover that the country produced perfect sunshine with delightful ease.

  Elizabeth walked slowly along the path winding through the beautifully kept gardens of Pemberley House. Her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner walked a few paces ahead of her, their heads close together as they talked. Every so often, she heard one or the other of them—at times both—burst into a joyful gale of laughter. Each time, Elizabeth found herself smiling broadly. It was nice to be in the presence of such affection.

  However, each peal of amusement also caused a slight twinge in her heart. It was startling to her to realise that, for the first time in her life, she desired such company and companionship. Elizabeth had always known she could not simply marry for the sake of marriage, but her aunt and uncle provided the perfect example of what was possible for two people. They complimented each other wonderfully and Elizabeth wanted the same.

  Elizabeth felt a wry smile cross her lips: her convictions had been tested far more often than she might have imagined in her youth. For she had cause to turn down not just one, but two proposals that did not meet her standards. How surprised everyone would be should they learn of the second offer, she thought to herself. The ridiculous proposal from the ridiculous Mr. Collins was well-known. But the second… That was her knowledge alone.

  Thinking of the second proposal, she felt a chill run down her back, despite the shining sun. Surreptitiously, she gazed at her surroundings, almost as if to reassure herself that she and the Gardiners were alone in their walking tour of the grounds. Her eyes saw nothing but the beautifully apportioned garden: tall rows of hedges, rose bushes, green grass, and flowers in a hundred different colours, all interspaced with marble statues and fountains. It was a truly remarkable place.

  But even as her senses were assailed by the loveliness of the garden, she felt a sudden rise of regret and panic. She never should have allowed the Gardiners to convince her to come here. For this was not simply an awe-inspiring country house with a rich country gentleman hidden within. No, this was the home of the man who would have her for his wife.

  “Mr. Darcy,” she breathed aloud, trailing a hand through a patch of wisteria making its way over a stone wall.

  There, she thought, she’s said his name and nothing terrible had happened. The thought, however, had done nothing to lessen the knot that had immediately formed in her stomach. Annoyance flooded her, why did something as simple as saying the man’s name have such a physical effect? He meant nothing to her, she told herself once more.

  And yet, when the Gardiners had suggested visiting Pemberley, she had immediately rejected the idea. Not precisely the reaction someone would have if the master of the house truly meant nothing. She had begged off the plan: she had no wish to disturb the occupants of the house, after all.

  But her uncle had provided a convincing argument: “Gentlemen who live in houses such as these are never home,” he had laughed. “No, they are far too busy with their pursuits and acquaintances.”

  And when the housekeeper had confirmed that the gentleman was indeed away, Elizabeth had no other reason to refuse.

  “Lizzy,” her aunt’s voice called her attention back to the present. Elizabeth looked up and saw that her aunt and uncle had taken a seat on a bench and she had almost walked right past them.

  “Aunt Gardiner,” she said with a blush and a smile. “I do apologise, I fear that I am lost in my own thoughts.”

  “That is quite evident, my dear,” her uncle replied with a laugh. He had his hat in his hand, fanning his somewhat red face.

  “We thought to sit here for a while and enjoy the view of the pond,” Aunt Gardiner said, indicating the water behind Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth turned and saw a small pond ringed by small water plants, with lily pads spotting the surface. As she watched, she saw a large frog hop into the murky waters. It seemed a peaceful place. But Elizabeth hesitated in her response.

  “No, no, my dear,” her uncle said, observing her face. “I do believe that Lizzy has far too much thinking to do. Perhaps if we leave her to it, she will tell us what has occupied her so.”

  Elizabeth felt her face turn red once more. She had not realised that the Gardiners had noticed her withdrawn behaviour.

  “I apologise,” she said. “I have been quite within myself today.”

  “It is quite alright,” Mrs. Gardiner said with a smile. “This is as much an opportunity to get away from the everyday of life for you as it is for us. Keep walking with your thoughts, Lizzy. Somehow, we will manage without you.”

  “Thank you, aunt,” Elizabeth said, smiling at her aunt’s small jest and feeling grateful that she was not the one to suggest separating.

  “It is still quite early,” Mr. Gardiner observed, glancing to the sky. “Would you object to spending the afternoon here?”

  “Not at all,” Elizabeth replied. For all the worry their visit was causing her, she could not deny that she was enjoying herself.

  “Very good,” Mr. Gardiner said. “We shall find you in due course.” He waved his hand, giving Elizabeth permission to continue with her walk. She granted her aunt and uncle one more smile before turning and continuing upon her way.

  Coming to a fork in the path, Elizabeth saw that she could either turn left and continue through the garden or go right towards places unknown. The housekeeper had advised them to stay within the garden, but she had not said the rest of the grounds were restricted.

  Elizabeth enjoyed the well-kept and polished nature of the garden, but she wanted to see what else the grounds had to offer.

  Turning to the right, she tested a wrought iron gate and found it unlocked. Taking it as an invitation, she walked through, resisting the temptation to check behind her to see if anyone watched. Through the gate, she found the ground sloped towards a long, low building. She could see men in the distance, with horses trotting around them in wide circles.

  That must be the stables, she determined. Even from the distance at
which she stood, she could see the animals in the yard were beautiful. She could see their shiny coats and streaming manes, and could picture their strong, graceful legs.

  Elizabeth started the long walk down the hill to get a better look. She was so eager to get a look at the majestic animals, she completely forgot her intent to stay as invisible as possible on the property. She would find an excuse if anyone asked about her presence, she was sure of it.

  Elizabeth loved horses. Her family was not wealthy enough to afford more than one saddle horse, but she took great pleasure in riding the gentle old mare. The Bennet’s brown horse, affectionately referred to as Daisy, was a kind and friendly mount, but she had none of the fire that Elizabeth could see in the horses of Pemberley.

  As she walked closer, the floral fragrance of the gardens was replaced by the sharp aromas of the stables. The most prominent smell was hay, with the scent of manure only just detectable. It was a compliment to the care Mr. Darcy must insist upon for his horses. Not that Mr. Darcy would have any idea what sort of effort was required for the upkeep of stables, Elizabeth thought to herself. She conveniently ignored the fact that she too was ignorant of the work involved.

  Coming to the shadowy door of the stable, she cautiously peered in. Her eyes met with a long row of stalls, most containing a horse of a different colour or variety. The empty stalls bore unmistakable signs of habitation and Elizabeth guessed that these were the animals she had seen from the top of the hill.

  As she examined the inside, a tall, golden horse with a white mane caught her eye. The horse stared back at her, and Elizabeth was surprised to find the horse held onto her gaze without blinking. The strange behaviour of the beast drew Elizabeth into the stable, and she completely forgot her previous concerns. This animal was far too beautiful and far too interesting to worry about being caught where she was not welcome.

  “Hello there,” she said quietly, approaching the horse carefully.

  She was not so foolish as to rush at such a creature. She held her hand out, and slowly the horse lowered its head to smell it. With a snort, the horse shook out its mane and nuzzled its snout into her hand. She laughed and began to pet the animal.

  “Friendly, are you not?” She asked with a laugh.

  Suddenly, she heard a crash behind her and she whirled around to see what had made the noise.

  A man stood in the stall opposite her, and she took in his muck-covered boots and breeches. Her eyes travelled upwards and she saw that the man’s rough-spun linen shirt was soaked with sweat and untied to reveal his muscled chest. Her eyes continued upwards and she felt her heart stop, for she realised that she knew this man’s face.

  He had a strong jaw and stubborn chin with a slight cleft. His nose was strong and pointed, and his brown eyes were wide with surprise. Brown hair was slicked back with sweat, but she knew that curls would fall over his forehead and ears after his toils ended. Yes, she knew this man very well.

  For it was Mr. Darcy.

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something, but found her throat had gone quite dry. Surprise was quickly turning into panic. “Mr. Da…” She began, but she realised her words came out as a croak. She swallowed hard and tried again. “Mr. Darcy!”

  “Miss… Bennet…” He said slowly.

  It took Elizabeth several moments to notice, so great was her own astonishment at finding him here, that he looked quite as thunderstruck as she. He bowed quickly, and she returned his bow with as much alacrity.

  “They…” she began once more. “At the house. They said that the family was not in residence, else I never should have come…” She cast her eyes about the stable, humiliation rising. She felt very much as if she had been caught in something untoward. “And they said we may wander about freely. I apologise, I have presumed too much…”

  She bent her head low, too embarrassed to continue. She wondered wildly if she should leave before he could say anything else.

  “No,” Mr. Darcy said quickly, before she could move her feet. “Yes, the housekeeper often gives tours.” He held a pitchfork in one hand and was wiping the other on his filthy breeches.

  “My aunt and uncle had a great desire to see the house,” Elizabeth said, desperately trying to explain. “And they said you were not here.”

  “I have only just arrived moments ago,” he said, leaning the tool against the wall. “I do not think my housekeeper is yet aware, for I was not supposed to be home until tomorrow.”

  He kept his eyes downcast, and Elizabeth worried that she had deeply offended him. Neither of them spoke for several long seconds.

  “Your parents,” he said finally. “I trust they are well?”

  “Indeed, they are, sir,” Elizabeth replied gratefully. Such niceties were a welcome relief from the awkward situation in which she found herself.

  “And you are long in this part of the country?” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “No, not long,” she replied, matching his off-handed tone. “We are here but a few days.” She shot an envious look at the door, wishing she could disappear through it.

  “And you are staying in Lambton?” He still would not look her in the eye. Dread and embarrassment threatened to overwhelm her.

  “Yes, at the inn,” she said without further elaboration. More long seconds passed.

  “Of course… And your parents, they are well?” He asked again. “And your sisters?”

  Elizabeth noted the circular nature of the conversation. She could not think of another situation in which she had borne such a degree of awkwardness. And yet, she did not know what she could do. She knotted her hands behind her back and thought desperately about how to remedy the situation: if, indeed, a remedy could be found.

  Chapter 2

  Darcy

  Brilliant. Just brilliant, Darcy thought as he heard himself ask after Elizabeth’s family for a second time. He felt a mounting idiocy and knew not how to stop it. His head felt full of wool and his tongue completely in knots. What was she doing here?

  She had not answered his second question yet, he noted miserably. Instead, she stood with her hands behind her back, eyes darting nervously between himself and the door. Her cheeks were flushed pink and he could sense her discomfort. Tiberius, the horse she had been petting when he had first noticed her presence, seemed to sense her discomfort as well and gave a loud whinny. Elizabeth jumped slightly, but it seemed to push her into words once more.

  “Yes,” she said once more. “My family is in excellent health, thank you for asking.”

  Darcy nodded dumbly. He opened his mouth to say something else, but realised that his mind was blank of both questions or statements, and he closed his mouth without another word. He could not recall when he last felt so stupid. Perhaps when he was seven and his tutor quizzed him on geometry. He could not abide geometry and his inability to answer the tutors’ questions proved that. He had felt quite bad then, but was beginning to think this was worse.

  “I am so sorry,” Elizabeth whispered, her face gaining even more colour. “They said it was alright.”

  Darcy could not think of anything to say that did not further add to his appearance of stupidity, so he said nothing at all. Elizabeth continued to look nervously towards the door. Finally, she spoke again.

  “I bid you good day, sir.” She bobbed a curtsy and turned hurriedly toward the door.

  Her sudden movement seemed to pull Darcy from his stupor—he very much did not want this conversation to be her sole impression of him. Or this appearance, he thought, glancing down at his muck-caked clothing. He shook his head as if to clear away cobwebs and hurried after her.

  “Miss Bennet!”

  She stopped, but did not turn around to face him. Instead, he walked around in front of her, so he could see her face once more. Darcy could see that she was breathing quickly and he doubted it was from exertion.

  “Miss Bennet, they told you true. You are most welcome here.” He smiled in a manner he hoped was reassuring. Howeve
r, he was not sure Elizabeth saw it because her eyes were still resolutely fastened upon her feet.

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly, finally looking up into his eyes once more. He noted that her breathing had slowed and she was quickly regaining her usual confident bearing. Her face was returning to its usual, slightly sun-kissed colour and he felt his heart leap.

  In the weeks since her refusal of his proposal, there had been few hours unfilled by either anger or melancholy. In fact, Darcy had made his way to the stables that day because he felt he might be overwhelmed by a sudden wave of anger. Hard, physical labour had proved to be a useful tool. Darcy would have thought that an unexpected meeting with the source of his unhappiness would serve to fuel his foul temper. However, he was surprised to find that he was glad to see Elizabeth.

  “Would you care to meet the horse?” He asked. A plan was forming in his mind, and he decided to implement it before he had thought through its entirety.

  Elizabeth had believed she knew the kind of man Darcy was; Darcy knew she knew nothing of him or his life. Perhaps this was fate’s way presenting an opportunity to correct her disastrous misconceptions.

  “May I?” She asked, her face lighting up.

  Darcy could immediately discern that Elizabeth was fond of horses and it squeezed his heart. They had never conversed on the topic. To learn of this shared interest now was a painful surprise. He gave her another small smile and motioned for her to walk back towards the stall.