Page 61 of Roses from Pemberley
She looked around, trying to think of something else to say or do, when he continued, “I have brought the phaeton again. Would you care to go for a drive?”
Elizabeth could just picture it - driving rapidly along the lanes of Rosings with him - gloriously alone - stopping once in a while to be kissed, then driving on once more. Seeing the wildflowers by the side of the road and inhaling the scent of springtime. Everything was so beautiful today, the colours so vivid. She knew it was so becauseshewas happy.
“Yes, I would,” she answered. “I would like nothing better.”
She went up stairs to get her pelisse then found her mother in the room which she now shared with Jane. Mrs. Bennet was lying in bed reading a novel.
“Mamma, I thought you had some things to do.”
“Oh, well,” said Mrs. Bennet, not in the least abashed. “I did them, then thought to have a lie down. Mr. Darcy has not left already, has he?”
“No, Mamma, he is waiting downstairs for me. We are going for a drive in the phaeton.”
“Oh, how wonderful, Lizzy. How wonderful.”
She came to sit beside her mother and kissed her on the cheek. “He is courting me, Mamma.”
Mrs. Bennet sighed happily and put her hand against Elizabeth’s cheek. “I told you, Lizzy. I knew it from the moment I saw the two of you in the garden.”
“Yes, Mamma. You were right.”
“Well then, get along with you, Lizzy. And when you return perhaps you will be engaged.”
She smiled at her mother, blew her a kiss then left the room.
It was much warmer now than it had been earlier, and Elizabeth enjoyed the feel of the wind blowing against her face as she sped through the countryside with Darcy. He drove for some miles till they reached a lane which wound up a hill, then stopped when they reached a folly at the top of it. He helped her to descend, and they sat together at the stone steps. He put his arm around her and she leaned her head against his chest, turning her face towards the sun.
“‘Tis a lovely view,” she murmured.
“Sir Lewis de Bourgh had it built for Lady Catherine.”
They stayed in that attitude for some time, each enjoying the silence.
“Did you tell anyone about our courtship?” she asked at length.
“Yes, I did. I hope you do not mind?”
“No, why should I?” she answered. “But who did you tell?”
“Just about everyone. Lady Catherine, Anne, Richard, Bingley, Mrs. Jenkinson…”
“Diana?”
“Of course. She was very happy for us.”
“And Lady Matlock?” asked Elizabeth. “Was she very disappointed to know that you would not be marrying her daughter?”
“Perhaps, but…after Diana told her that she thought of me as a brother, my aunt seemed resigned to it.”
Another silence ensued.
“Thank you for believing in me,” he said some time later.
“I’m sorry I didn’t before.”
“But perhaps you will allow me now, to tell you of my history with Wickham?”
“Of course, as long as you know it isn’t necessary.”
