Page 8 of Before She Knew Him

Fitzwilliam glanced at his sister. Her bright eyes and eager expression left little doubt that she anticipated Miss Bennet’s arrival nearly as much as he did. Their father appeared equally pleased by her enthusiasm, though he wisely refrained from remarking upon it.

The three discussed their plans for the day, but none suggested sitting. Instead, they remained near the window, each positioned so that the approach of a carriage along the drive could not possibly escape notice.

Grateful that his father’s attention had shifted elsewhere, Fitzwilliam allowed himself to be drawn into the conversation. Before long, the sound of wheels reached them, and he turned towards the window at once. Georgiana did the same, her eagerness sparing him from being the only one to betray himself so readily.

His father, however, was watching him again, the same knowing smile playing about his lips. Fitzwilliam felt the tips of his ears grow warm.

Mercifully, his father made no comment. Instead, he led them towards the entrance hall to receive their guests. Such a welcome was perhaps a greater distinction than so brief an acquaintance warranted, but Fitzwilliam could hardly object when he was already following close upon his father’s heels.

“Good morning,” his father said as their guests entered the hall.

Mrs Gardiner returned the greeting, with her husband and niece just behind her. Fitzwilliam’s gaze found Miss Bennet almost at once, and the warmth of her smile rendered the past hour’s impatience entirely worthwhile, though he still felt a little foolish for having awaited her arrival with such restless anticipation.

Once greetings had been exchanged, the party withdrew to the sitting room while the servants completed the final preparations for the picnic.

Georgiana immediately claimed a place beside Miss Bennet, and Fitzwilliam soon found himself joining their conversation. It had already begun to feel like an established habit, though their acquaintance could still be measured in days.

When there was a lull in the conversation between his sister and Miss Bennet, Fitzwilliam enquired, “Did you have a chance last evening to begin readingCorinne?”

Miss Bennet turned towards him with a smile on her face. “I did.”

“And?”

“I admire her exceedingly,” Miss Bennet said, “although I suspect that knowing her personally would be exhausting.”

Fitzwilliam raised his brows. “And how far have you read?”

“Three chapters.”

He laughed. “Then you have formed your opinion remarkably quickly. I suspect the later chapters may cure you of at least half of it, although I shall not tell you which half.”

“Is that so?”

“Corinne is not the only character capable of being admirable and exasperating by turns.”

Her eyes brightened in evident amusement. “Then I must read further. It would be intolerable for us to agree so soon.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Mrs Reynolds, who announced that everything was prepared for the picnic. The servants had already departed with the hampers, linens and other necessities, and would have everything arranged before the party reached the western ridge.

Outside, two carriages awaited them. An open landau had been brought round for the elder Mr Darcy and the Gardiners, while a light sociable phaeton stood behind it. Fitzwilliam had selected the latter himself, knowing that the additional seat would accommodate Georgiana and Mrs Livesay while still allowing him to drive and sit on the same bench with Miss Bennet.

His father appeared to comprehend the arrangement at once. The look he directed towards his son was far too knowing for Fitzwilliam’s comfort, but he merely offered his arm to Mrs Gardiner and escorted her towards the landau with Mr Gardiner trailing behind.

Georgiana and Mrs Livesay settled upon the rear seat of the phaeton with the help of a footman. Looking around him at the arrangements, Fitzwilliam turned to Miss Bennet and offered his hand.

“Will you permit me to drive you?”

Her eyes moved briefly from him to the carriage, and the smile that appeared suggested she understood precisely what he had contrived. She took his hand without a word and allowed him to help her into the conveyance.

Behind them, Georgiana and Mrs Livesay spoke quietly. For several moments, Fitzwilliam struggled to settle upon a topic of conversation, but Miss Bennet spared him the necessity.

“We are travelling away from Lambton, are we not?” she asked. “I do not recall seeing this prospect on our way to Pemberley.”

“You are correct. Lambton lies to the south-east, while we are travelling towards the western boundary of the estate.” He indicated the distant ridge slightly north of their course. “On a clear day such as this, one can just distinguish Mam Tor beyond those nearer hills.”

Miss Bennet followed the direction of his hand. “Which is Mam Tor?”

“The highest rise towards the west—the one with the uneven slope. Mam Tor is known for the landslips upon its eastern face. The ground there is said never to be entirely still.”