To Conquer Pride

by Jennifer Altman

  Elizabeth studied him before addressing Georgiana over her shoulder. “Miss Darcy, perhaps you can assist your brother with that apron. He seems unsure of how to utilize it.”

  Snapping out of his shock, Darcy waved his sister aside before tugging off his coat and slipping the smock over his head. “That will not be necessary, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth offered a wry smile, reaching for his discarded coat and moving to hang it on a rack in the corner. Suddenly, Darcy remembered the pages of the book, secreted away in his pocket. What would she say if she found them? Would she realize where they had come from? But Elizabeth was already crossing back to where he stood, causing Darcy to release his breath. Tying the apron strings, his gaze darted to the back of the room. Besides Mrs. Reynolds, one of the kitchen maids lingered near the entrance to the pantry, her eyes wide.

  Darcy rubbed his neck, glancing uneasily around the kitchen.

  As if sensing his discomfort, Elizabeth looked up from her preparations, her gaze following his. “Oh, forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I hope you do not mind a small audience. Mrs. Reynolds wished to observe the process, and I am certain you know Sarah,” she added, nodding to the scullery maid. “She has volunteered to stand by in case we should require assistance.”

  Elizabeth grinned up at him then, causing Darcy’s heart rate to escalate. To calm himself, he turned his attention to the young maid, noticing that she immediately dropped her gaze. In truth, he was not certain he had ever been introduced to the girl—Pemberley had a large staff, and he generally did not come in contact with those who worked below-stairs. Seeing the maid’s obvious discomfort at being in the presence of the master, even if he was standing before her in an apron and shirtsleeves, Darcy smiled, attempting to put her at ease. “I thank you, Sarah, for allowing us to invade your workspace. I hope we do not prove to be too much trouble.”

  Darcy watched in amusement as the girl’s eyes formed round circles and a slight flush colored her cheeks. “Oh, no sir! ‘Tis no trouble!”

  “Good. I am pleased to hear it.” Allowing his smile to remain, he turned to face Elizabeth. “Very well, Miss Bennet. I await your expert tutelage. What would you have me do?”

  Elizabeth regarded him over the curve of her shoulder. “I suppose you might begin by sorting these berries,” she said, indicating the basket in front of him with a tilt of her chin. “Meanwhile, Miss Darcy and I will mix the ingredients for the crust.”

  Darcy looked from the basket to the bowl in front of him. “Er… sort them? Pardon my ignorance, Miss Bennet, but can we not just pour the desired amount into the crust?”

  Elizabeth cocked her head. “No, Mr. Darcy, we cannot.”

  Stepping over to where he stood, she reached across his body, her fingers brushing his wrist as she began picking through the basket of fruit. Her proximity made Darcy’s stomach tumble. Steadying his breathing, he forced himself to focus on what she was saying.

  “…and as you can see, some of these are not sufficiently ripe.” Elizabeth held up a pale blush-colored berry for his inspection. “Others have become slightly squashed in transport,” she continued, picking out another berry and showing it to him, before popping it into her mouth.

  Darcy felt a smile twitching at his lips. “And is it also my job to consume all of those damaged berries, Miss Bennet?”

  Elizabeth gazed back at him seriously. “You may do as you wish, Mr. Darcy. However, it is important to taste the fruit; otherwise you will not know how much sugar to use. Here,” she added, plucking a fat purple berry from the basket. For a moment Darcy stilled, thinking she intended to place it into his mouth, but instead she simply held it out to him. When he did not react immediately, she took his hand, turning it over before placing the berry lightly in his palm.

  Darcy swallowed, lifting the fruit.

  “Well?” Elizabeth asked as Darcy chewed.

  “It is… very good.”

  “Yes. But you will notice that it is also slightly tart, though it is fully ripe. That is due to the earliness of the season. In a month’s time, the fruit will be much sweeter. This is why you must taste and adjust the sugar accordingly.”

  “I see.”

  “Now, any of the berries that are not fit to use, you may put here, in this bowl. Oh, and you must not worry that they will go to waste. While I would not wish to make use of them in the pie, they are perfectly adequate for preserves or sauces.”

  Darcy lifted his gaze, staring at her intently. “I assure you, Miss Bennet, I was not worried.”

  Suddenly, Georgiana looked up from where she was slicing into a slab of butter, enthusiasm lighting her features. “William, perhaps if Mrs. West uses the leftovers to make preserves, we might put together baskets with fresh bread and bring them to the tenants. Do you not think that a fine idea?”

  “Certainly not,” Darcy answered, and Georgiana’s smile faltered. “Really, Georgie,” Darcy continued, “would you have me give the tenants jam made from inferior berries? No, it cannot be done. We will simply have to eat the preserves ourselves, no matter how horrible they are.”

  Georgiana’s mouth dropped open and she stared back at her brother, her eyes as wide as saucers. Out of the corner of his vision, Darcy could see Elizabeth biting back a laugh.

  “I believe your brother is teasing you, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said, gently squeezing the girl’s shoulder. “Now, enough of this gadding about. Let us concentrate on our work, or we will never have this ready before the servants return to begin the dinner service.”

  ***

  Dinner was a jovial affair, with Mrs. Gardiner sharing stories from her morning call and Elizabeth joining in on a discussion of the local sights with Mary and Georgiana. When dessert was finally presented in the form of a steaming blackberry pie complete with fresh whipped cream, Elizabeth grinned with obvious delight.

  “Mr. Darcy, this pie is delicious,” Mr. Gardiner stated a few moments later. “Quite the best I’ve had as a matter of fact. You must give my compliments to your cook.”

  Darcy’s gaze found Elizabeth, who laughed outright.

  “I believe you just have, Uncle,” she said brightly before Georgiana shared the story with the rest of the table.

  “Ah, so this was Mr. Darcy’s lesson, was it not?” Mrs. Gardiner replied.

  “Well done, Lizzy,” added Mr. Gardiner. “Although I hope you have not given your aunt any ideas.” At which Mrs. Gardiner swatted her husband playfully with her napkin.

  Darcy cleared his throat, feeling a telltale flush warming his neck. “I enjoyed myself immensely, as it happens,” he said, his eyes remaining fixed on Elizabeth’s. “But let us not forget, Miss Bennet that we still have your riding lesson to look forward to.”

  “I have not forgotten, sir,” she answered. “I have given my word. I assure you, I do not intend to back down.”

  Chapter 18

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Elizabeth stood before the looking glass in Georgiana’s chambers. Much to her dismay, the day had dawned sunny and clear, leaving no good excuse for her to postpone her riding lesson with Mr. Darcy.

  Frowning at her reflection, she turned to speak to Georgiana who was adjusting the train of Elizabeth’s habit. “Is this really necessary, Miss Darcy? Would not one of my own gowns do?”

  Georgiana gazed up at her and Elizabeth noticed that the young girl’s face appeared pale and drawn, but Georgiana’s mouth lifted in a determined smile. “No. You will need something looser in the skirt. Besides, you would not want to get one of your own gowns dirty. And I have more than enough to spare, though it is lucky that we are close to the same size.”

  Elizabeth nodded, plucking at the folds of her skirt. She could not imagine how such an excess of material would be beneficial, unless it was to pad her fall. She shuddered at the thought, turning away from the mirrored glass.

  “There,” said Georgiana, coming to her feet. “Now, we just need to get you a pair of boots.”

  “You needn’t trouble yourself, Miss Darcy. M
y walking boots will do well enough,” Elizabeth answered.

  “Oh, ’tis no trouble. And you must have proper boots for riding, walking shoes will not do at all. I will have one of the maids bring several pairs for you to try.” Georgiana moved in the direction of the bell-pull, but she had not taken more than three steps before she doubled over at the waist.

  Elizabeth hurried to her side. “Miss Darcy, are you unwell? Shall I send for your brother?”

  Georgiana gasped, but quickly shook her head. “No! I pray you do not. Forgive me, Miss Bennet, it is only a cramp. It will subside in a moment. And I would not wish to worry Fitzwilliam.”

  Elizabeth looked back at her uncertainly. If Miss Darcy was truly ill, her brother would not thank Elizabeth for keeping it to herself. Before she could speak, Georgiana straightened and a bit of her natural color returned to her cheeks. “Truly, I am well. Now, let me ring for those boots. We would not want to keep my brother waiting.”

  ***

  Elizabeth entered the stables and blinked, her eyes slowly adjusting to the low light. Taking a steadying breath, her lungs filled with the overpowering aroma of hay and horses and a shiver rippled down her spine. From somewhere nearby, one of the animals whinnied and Elizabeth instinctively stepped back. This was a mistake. I cannot go through with it. Lifting her skirts, she spun in the direction of the door.

  “Miss Bennet. Welcome.”

  The deep voice that came from somewhere behind her made Elizabeth freeze. Slowly, she turned around, just in time to see Mr. Darcy step from the shadows. Despite her anxiety, Elizabeth noticed that he was impeccably attired in buff-colored breeches, high boots, and a fitted jacket. Swallowing past the tightness in her throat, Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, but before she could form the words, he had come up beside her.

  Regarding Elizabeth with a steady gaze, Darcy lightly cupped her elbow, steering her towards the door. “Come. The horses are already outside.”

  Elizabeth nodded, allowing Mr. Darcy to draw her into the hazy sunshine. Once they had stepped clear of the stables, her breath came easier and her gaze shifted to the nearby paddock—which was noticeably empty. Feeling slightly more tranquil now that she was out in the open air, Elizabeth turned to her companion. “Exactly where are these mythical horses, Mr. Darcy? I do not see then anywhere in the vicinity.”

  To her surprise, the question made him visibly uncomfortable and he stiffened slightly before fixing his eyes on a small copse of trees in the near distance.

  “I had a groom take them on ahead. We will have our lesson in one of the adjacent pastures and I thought you might prefer to walk there rather than ride. I hope that meets with your approval?”

  Elizabeth felt her heart quicken at the intensity in his expression. “I… yes. Thank you. I would prefer to walk for a while.”

  Darcy nodded, extending his arm and Elizabeth slipped her hand into the bend of his elbow.

  They continued in silence for a while before Mr. Darcy spoke. “Miss Bennet, I wondered if you might enlighten me as to your previous riding experience. I think it would help me to better know how to proceed with our lesson.”

  Elizabeth turned away, her upper lip catching between her teeth.

  “Come now, it can’t have been that bad. Tell me, how old were you when you had your first instruction?”

  “I was seven, sir.”

  Darcy nodded, thoughtfully. “Georgiana was only a bit younger when I began tutoring her. And… were you afraid?” he asked. “Horses can often sense fear and it can make things more difficult for some.”

  Elizabeth shifted to look at him. “Oh, no! It was Jane who was anxious, though she is more than a year older. So, you see, it is quite ironic that she took to it so easily while I… did not.”

  “Will you tell me what happened?” Darcy asked gently. “The day you fell?”

  Elizabeth sighed, but nodded. “From as far back as I can remember, it was my fondest wish to learn to ride and to have a horse of my own. I am afraid I pestered my poor father mercilessly until he finally relented, purchasing a lovely pony and engaging an instructor to teach both Jane and me how to ride her. Every day, I would wait in the stables and watch as our grooms saddled the pony, and then the instructor would arrive and Jane and I would take turns riding around our back pasture. Of course, Jane, being a most obedient child, was perfectly content with this arrangement. But every day I would beg to be allowed to leave the enclosure. At night, I dreamt of galloping across gently rolling hills, the sunlight on my cheeks and the wind in my hair… So you see walking around our fenced paddock was not exactly to my liking.” Elizabeth paused and a smile played across Darcy’s countenance.

  “In any case, things continued in this manner for about a fortnight when one morning I decided I could not plod around that pasture one more time. I woke early and slipped into the stables. By this time, I knew how to saddle Jade—that was the horse’s name—and I quickly mounted her and set out. At first, I kept the pony to a walk. But when I reached the open fields, I kicked her as hard as I could, slapping her neck with the reins for good measure. Before I knew it, we were racing across our fields, just as I had in my dreams… But it wasn’t long before I lost control. The pony was going faster and faster. I pulled back on the reins to slow her down but I lost my balance and fell—hard.” Elizabeth shuddered at the memory and Darcy’s grip strengthened on her arm.

  “That must have been frightening.”

  Elizabeth lifted her shoulders before letting them drop. “Actually, I believe I was in a state of shock. My arm hurt, badly. I couldn’t move it at all. But I went and fetched the pony—she hadn’t gone far—and walked back home. Of course, when my parents found out, Mamma took to her bed in a fit of hysterics and Papa forbade me from going anywhere near the stables again.” When Darcy looked at her in confusion, Elizabeth hurried to clarify, “Oh, he did not forbid me to ride, he only wanted to ensure that I was not so reckless as to take the pony out alone. Everyone assumed that once my arm healed, I would go back to my lessons, but I never did. The pony became Jane’s after that, and I decided to stick to using my own two feet to get where I was going.”

  Elizabeth had just finished her tale when the pair came around a bend in the road, exposing a large pasture where two horses, one gray and one chestnut-brown, were grazing in the tall grass. Elizabeth stopped walking.

  Darcy looked down at her, his gaze tender, and Elizabeth felt herself momentarily calm.

  “Thank you for telling me that story, Miss Bennet. I hope you know that I would never allow any harm to come to you. However, if you have changed your mind, I would understand. You need not do anything against your wishes.”

  Elizabeth stared into his dark eyes. “I know,” she answered.

  As they stood looking at one another, a young groom rose from where he had been sitting in the grass and began walking in their direction.

  Removing his cap, the boy nodded to Mr. Darcy before turning to stare at Elizabeth, his eyes round.

  Darcy cleared his throat, garnering the boy’s attention. “I trust the horses are prepared as I instructed?”

  Again, the groom nodded, and Darcy continued, “Good. You may go now, James. We will return them to the stables later this afternoon.”

  The boy darted a curious glance at Elizabeth before doffing his cap and hurrying off.

  Darcy stepped over to their mounts, collecting the reins and leading them to the edge of the pasture.

  Elizabeth watched as he approached, tilting her head slightly to one side. “Mr. Darcy, neither of these horses seem to be fitted with a side saddle.”

  Darcy instantly colored, his gaze slipping away. “No.”

  “So… you expect me to ride… astride? This is your mysterious teaching method?”

  The chestnut gelding whickered, tossing his head, and Darcy fingered the reins. “I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I should have asked you if you would be willing to undertake such an endeavor before we set out. If you are truly opposed,
we can return to the stables for a different saddle, of course.”

  Elizabeth carefully stretched out her hand, her fingers coming to rest on the smooth muzzle of the dapple-gray. “Is this one to be mine?” she asked.

  Darcy nodded. “Yes. This is Calypso. My father purchased her for Georgiana’s tenth birthday. She is one of the gentlest animals I have ever come across. You will be quite safe in her charge.”

  Elizabeth did not answer, but she continued to stroke the mare’s velvety nose.

  “And that one is yours?” she finally asked, lifting her chin in the direction of the other horse.

  “One of mine, yes. This is Poseidon.”

  Elizabeth turned to pat the chestnut gelding but after a few seconds Calypso stepped forward, pushing her nose under Elizabeth’s arm.

  Darcy grinned. “She is jealous.” Pulling a carrot stub from the pocket of his jacket, he placed it into Elizabeth’s palm. “Here. These are her favorite.”

  Elizabeth cautiously extended her hand, laughing when the horse’s lips tickled her fingers.

  Darcy rubbed the mare’s neck. “I think you have made a friend, Miss Bennet. And I can assure you, once Calypso has formed an attachment, she is exceedingly loyal.”

  Elizabeth angled her head, gazing into Mr. Darcy’s eyes. They stared at one another for several seconds before Elizabeth looked away. “Very well, Mr. Darcy.”

  The gentleman’s brow lifted in obvious surprise. “Then… You are willing to ride… in this manner? It will not make you uncomfortable?”

  Elizabeth’s mouth turned up at the corners. “On the contrary. I have always thought riding astride would be a good deal easier. Safer, too.” Soft laughter bubbled in her throat as she turned back to her companion. “Though now I understand why your groom was looking at me with such curiosity.”

  “I will admit that is why I thought it best to have our lesson here, away from the stables.”