climbing, and she quickly reached the top of the ridge on this side of the river. There were trees all about her, and the path still continued, but down of course. Elizabeth couldn't help but follow it, though it was still going away from the house.
After another ten-minute walk through the woods the trees started to thin out a lot, until the path left the forest and a large grassland spread out before Elizabeth. It was beautiful, even going on winter, in summer it had to be stunning. But her rambling had taken a lot of time and the sun was close to setting, it was time to go home, and quickly, for she had been away for hours and Fitzwilliam would be worried. Turning back, she had at least half-an-hour's walk ahead of her before she would reach the river, but she was still elated having this huge park to explore, and she was not afraid of getting caught in the dark, she already knew the way home quite well, and the path was smooth enough to be safe even at night. Back in the forest it was darker already, even though the trees were mostly bared of leaves.
Over the hill, down the slope to the river she walked. Soon it got positively murky, the trees being taller and thicker here, but Elizabeth was not afraid at all, she relished the wildness of the wood and the quiet surrounding her.
Walking on steadily she soon thought she was halfway to the house, and still it wasn't totally dark. She did feel a bit anxious about her long absence, the people here were not used to her habits and they might disapprove of her staying out so late. Of course she still had to learn to judge the distances, everything was so much farther away on an estate.
Nearly there, she could hear an owl screeching, and though she was not scared, the harsh sound in the silent, rapidly darkening forest did startle her.
But she was a brave young woman and continued her walk as fast as she dared in the dark. Until she heard footsteps behind her. That could be Fitzwilliam looking for her, but it could also be a poacher, or something else entirely. In a strange wood in the dark it was much easier to imagine things.
A bit spooked now, Elizabeth decided to move off the path and see who it was before he could distinguish her. It was pretty easy to step behind a thick brush, and she carefully checked her breathing to not give her presence away.
The footsteps approached rapidly, but very quietly, did Fitzwilliam have such a light tread? She really didn't know, but if this were a poacher that is how he would walk, silent like a cat. She could hear breathing now, not heavy, but controlled, like her own. Then the shape passed her clump of
brush, still noiseless but rather fast, in the ever fading light she could discern broad shoulders, narrow waist, considerable height. And very proud bearing, a poacher wouldn't have that, this had to be Fitzwilliam. But by now he was quite a bit ahead of her, and she suddenly felt a wish to have him in her arms.
Quickly moving back to the path, she stepped on a dry branch, snapping it with a distinct popping sound. The shape in front of her called out in startlement, and turned around instantly, coming towards her. He was very dark, and very large, a bit menacing actually.
Elizabeth had to restrain herself not to hide behind the brush once more, but she still had a clear head on her, it was not that late in the evening and this was private property, it had to be Fitzwilliam approaching her. She felt a stab of sudden anxiety, what if he was angry with her, what if he yelled at her?
A quiet, eager voice belied her fear.
'There you are, my love! I walked right past you, how could that be? I was starting to feel a tiny bit anxious.'
He wrapped her in his arms and she clutched herself to him even more firmly, resting her head on his broad chest. He smelled of horse, of course.
'All right, I lied. I was starting to feel very anxious, not because I think you cannot take care of yourself, but because I missed you so much.'
She felt impelled to defend herself.
'I misjudged the time of day, and the distances out here, I'm sorry to have caused you worry. Are you angry with me?' Elizabeth asked despite his warm reception of her.
'Angry?' he exclaimed, tightening his hold on her, 'who gets angry at a cat for purring or reproaches a sparrow for flying? Rambling is your nature, you can't not do it. No, I'm not angry, merely very happy to have you back in my arms. Shall we go home? Dinner will be ready.'
But before they went anywhere they kissed deeply, reunited once again.
'You know you really startled me with that noise. My heart jumped two feet inside my chest with fright. Were you hiding on purpose?'
'I heard footsteps behind me and though I knew it was probably you I decided to hide, you walked so silently I thought you might be a poacher.
When you passed by and I saw your size and especially the way you carried yourself, so proudly, I thought it had to be you. I followed you from behind
the bush, but I stepped on a branch.'
It was so good to have his large hand in hers, to walk side by side through the dark forest.
'Believe me, I didn't feel proud. An owl startled me, and you were nowhere in sight, though I knew you'd find your way home I was starting to doubt I would. I'm glad to know a poacher would not even have seen you, though you wouldn't have been in danger from one of them since you're not a deer or a hare. We have poachers here sometimes, but usually they're not dangerous to people, they are very alert and if they spot someone they merely disappear and try some other time.'
He stopped and embraced her again, kissing her hair, and her face, and her hands, and then walked on. This time they made it to the house without further stops for caresses, and once inside he asked, 'Do you want to freshen up first? It's not that late yet, it gets dark early.'
Elizabeth nodded, and replied, 'Please, if you'll come with me. I want you close the rest of the evening.'
A breathtaking smile was his confirmation.
As they entered the bedroom, Fitzwilliam seemed to be anticipating something, something pleasant, and he led her to the bed, where a long skirt of a simple design and quite a sturdy fabric lay waiting.
'Peter lent me this, he said his missus didn't need it for some time and told him to have you try it. If it fits and you like it she can make a similar one for you of any fabric and in any colour you choose. Will you please try it?'
Now Elizabeth got an idea of the boy he must have been years ago, very eager, and so sweet.
'Of course I'll try it on,' Elizabeth replied, 'but what is it?'
She picked it up and immediately understood. They were trousers made to look like a skirt. Fitzwilliam really wanted her to ride with him and he thought this was the solution. Well, she did tell him she'd straddle a horse if he dared let her, and she would. Gladly. This park was too large to explore walking, and too rough to use a carriage. She really needed to ride to see all of it.
Feeling not the slightest shame or reluctance to undress in front of him, Elizabeth took off her dress and petticoats and put on the garment. Of course it had no top, so she helped herself to one of Fitzwilliam's laced shirts, rolling up the sleeves and tucking the length into her waistband. The huge
mirror showed her a young woman in a long skirt and an oversized blouse, until she took a few steps, then she could see the skirt split, but it actually looked rather nice and flowing, and very feminine.
'Are you being overcome with heat?' she asked her husband dryly.
'I'm not anymore, not since you dressed again,' was his pleased reply, 'but I am nearly overcome with anticipation and anxiety: will you allow me to teach you to ride in this garment? Will you brave ridicule and outrage to make my dearest wish but one come true? You've already fulfilled my biggest wish, so I'll understand if you refuse.'
'I will, and gladly.' Elizabeth truly wanted to do this, for herself as well, but he had to make the decision, it was his reputation at stake.
She took off the shirt and put it back in the wardrobe neatly, then said, 'I'll need a blouse, I can make do with one of your shirts for a few days, but I prefer to wear a more feminine top. Several ones, for they'll smell of horse q
uickly, and I have a feeling you will want to ride often.'
Then she took off the skirt, or pants, and put them away as well, now undressed except for her chemise. Instead of getting her dress, she walked to the washstand and washed her face and hands, dried them, then took her eager beloved in her arms, still mostly undressed. Dinner would have to wait, they were going to be busy for half an hour.
The next day, Darcy found it hard to even take time for breakfast, he really was as excited as a boy, Elizabeth would think him totally out of his mind.
He so loved to ride, but going out by himself wasn't as fulfilling as it used to be, he really missed Elizabeth, wanted so much to show her around, and share the exhilaration of the ride with her. Then when he came back from his ride yesterday, Peter handed him the garment his wife had urged him to show the master, and Darcy barely took the time to thank her for him, eager to have Elizabeth try it on.
When he returned to the house the butler told him straight away that the mistress had gone for a solitary walk, he seemed a bit worried actually until Darcy told him that going on solitary rambles was a habit of Mrs Darcy's, to be expected of her in even the worst weather and nothing to worry about.
And he didn't worry himself, not even when he had been waiting for her return for nearly an hour and it started to get dark.
He wasn't afraid for her, he realised she had probably misjudged the distances on his estate, but he did miss her terribly. So he finally went out to
find her, following the circuit in the hopes she'd be there, actually fearing to get lost himself if he stepped off the path, his sense of direction not as keen on foot and in the dark. Then when he found her, Darcy realised Elizabeth was very pleased to see him, and eager to embrace him and kiss him, but she hadn't missed him until she saw him again. She was perfectly content to ramble on her own, she was indeed a very independent spirit.
Reminiscing would not get her on the back of a horse, though, so Darcy forced himself to eat his usual breakfast and he could see Elizabeth doing the same, a bit nervous as well. That might be because she would have to trust her life to a strong creature with a will of its own in half an hour, or it might be wearing trousers. For she insisted on putting them on straight away, to get used to the feel of the rough fabric between her legs.
In fact, Elizabeth feared Mrs Reynolds' looks, and when they met the housekeeper in the hall just before they went to the stables, she did look a bit strangely at the master's wife. But she didn't say a thing except to wish them a good morning very politely, and each continued his way.
Peter was as excited as his master, a bunch of kids with a new toy, except the toy was herself! The stablemaster, Mr Jean Hugo, a Frenchman actually, was present as well, to discuss their choice of a horse, and all three agreed that Daisy should be the one, she was the most placid horse the master had and the easiest to guide.
Without judgement Mr Hugo observed, in accentless English Elizabeth noticed,
'And Peter remembered rightly, Daisy was trained to carry a sidesaddle before you bought her, Mr Darcy. Though of course that is more than three years ago.'
Elizabeth was now anticipating riding astride, so she was very glad there was no ladies' saddle in the stables, she really wanted to try how it felt to actually be able to control the horse.
They took Daisy to a sandy paddock, Fitzwilliam asked Peter to stay with them this first time, which made Elizabeth feel even safer. Peter seemed to have a special way with horses, and he clearly loved going along, taking a long rope with him, as well as a long whip.
'Daisy may try to be lazy with a new and inexperienced rider, but don't worry Mrs Darcy, I know how to handle the whip, I won't cause her to bolt and I certainly won't hit you by accident.'
And then the moment had arrived, Peter held Daisy's head, though Elizabeth could see the good-natured creature didn't really need that, she was patient enough, while Fitzwilliam adjusted the stirrups to Elizabeth's legs, and gave her a boost up. Then she sat high on a solid saddle, but with the warm, strong body beneath her moving slightly to adjust to her weight. From the very first Elizabeth felt much safer sitting astride, her balance was much more natural, both feet had support from the stirrups, she could squeeze her legs to hold on to the horse. That caused Daisy's ears to perk up, and Peter noticed.
'Did you squeeze your legs, Mrs Darcy, begging your pardon for the frankness of the question?'
Elizabeth laughed and replied, 'No offence taken, Peter, I'm sure you have my safety in mind with your question. I did, I felt safe holding on to the horse that way. Please speak freely.'
A broad smile spread over Peter's face, and he explained.
'Daisy is very sensitive, and she has been trained to listen to very subtle commands. She is supposed to start moving when the rider squeezes his legs. I could see her ears move in expectation of instruction what to do next.
Better let your legs rest in the stirrups and try to keep your balance instead of holding on to her with your legs. That will confuse her.'
The next half hour was very tiring for Elizabeth, but very rewarding as well.
Peter turned out to be an excellent instructor; after he had conquered his first hesitation to tell a lady how to adjust her seat and to name the separate parts of her leg that she had to move to control the horse, he proceeded to tell his mistress how to set Daisy in motion and let her make turns with nothing but her seat and legs.
When they were having a short pause from instruction and Elizabeth was merely riding circles in a nice stride, Fitzwilliam came towards her and fell in stride with her horse.
He was so happy, her beloved, walking along with her on a horse, seeing her perfectly at ease on this strong but very well-behaved mare.
'It is such a difference, sitting astride. I'm not afraid at all, I'm looking forward to going out with you.'
'You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, my love! And who would have thought Peter would be such a good instructor?' Fitzwilliam said with great respect, 'I think you'll need a few more lessons right here, at least until
you've felt all the gaits, but Daisy does seem very tractable, not the kind to throw you or run back home. You don't mind someone else giving you lessons, do you? He's very good at it, he is teaching you things I didn't know, though I've been on a horse since I was four years old.'
'I certainly don't mind,' Elizabeth replied, 'he has a way of explaining things that I understand immediately. And he is very cute when he has to mention a part of a woman he isn't supposed to know a lady of standing even has.'
And Peter might be modest to the point of humility, he was a true instructor, for five minutes later he was ready to go on.
'With your permission, Mr Darcy, I'd like to continue Mrs Darcy's lesson.
She's progressing exceedingly well, knowing Daisy's nature very well I think your lady wife may be up to going out with you in a few days.'
'Of course I will retreat, Peter, I'm back to observing your lesson straight away. Do you mind if I join you tomorrow? I'm very impressed with your knowledge, I think I can improve my riding with your help. Where did you get such instruction yourself?'
That had Peter stunned for a few moments, his cheeks blushed hotly and he studied his shoes with great concentration. When he had regained a semblance of composure he stammered, 'Mr Darcy, sir, thank you for your kind compliments. I'm just a stable boy, I don't deserve such praise. Of course you're welcome to join Mrs Darcy, but do you truly think to learn something? You're a superb rider!'
Fitzwilliam was clearly affected by his servant's shyness, and trying not to make it worse he replied gently.
'I think you underestimate yourself, Peter, Mrs Darcy had never ridden a horse astride, and look at her sitting on Daisy as if she has never done differently. I know I can stay on nearly every horse I want to, and I can get it to do what I want, but I want to learn your subtlety, go with the horse instead of forcing it. Please tell me where you learned that, I know you're not originally from a farm.'
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br /> That worked, for Peter now stood firmer and spoke up proudly.
'It's my missus, sir, she sometimes teaches me on her father's horses. He breeds hunters for the gentry, and she gentles them for him. She said to me,
'Peter, if you're going to ride Mr Darcy's horses every day, you will not ruin them with a heavy hand and a bulky seat. Let me teach you to ride properly.'
And she did.'
'Please give your missus my regards,' Fitzwilliam said, 'or, you know what?
We'll do it ourselves, will you ask her to make a few of those trousers for Elizabeth, and we'll come visit this week. Does she have time to make them herself, or will she be able to get help from your family or village?'
Proud of his missus, Peter chose to ignore the implications of having the master honour his wife with a visit, and replied to his question.
'She will be glad to have something to do, sir, she's usually very active and she can do hardly anything now. Since she's had to stop riding and I'm away most of the time she's been a bit unhappy. She'll be honoured to have you visit, sir, and ma'am.'
That was certain to touch a nerve in Fitzwilliam, he had seen his mother unhappy being left alone during her pregnancy, and though Peter only stated his long absence as a fact and a reason for his missus to be pleased to sew for his mistress, Fitzwilliam would not forget it and most likely would do something about it. Elizabeth could see it in his expression. They had gotten to know one another quite well in their short time together.
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