Read Online Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley by Sharon Lathan - Free Book Online Page A

dashing on a black horse across the field. Almost instantly she realized that it was Mr. Darcy. She had seen him once on his horse at Netherfield, but it was not that fact as much as something in his posture, even from a great distance, that assured her it was him. She frowned with irritation, yet found herself rising to her feet and climbing the fence to better observe him. Even to her relatively untrained eye, there was no doubt he was a superb horseman. He would have to be in order to attain the speed he had raced along at. It was mesmerizing. Grace, power, and oneness with his mount beautifully exhibited as he zoomed along, turning in a wide, flowing arc toward the trees where she stood. He did not see her, nor was she fully cognizant of his directional change until he was nearly beside her. He skidded to a halt, both he and the horse breathing heavily, and rudely stared at her for a very long while, his face a mask of shocked surprise and some other emotion she could not identify. For her part, she was merely embarrassed to have been caught spying on him and annoyed that now her solitude was disturbed and she would be forced to talk to him when he so obviously disliked her.
    She raised her chin impudently, noted a flash of confusion cross his visage, and snapped, "Demons chasing you, Mr. Darcy, or do you have a death wish?"
    He seemed to have partially recovered his composure and replied seriously in a shaky voice, "Good day to you, Miss Elizabeth. Neither demons nor a death wish inspire me. I assure you I am capable of handling my mount and Parsifal delights in speed. He would be sorely displeased with me if we galloped sedately." His voice warmed slightly as he affectionately patted the horse's sweaty neck.
    "Parsifal is it? Can I assume, therefore, that you appreciate the German poem by von Eschenbach, or is it a coincidence?"
    Darcy raised his brows, clearly amazed. "I am impressed, Miss Elizabeth. Do you read all German poetry, or is it Arthurian legends which interest you?"
    She shrugged. "My father has eclectic tastes, Mr. Darcy. He will read whatever he can get his hands on and then he lends the volume to me. I confess to enjoying medieval literature, although not the romantic varieties as much. As for German poetry, well, I am afraid my knowledge of the modern languages is limited. I am not so accomplished, you see."
    Darcy flushed and coughed. "Accomplishment is gauged in a myriad of ways, Miss Elizabeth. Do not take Miss Bingley's words too seriously."
    She laughed gaily, eliciting a small smile from him. "Oh, be comforted, sir. I actually have a reputation for frivolity and irreverence. Miss Bingley did not disturb me."
    Silence descended, Mr. Darcy staring at her in that strange, undecipherable manner of his. Lizzy, to her utter horror, found her eyes drifting from his face to the open collar of his shirt. She flushed, averting her gaze quickly, mind suddenly revisiting the touch of his bare, warm, and strong hand when he assisted her into the carriage when leaving Netherfield. Anger rose in her chest then, as if it was somehow his fault for the slant of her musings, and she flared. "I imagine you and your sister read von Eschenbach in the original German?" She cringed inwardly at the inanity of her remark as well as the tone but glared challengingly and lifted her chin nonetheless.
    Mr. Darcy frowned slightly. "Yes, of course, although Miss Darcy's German is not as fluent as her French. She is improving though." He trailed off lamely.
    Concluding that he must be bored silly and annoyed with the conversation, especially with her, Lizzy declared briskly, "Well, Mr. Darcy, if you will excuse me, I need to be returning to Longbourn and I have detained your horse from his race quite long enough."
    He seemed to hesitate, struggling internally with something, and then bowed his head. "Of course, Miss Elizabeth. Forgive me for keeping you. I pray your day continues to be a pleasant one." Despite his farewell, he yet