Read Online The Houseguest A Pride and Prejudice Vagary by Elizabeth Adams - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elizabeth Adams
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hide her triumph in getting the impenetrable Mr. Darcy to
divulge information he didn’t want to part with; she could hardly keep the
smile off her face. Mr. Darcy caught her look, and thinking it was for him,
continued with new enthusiasm and uncommon openness.
“I had gotten a new horse for my fifteenth birthday as a gift from my father.
As a sort of initiation ritual, Richard, Cyril and I decided to race our stallions
through Pemberley’s meadows, down a small hill to a river in the valley. The
whole distance was about two miles. As we started off, everything was as it
usually was. Richard was in the lead, being more daring than his brother, even
though Cyril is his senior by two years and mine by three. Cyril and I were
right behind Richard, neck and neck. Then out of nowhere, Richard’s mount
seemed to startle and veer to the right, directly in front of me. We almost
collided, but Richard was quick enough to get him back on track and avoid
disaster. It was enough of a distraction for Cyril to pull ahead. He ended up
beating us by a hair.”
Elizabeth was so caught up in the story that she didn’t realize she was staring
up at Mr. Darcy’s profile raptly. When he looked down at her and met her eyes,
she smiled eagerly at him and said, “And then what happened?”
Darcy chuckled softly at her enthusiasm and continued, “Knowing Cyril as we
did, we suspected he’d somehow made Richard’s horse startle. So while he was
down at the river, we looked into his saddlebags. Sure enough, there was a blow
gun.”
“A blow gun?” She peered at him with a confused look on her face. He lifted his
hand to smooth her brow, but stopped himself just in time. Luckily she didn’t
seem to notice his slip.
“Yes. A blow gun is a hollowed out stick or pole in which you place a stone or
a dart of some kind. You then put it to your mouth and blow, pointing it in the
direction you wish to shoot. In this case, to the hind quarters of Richard’s
mount. It’s not enough to hurt the animal, just startle it off its course. So
we decided to get revenge.”
Elizabeth’s eyes were wide as she looked up at him expectantly.
“It was a hot day in early summer, and we were a little worse for the wear. So
we suggested to Cyril that we take a dip in the river. It was not so unusual,
we’d done it several times in years past, though not recently. So we all went
for a swim and as Cyril was leaning against the banks with his eyes closed,
after an hour of bragging about his winning the race I might add, Richard and I
gathered up his clothes, quickly mounted our horses and headed back to the
stables, leaving a rather bare Cyril with nothing but his stallion for cover.”
Miss Bennet’s gasp brought him back to the present and he looked down at her
shocked face. He was grinning mischievously (and not a little proudly) as she
stared up at him with wide eyes. “You mean you were swimming without, without
your… I mean you didn’t have, you weren’t wearing any…” she stammered and
trailed off. As Darcy tried to catch her meaning, she blushed and looked
down.
“Oh!” he exclaimed as realization hit him. “Yes, I suppose we were. Forgive me,
Miss Bennet. This story really isn’t at all appropriate for a young lady’s
ears.” He flushed and looked away, embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to get so
carried away.
“No, Mr. Darcy, you gave me fair warning and I insisted. I was just a little
surprised. I am quite collected now. Pray, do continue your story. I’m most
interested to hear how it ends.” She looked at him playfully and he carried on.
“Well, Richard and I made it back in good time, but we didn’t know when Cyril
would arrive, or even if he would. We’d left his horse tied to a tree, although
Richard did consider sending it off as well, but thought better of it. We
thought he might head to a barn or try to sneak in through one of the servants’
entrances. We certainly didn’t expect him at the stables. So we sat in
divulge information he didn’t want to part with; she could hardly keep the
smile off her face. Mr. Darcy caught her look, and thinking it was for him,
continued with new enthusiasm and uncommon openness.
“I had gotten a new horse for my fifteenth birthday as a gift from my father.
As a sort of initiation ritual, Richard, Cyril and I decided to race our stallions
through Pemberley’s meadows, down a small hill to a river in the valley. The
whole distance was about two miles. As we started off, everything was as it
usually was. Richard was in the lead, being more daring than his brother, even
though Cyril is his senior by two years and mine by three. Cyril and I were
right behind Richard, neck and neck. Then out of nowhere, Richard’s mount
seemed to startle and veer to the right, directly in front of me. We almost
collided, but Richard was quick enough to get him back on track and avoid
disaster. It was enough of a distraction for Cyril to pull ahead. He ended up
beating us by a hair.”
Elizabeth was so caught up in the story that she didn’t realize she was staring
up at Mr. Darcy’s profile raptly. When he looked down at her and met her eyes,
she smiled eagerly at him and said, “And then what happened?”
Darcy chuckled softly at her enthusiasm and continued, “Knowing Cyril as we
did, we suspected he’d somehow made Richard’s horse startle. So while he was
down at the river, we looked into his saddlebags. Sure enough, there was a blow
gun.”
“A blow gun?” She peered at him with a confused look on her face. He lifted his
hand to smooth her brow, but stopped himself just in time. Luckily she didn’t
seem to notice his slip.
“Yes. A blow gun is a hollowed out stick or pole in which you place a stone or
a dart of some kind. You then put it to your mouth and blow, pointing it in the
direction you wish to shoot. In this case, to the hind quarters of Richard’s
mount. It’s not enough to hurt the animal, just startle it off its course. So
we decided to get revenge.”
Elizabeth’s eyes were wide as she looked up at him expectantly.
“It was a hot day in early summer, and we were a little worse for the wear. So
we suggested to Cyril that we take a dip in the river. It was not so unusual,
we’d done it several times in years past, though not recently. So we all went
for a swim and as Cyril was leaning against the banks with his eyes closed,
after an hour of bragging about his winning the race I might add, Richard and I
gathered up his clothes, quickly mounted our horses and headed back to the
stables, leaving a rather bare Cyril with nothing but his stallion for cover.”
Miss Bennet’s gasp brought him back to the present and he looked down at her
shocked face. He was grinning mischievously (and not a little proudly) as she
stared up at him with wide eyes. “You mean you were swimming without, without
your… I mean you didn’t have, you weren’t wearing any…” she stammered and
trailed off. As Darcy tried to catch her meaning, she blushed and looked
down.
“Oh!” he exclaimed as realization hit him. “Yes, I suppose we were. Forgive me,
Miss Bennet. This story really isn’t at all appropriate for a young lady’s
ears.” He flushed and looked away, embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to get so
carried away.
“No, Mr. Darcy, you gave me fair warning and I insisted. I was just a little
surprised. I am quite collected now. Pray, do continue your story. I’m most
interested to hear how it ends.” She looked at him playfully and he carried on.
“Well, Richard and I made it back in good time, but we didn’t know when Cyril
would arrive, or even if he would. We’d left his horse tied to a tree, although
Richard did consider sending it off as well, but thought better of it. We
thought he might head to a barn or try to sneak in through one of the servants’
entrances. We certainly didn’t expect him at the stables. So we sat in
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