“In addition, dearest, I do have some experience driving a carriage. My father taught me the basics when I was young and would on occasion let me take the reins. As for the horses,” she rose and approached his back until she was just behind him, “I have been thinking about that, too. One thing that horrible man Orman said did resonate.”
Darcy twitched when she mentioned the Marquis’s name and turned to peer at his wife. She continued, “I am a Darcy, and it is not proper that I should know so little about horses nor be afraid of them. I reason that this endeavor will acquaint me with horses in a general way and then you can teach me to ride.”
Darcy was shaking his head slowly. “Elizabeth, I do not care if you ride or despise horses. It matters naught to me. I would never wish for you to attempt an employment that may cause you pain or anxiety.”
“William, it matters to me. This is something I need to do, for the reasons I have told you and more.” She stood before him now, running her hands along the edge of his robe as she met his eyes. “I want to see all of Pemberley, and you stated much of it is inaccessible except by horseback. I do not suspect I shall ever be an accomplished horsewoman, and I would appreciate it if you avoid assigning me Parsifal’s sister or baby brother.” She laughed and he smiled. “Yet, this is a challenge I desire to conquer and I can only triumph with your help.”
Thus it was that for the subsequent month or so, the Darcys could be found in the courtyard on clear days with the smallest and sturdiest curricle in the carriage house and two of the six horses deemed by Darcy and Mr. Thurber, the head groomsman, as the most steadfast, unflappable, and manageable. Darcy and Mr. Thurber were both impressed at Lizzy’s bullheaded stubbornness and inexhaustible application. Within days she could competently navigate up and down the lengthy avenue before Pemberley. Darcy hovered close by on horseback as he trailed her about, prepared to physically launch himself onto the out-of-control vehicle if necessary; however, that never occurred.
The unpredictable weather did not allow for consistent application to Lizzy’s lessons, but by the end of January, Darcy deemed her adequate. Once Darcy and Mr. Thurber jointly declared Lizzy competent, Darcy graduated to teaching her how to handle a phaeton. The phaeton, although larger than a curricle, was still rather small. Darcy made it abundantly clear to his wife and to the entire stable staff that Mrs. Darcy was never to be allowed to commandeer a phaeton on her own; however, he reasoned that if she could adequately drive the larger vehicle, then a curricle should offer few challenges.
For the following two weeks, between sporadic storms, Lizzy devoted her energy to conquering the unwieldy carriage as well as her own rising temper. Darcy was the soul of patience; however, he was also exorbitantly comprehensive and privately harbored continued feelings of unease at the whole concept of her driving out, alone, with a curricle.
“No, Elizabeth. You must keep a tighter grip on the reins. The animals will not respond appropriately if you do not command them.” His large hands clasped hers and squeezed painfully to exhibit, for the hundredth time, the force necessary. Lizzy gritted her teeth and pressed her lips to halt the sharp retort she wished to make. “Always you must retain focus and use every muscle of your arms and shoulders. You are not naturally as strong, thus the greater the need to concentrate and exert yourself.” He frowned as he adjusted the leather straps about her gloved fingers.
“This is nonsense, William!” she snapped. “I will not be taking the phaeton, only the curricle, which I drove perfectly. This is just a waste of time! You are stalling and purposefully finding fault. You do not want me to succeed, do you?” She glared at him and he glared back.
Normally, Darcy loved her spirit, but right now he only experienced a tremendous urge to bend her over his knee and paddle her. Instead, with effort, he took the reins into his hands and coldly intoned, “Very well, Mrs. Darcy, let us go back,” and without further conversation he briskly slapped the horses’ rumps and hastened down the avenue to the stable yard. He pulled to a skidding stop and vaulted out, striding with contained fury to Mr. Thurber and leaving Lizzy sitting on the seat.
She bit her lip, remorse at her outburst warring with her aggravation. Darcy was intently speaking with Mr. Thurber, who glanced blandly at Lizzy as he nodded his head in agreement with whatever his master was requesting of him. Lizzy climbed down by herself and waited with growing vexation. Mr. Thurber left with a flurry of activity ensuing at his orders while Darcy stood with rigid back to his wife.
Within minutes, several grooms had hitched the curricle and saddled Parsifal. Darcy swung onto his stallion’s back in one powerful motion, settled, and only then looked to Lizzy. His countenance was calm but stern, eyes a deep blue and jaw set. Lizzy knew this look, and it was not a pleasant one. She flinched briefly and then collected herself and met his glower full on. His eyes narrowed dangerously, grew even darker, and his jaw muscle contracted with a spasm.
“Go ahead, Elizabeth,” he demanded with a gesture at the curricle. “Drive. Down the lane toward the road. Speedily as you can. Go!”
Lizzy was seething. She would show him! She took her time, breathing deeply to calm herself, careful to check the horses and hitch and rigging as taught, sitting attentively with feet planted, and grasping the reins firmly before she flicked them and gave the command. She sedately and adeptly steered the twosome in two circles about the large front courtyard, studiously avoiding Darcy’s stare, before she urged the animals to a trot down the boulevard. She cautiously picked up speed. Darcy had previously drilled into her the law, as he saw it, of maintaining a slow pace. However, he had just told her to go faster, so she urged the horses into a moderate canter.
The sensation was exhilarating! Although the curricle was not truly moving very fast, the flow of the chill wind on her face as the scenery sped by was enlivening. She laughed. Suddenly, the sharp staccato blast of a gunshot erupted to her right and Lizzy yelped as several events occurred simultaneously. The horses reared slightly in fright and then leapt forward with a jolt into a run; her own shock caused her to loosen her grip on the reins momentarily; and the jarring from the bolt ahead nearly unseated her as she rapped her head smartly against the metal sidebar.
She saw stars and gasped in a moment of panic, but she rapidly recovered as the instruction drummed into her by Darcy assailed her consciousness. She locked her legs and arms, violently clutched the reins as she leaned slightly into the forward momentum of the animals’ panicked direction, and eased back on the reins firmly but gradually. Vocalizing the calming words Darcy had taught her, she increased the pull on the horses as they swerved and lunged ahead.
She began freshly to panic as her efforts seemingly had no effect when two facts invaded her awareness. One was the imperceptible slowing of the horses’ pace and the other was her husband racing along beside the curricle. Just as Darcy twisted precariously out of the saddle to grab one of the bridles, the horses precipitously skidded to a stop. Lizzy was thrown abruptly forward, sheer luck and clenched legs keeping her from toppling over. Only Darcy’s superior horsemanship kept him from plunging off Parsifal, and even in Lizzy’s state of breathless distress, she was awed at how fluidly he handled his mount as he righted his body and spun about. He was at her side and dismounted before she had even taken a breath, heaving her out and into his crushing embrace in one expeditious move.