Page 67 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

“Sir, I should like to stand upon this stone, if you have no objection.”

“Not at all, Miss Elizabeth. I will assist you. Come to this end. My sister and I have climbed it often enough through the years.”

Georgiana, who had continued around the perimeter, hurried toward them. “Brother, I should like to climb up with Lizzy.”

Mr. Gardiner observed the proceedings.

“You go first, little sister, since you are accustomed to it.”

She took her brother’s hand. Darcy followed the edge of the stone as Georgiana found her footing and climbed to the top. He then offered Elizabeth his hand.

She met his smile and placed her gloved hand in his. His grasp closed around hers as he assisted her onto the limestone block with such care that the touch seemed almost tender.

He released her and climbed up beside them.

Elizabeth surveyed the countryside in every direction. Green fields stretched before her, woods along the horizon had begun to turn gold, and white clouds drifted across the blue sky. Her gaze found her uncle, and they exchanged smiles.

Then she met Mr. Darcy’s eyes. His expression held such pleasure that the corners of his eyes crinkled. His teeth were white and even, his smile as handsome as the rest of him. Upon this ancient stone in the Derbyshire hills, he might have been one of the heroes of old suddenly brought to life.

His expression changed, and the fanciful thought fled.

A light breeze crossed the plateau, and she shivered.

“Miss Elizabeth, would you like to return?” His words broke the profound silence.

She looked toward her uncle, who signaled his agreement.

“Mr. Gardiner, would you permit us to return with you?”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy, that would be pleasant. Perhaps on our return, you will explain where those great blocks of stone were quarried.”

Before he answered, Mr. Darcy addressed his sister. “Georgiana, do you wish to walk or ride? Shall I help you mount, Daisy?”

“I will ride, Brother.”

After assisting his sister into the saddle, he answered Mr. Gardiner.

“Sir, they are believed to be local Derbyshire limestone. Arbor Low itself stands upon the limestone plateau of the White Peak.”

“Ah, so there is one mystery cleared,” Mr. Gardiner said with a laugh.

“Sir, can you tell me of any local tales concerning this place?” Elizabeth ventured.

“Tales, ma’am?”

“Yes, sir. Mysterious occurrences, perhaps, or tales concerning the purpose of this place or persons who may have gone missing.”

Mr. Darcy considered the question. “I fear I have very little to tell you. My father was a reserved man and not much inclined to conversation unless it concerned the estate and its management. My mother’s family, the Fitzwilliams, are from the Matlock area, but she was devoted to music and spent much of her time in London. She had no use or love for the local traditions.”

A shadow crossed his expression at the mention of his mother, and Elizabeth changed the subject.

“Do you also spend most of your time in London?”

“No. I spend most of my time on my estate. I do not care for the crowds at balls and other entertainments. I prefer the Derbyshire countryside above all. And you, Miss Elizabeth?”

“Sir, I spent most of my life upon my father’s estate in Hertfordshire. Since his death in May, I have lived in London with my uncle. But I do enjoy my time in town.”

“Yes, I expect any young woman would delight in shopping at Harding Howell or Clark’s on Wigmore Street.”