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“If at all possible, one that does not find me in your arms,” Elizabeth declared boldly.

“What say you to fencing? The thrusting and pressing, exciting back and forth conversation, it seems a nice change of pace,” Darcy recommended.

“I am afraid not, Mr. Darcy. Fencing is not my forte,” Elizabeth said, not so innocently, refusing to take the bait but enjoying the repartee all the same.

“That is likely because you have never witnessed its proper execution,” Darcy leaned forward and whispered in her ear, before heading over to oversee the remainder of Ben’s archery lessons.

Ben was eager to demonstrate all he had learnt. Without any help, Ben landed a perfect shot in a target strategically placed a short distance away.

Darcy clapped his hands, “Excellent! You have learnt your lesson well.” Ben was immensely proud of his accomplishments and accepted Darcy’s commendations with a generous smile. After observing a few other successful attempts, Darcy asked Ben if he would like to join him for a fencing match. Ben was very agreeable.

Together, King Arthur and Sir Lancelot engaged in a challenging match where it was determined the winner would have the honour of teaching the sport to Guinevere. Lancelot proved the victor, thereby forcing his king to step aside.

Alas, poor Darcy stood alone on the side-lines. He suffered as best he could, the exceedingly pleasurable prospect of the woman he absolutely adored, prancing gaily about, armed with a crude, hastily crafted wooden foil in a make-believe match with her son.

The final adventure was the horseback riding excursion. Darcy had one of the jousting horsemen, a groom whom Ben had met the day before, bring forth the pony chosen earlier for Ben’s riding pleasure. Ben ran to the lanky young man’s side and began smoothing the pony’s coat.

Another groom brought a beautiful Chestnut mare forth and handed the reins over to Darcy. Darcy beckoned Elizabeth to come closer, gently reminding her she risked forfeiting the right to bear her chosen appellation should she fail that final challenge.

Elizabeth’s courage always rose with any attempt to intimidate her. This dare proved no different. Sooner than even she would have imagined, she found herself in Darcy’s arms once more. Standing nearer to her than he would have had she been anyone else, Darcy placed his hands about her waist. He slowly lifted her from the ground and then placed her side-saddled on the mare.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth intently before moving to mount his own stallion. He did not intend they should go very far. Accepting the reins of Elizabeth’s horse, whilst the groom did accordingly with the reins of Ben’s pony, they all set upon an exceedingly slow-paced ride about the perimeter of the improvised festival staging grounds.

Having returned to their original spot, Darcy dismounted his horse and moved to lift Elizabeth down. As he lowered her ever so slowly to the ground, Elizabeth spoke brazenly, “So, pray tell me, Mr. Darcy, have I passed the test?”

“Indeed,” he uttered, “there is no contest where you are concerned, madam.”

Ben was not as eager to stop riding as was his mother. He pleaded with his king to allow him to ride a while longer.

Darcy could not object. He approached the groom, giving him specific instructions on where he should lead Ben’s pony and advising him not to go beyond the eyesight of the child’s mother.

Darcy had much he wanted to say to Elizabeth. He was more than pleased with how the morning had progressed and was eager to establish a means of moving things along. Darcy took a seat beside Elizabeth and reached for her hand. She moved it away within mere seconds of his titillating touch.

Darcy smiled. He recalled his mantra—discipline and patience.

“My lady, I wish very much for the two of us to resume where we left off that late night at Netherfield Park.”

Elizabeth knew exactly the night of which he spoke. The intense fire he had unleashed inside her was such that she might never forget it. Still, she was not apt to confess that to him. She asked coyly, “To what night are you referring, Mr. Darcy?”

“That late night when I stood just outside your bedchamber door, after having waited for what seemed like forever for you to leave your sister’s side. The night when no one else moved about the darkened corridors, save you and me. The night I took your lovely hand in mine,” Darcy reached for her hand again and raised it to his lips, “and softly kissed it, like so.” Once again, he demonstrated, allowing them both to drift back to the fascination of that mutually cherished place in time.

“I beseeched you for a chance to begin anew,” he spoke, at length.

Elizabeth slowly withdrew her hand and returned it to her lap. “What are you asking of me, Mr. Darcy?”

“Meet me alone,” he tenderly commanded.

Elizabeth was breathless. The passion in his plea threatened to melt every remaining trace of her battered resolve.

“Please, understand me. I love spending time with both you and Ben. However, what I really need is some time alone with you. Time alone, just the two of us, where we might have no thoughts of being interrupted.”

Elizabeth could feel her heart pounding, her pulse racing. Her mind filled with sensational possibilities and conflicting sentiments, threatening her equanimity. If she did not speak out, without doubt, it would be her undoing.

“Mr. Darcy, I am not at liberty to do as you suggest, surely—” Elizabeth’s trembling speech ceased, halted by the now familiar touch of his fingers on her lips.

“Do not say it. You hardly even know the gentleman,” Darcy insisted.

“I hardly know you,” she barely voiced aloud.

“I realise that. That is why I wish for some time alone with you. A long walk is all I ask for so you and I might have a chance to talk—to learn more of each other. If you would but say yes, I will endeavour to behave the perfect gentleman.”

The irony of his expressed sentiments brought a slight smirk to her lovely countenance. From the moment of their earliest acquaintance, he had managed to ignite profound passion deep inside her with the slightest of touches. He knew it as well as did she. “Do I have your promise?” Elizabeth was compelled at least to ask, for reasons she could not quite fathom, for what if he said yes.

“I promise only to do that which you wish me to do,” he offered. “Meet me here, alone, and I will lead you to a place where we will be assured of our privacy.”

Darcy and Elizabeth soon noticed the groomsman approaching on foot, leading Ben back to them. Each acknowledged the moment with dissimilar emotions. Discouraged, Darcy needed more time. Relieved, Elizabeth was grateful for the interruption. Her mind and body, she even suspected her heart, were utterly discordant. She rose from her chair.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for arranging this wonderful morning for Ben. I shall forever be in your debt.” She began to walk towards her son.

“Meet me!”

Elizabeth chose not to respond to Darcy’s appeal. Rather, she took Ben by the hand and told him they would be missed if they did not return to the parsonage house post-haste. The three of them said their goodbyes and Elizabeth and Ben took their leave, rushing off whilst Darcy stood there watching until they were completely out of sight.