Page 3 of The Cherry Trees of Rosings
No one could deny that Mr. Darcy was an exceedingly handsome man. And standing where she was, she could almost feel her heart softening at the sight.
That was… until she remembered his odious behavior in Meryton and what he had said about her on their very first meeting. A familiar grimace replaced the smile she had not realized had appeared on her lips.Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and approached him.
“Hello, Mr. Darcy!” she called, as she neared. “How are you doing on this fine day?”
The man seemed to jolt into awareness at her voice.
He turned, fixing her with a gaze of such intensity that she took an unconscious step back.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said. Then he peered at her in confusion.
“I am visiting Mr. Collins and his wife at the parsonage,” she offered helpfully. “You may know the new Mrs. Collins as Charlotte Lucas from when you were last in Meryton.”
Mr. Darcy did not reply.
When the silence became awkward and he continued to stare at her oddly, Elizabeth asked, “Did you only just arrive at Rosings?”
The confused look on Mr. Darcy’s face intensified.
“Rosings?”
Elizabeth tipped her head to one side. She did not believe she had ever been in an interaction as strange as the one she was in right then.
“Yes. We had tea there yesterday.” A frown touched her brows.
“Perhaps you heard about it from your aunt?”
Mr. Darcy’s unceasing stare was beginning to disconcert her. Elizabeth felt a strange coldnesstip-tapdown her spine. She took another step back.
“Right, well… I shall leave you to it,” she said. She gestured at the blooming cherry trees around them. “Good day, Mr. Darcy!”
She practically fled the scene.
Chapter 3:
Through…and Through
She saw him under the cherry trees the next day as well. Elizabeth huffed in annoyance.
Why could not Mr. Darcy choose a different path?
She wanted to enjoy the cherry blossoms while they lasted… which would be barely another week or so. She sighed.
As Lady Catherine’s nephew, she supposed Mr. Darcy had a greater claim to the enjoyment of the cherry trees on the vast grounds of Rosings Park. Yet, once she returned to the parsonage, Elizabeth could not help but comment on the annoyance to Charlotte.
The conversation unfolded over tea in the small room at the back of the cottage.
“Mr. Darcy?” Charlotte asked, confusion evident on her face. “But Eliza, surely Mr. Collins would have mentioned something if Mr. Darcy was visiting.”
Elizabeth frowned.
“Yes, I found that odd too.”
She sipped her tea.
“Perhaps he was told not to?” she hedged. “Though I cannot imagine why.”
“Hmm.”
