The Eldest | F. Darcy

Chapter 10: Mr. Collins

The news of Mr. Collins's impending visit had thrown the Bennet household into a mild uproar, but Adele had already excused herself for a long walk. She found solace in the outdoors, and on this particular morning, James Lucas had joined her for a stroll toward Oakham Mountain.

Their peaceful walk, however, was interrupted by the sound of approaching hooves.

"Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy," Adele greeted, offering a polite curtsy as James bowed beside her. "Good to see you both. I hope your morning has been pleasant."

Bingley, as ever, grinned warmly. "Indeed, Miss Bennet! And I trust you and Miss Jane are in the best of health?"

"We are, thank you," she replied with a gracious nod. Then, without much thought, she added, "James and I were just walking toward Oakham Mountain. Would you care to join us?"

Bingley was already forming a polite refusal, but Darcy, who had been burning with jealousy the moment he saw James at her side, was quicker.

"Oh yes," he said firmly, before Bingley could object. "We would love to. Thank you."

Adele stiffened at her mistake, regretting the invitation immediately. James, meanwhile, smirked knowingly as he caught the tension in Darcy's gaze.

Darcy dismounted and handed the reins to a stable boy before moving to join the group. He had already formed an opinion of James Lucas—tall, golden-eyed, and far too charming for his liking. The easy smile James wore only added to his irritation.

As they walked, Bingley and Lucas fell into pleasant conversation, but Darcy remained mostly silent, his attention fixed on Adele.

Unable to hold back any longer, he moved toward her and, in a moment of rare boldness, extended his arm.

Adele hesitated, her wide violet-blue eyes flicking to his face in surprise. Darcy felt his breath catch—if only she knew what her gaze did to him. Her cocoa-colored curls framed her face as a soft breeze teased through them, making her appear even lovelier in the morning light.

After a pause, she placed her hand on his arm, and Darcy tensed at the contact. He felt the light pressure of her fingers against the crook of his arm, even through the layers of his coat.

She inhaled sharply—had she felt it too?

"Miss Bennet," he asked, his voice lower than he intended, "shall we rest for a moment?"

"I am quite well, thank you," she answered, though her voice held a slight breathlessness.

Darcy silently vowed to keep his composure, but his admiration of her only deepened as they walked on.

Adele's gaze drifted to the side of the path, where a single daisy stood tall amidst the grass. A soft smile touched her lips as she admired its simple beauty.

Darcy, without thinking, stopped and released her arm.

She turned to him in confusion as he stepped forward, plucked the daisy, and returned to her side.

For a moment, she simply stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then, as he extended the flower toward her, she smiled lightly. She reached for it, but as their fingers brushed, a jolt of something unspoken passed between them.

Her breath hitched ever so slightly. His did too.

"Thank you, sir," she said, her voice softer than before.

Darcy took her arm once more, though this time, his hand lingered atop hers longer than propriety dictated.

"Roses die in the summer winds," he murmured, "but daisies last forever."