Snowbound at Hartfield by Maria Grace

Author:Maria Grace [Grace, Maria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sweet romance, pride and prejudice sequel, persuasion sequel, regency romance, second chances, Jane austen variation
ISBN: 9780998093727
Publisher: White Soup Press
Published: 2017-01-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

The next day, Miss Elliot kept to her room, claiming a return of her fever. More likely she was avoiding her father as he wandered about, declaring that he was preparing to leave Hartfield. For a few moments, the colonel was tempted to feel sorry for the man who seemed barely capable of managing such practical action. How difficult, to be so dependent upon servants for such basic things.

The urge was short-lived, though, fading into disgust as the baronet berated both his servants and Hartfield’s. No wonder Miss Elliot avoided him. When at last Sir Walter left, Knightley shut the door firmly and muttered something under his breath that sounded alarmingly like “good riddance.”

The next morning, Miss Elliot still did not appear. Was it ungentlemanly to question her absence, now that they had agreed to a courtship that was to be conducted in a very short time? Sadly, it was the sort of trick too many women of his acquaintance would readily play with a man.

Apparently, though, Liza wondered as well. She had made a point of sitting with the invalid and reading to her to keep her spirits up. Over luncheon, Liza casually offered her observation that Mrs. Knightley’s invitation to stay had been a very good thing. Taking to the road, even in the improved weather, would certainly have turned Miss Elliot’s cold into something quite dangerous.

Bless Liza.

It was a maddening tease, though, to have the intent to pursue a courtship only to be stayed by the very reason for the opportunity.

Patience had never been his chosen virtue, though, and that would not change now.

Distraction. He needed some distraction.

There was only one thing to do: apply himself to the estate records supplied by the solicitor. Darcy had been lecturing him on the need to attend to them, so he might as well satisfy his task master.

Dear God, he was truly desperate.

He sat down and stared at the stack of books on the desk. No one could fault Markham’s thoroughness. He was more fastidious than Darcy—a fact it would be delightful to point out at the correct moment.

Fitzwilliam leaned back and stretched, trying not to hit the wall behind him. Knightley had been thoughtful, replacing the small writing desk in his room with a more substantial working desk. It had made for a bit of a trial, squeezing his too-tall frame into the limited space between walls and furnishings.

Hopefully the study at Listingbrook would be a bit more spacious.

Listingbrook.

What was he going to do with an estate? It was not as if Father had bothered to teach him anything about land management. His attitude was similar to Sir Walter’s: stewards were for that sort of thing.

Now Darcy—and Knightley following Darcy’s example—seemed to be trying to pour a lifetime of knowledge and experience into him so fast he gasped for air like a drowning man.

Drowning.

Cold water, closing in, covering over him.

He sprang from his seat and paced the room, gulping lungsful of air as he went. More ... more .

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