up to the front door were sound, and the rooms, though smelling somewhat stale, were dry and in good condition. The floorboards felt firm as she walked over them and the window shutters were unrotted. There was no furniture and no decorations, save for the cobwebs that were strung from every corner and were hanging in festoons from every shelf or ledge. She went over to the windows and threw them wide, letting in the fresh air.
‘This is better than I had expected,’ said Darcy, as they wandered through the rooms, throwing windows open as they went. ‘It needs cleaning and the grounds need some attention, it needs furniture, too, but other than that I see no reason why it should not be let.’
Elizabeth thought of another letting, in another neighbourhood, just over a year ago, and remembered the excitement it had brought in its wake. Her mother had thought of nothing else for weeks! She wondered if there were any similar families in the mountains who might be as delirious at the thought of a new tenant at the lodge as her mother had been at the thought of a new tenant at Netherfield Park. She imagined them dressing in their finest and going—where? Not to the assembly rooms, for there were none nearby. To a private ball, perhaps.
When they had inspected the lodge from top to bottom Darcy, having seen what he wanted to see, suggested they return to the castle. They were just about to leave the lodge when they heard a commotion outside. Elizabeth’s first thought was that it was bandits, but the shouts quickly resolved themselves into friendly halloos and the sound of galloping hooves came to a halt just outside the drawing room window. Looking out, she saw some of the Count’s guests leaping from their saddles and, breathless and excited, heading towards the house.
They were dressed in simple woollen clothes, suitable for hard riding through the countryside, the women wearing serviceable riding habits and the men wearing rough coats and breeches with well-worn boots. They disappeared from view and then there was the sound of the front door being flung open and Gustav’s voice called, ‘The Count, he told us you were visiting the hunting lodge and so we thought you might like some company. We have brought a picnic.’
The room was suddenly full of people, their faces flushed with exercise, all laughing and talking at once.
‘What a morning we have had of it!’ said Gustav. ‘The best sort in many a long day. There is nothing to beat a bright autumn morning when the air is crisp and the blood is flowing with the thrill of the chase. We must persuade you to hunt with us tomorrow, Darcy, and Elizabeth, too.’
‘Elizabeth does not hunt,’ said Darcy sharply.
‘Then you must teach her. There is nothing like hunting for sharpening the senses and bringing them to life. Every sight, scent, and sound is magnified. To live without hunting is to be only half alive. Well, Elizabeth, what is it to be? Will you hunt with us tomorrow?’ asked Isabella.
‘No, I thank you, not I,’ said Elizabeth.
‘A pity. But perhaps we may persuade you yet,’ said Louis.
Carlotta, meanwhile, had unpacked the hamper, spreading the contents out on a rug in the window seat. There was cold chicken and ham, breads and cheeses, game birds and venison, and to go with the food, there were bottles of wine.
‘We have you to thank for this, Elizabeth,’ said Gustav as the plates were passed round. ‘Polidori has not invited us to the castle for years. I had forgotten how much fun it was to hunt hereabouts.’
‘You have not forgotten our agreement, I hope, and been killing things you shouldn’t,’ said Darcy.
‘Never fear, we have respected the Count’s property and your wishes. We hunt to live, not to make enemies of our neighbours.’
‘You must come here more often,’ said Frederique, lifting a leg of chicken to his mouth.
‘Yes, indeed, and bring your friends and family with you. Do you have any sisters as beautiful as yourself?’
‘Yes,’ said Elizabeth.
‘No,’ said Darcy at the same time.
‘I have four sisters,’ said Elizabeth.
‘But none of them as beautiful as yourself,’ said Darcy.
‘Naturally. How is it possible to match perfection?’ asked Louis with roguish gallantry. ‘But if they are not all as beautiful, they are at least numerous. Four sisters is a family indeed.’
‘Two of them are married,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Which means that two of them are not. I will have to visit England again