Duty and Desire Read Online Free PDF Page B

miles beyond at as spanking a pace as the road would allow.
    “It will be good to be home, sir,” Fletcher offered as Darcy once again turned to the window, eager for the long-desired sight of his ancestral lands and home.
    “Mmm” was all he replied as the coach pulled into the lane and up to the imposing gates that were, even now, being flung open in welcome. Pemberley’s gatekeeper waved the team and coach through and, pausing to tug at his forelock, lifted a wide smile in greeting to the travelers before scurrying to close the wrought-iron barrier behind them.
    “Is that a sprig of holly in Samuel’s cap, Fletcher?” Darcy nodded appreciatively at his gatekeeper’s warm welcome.
    “I believe it is, sir. Yes, indisputably holly. Entirely appropriate, because of the season, sir.”
    “Ah, yes…the season.” Darcy fell silent once more, his attention wholly focused on their passage down the long drive. The private lane wove its unhurried way through the wood that girdled the outer reaches of the park. Designed a century ago under the aegis of Darcy’s great-grandfather, it required approaching visitors to slow their horses to a collected trot and then rewarded their patience with more than a few charming views of the secluded glades and tumbling streams that formed the natural beauty of Pemberley’s lands.
    The great trees bordering the lane were heavy-laden with snow, and in the late afternoon sun, they cast long, lavender shadows across the lane and into the wood beyond, enveloping the coach in a frosty stillness that defied the reality of its steady progress. Darcy opened the window and took a deep breath of the sharp air, savoring the familiar, tangy taste of it like a fine wine. They were almost there. The team quickened their gait, their excitement transmitting itself to the occupants of the coach moments before they broke free from the wood at the crest of the hill. Suddenly, all of Pemberley lay before them.
    The mellow walls of the west façade glowed rosily in the light of the setting sun, the corners cooling to violet as they glanced away from the fading glow. Despite that orb’s impending retreat, the windows of Pemberley seemed to gather the remaining fire. Themselves ablaze with reflected glory, they mirrored the red-gold rays out upon the surrounding snow, the effect immeasurably heightened by its twin reflected in the frozen pond below. Seeing it, Darcy felt his heart turn over and the weight of the past weeks lighten.
    They began their descent from the crest immediately. The horses, atremble with desire for home, broke into a canter from which no one in the coach wished to dissuade them. The pounding of their hooves beat at counterpoint to the creak of leather and wood and the rattle of glass as they reached the bottom of the hill. Rounding the last curve of the lane, they flung stones and mud about in a grand show of homecoming. As they reached the straight-laid approach to Pemberley Hall, Darcy could hear James calling to the leader while he worked the ribbons upon the team’s tender mouths. The horses slowed to a trot, then a fast, stiff-legged walk, and finally, a stroll that brought the coach to a gentle stop before the arched entrance of Pemberley’s enclosed courtyard.
    Grooms from the stable caught at the ribbons of the leader, welcoming the horses home with rough affection. A small army of footmen appeared to wrest the trunks from the coach’s boot while the butler himself opened the coach door.
    “Welcome home, Mr. Darcy! Welcome home, sir!” Reynolds’s voice shook slightly as Darcy climbed down from the coach.
    “Reynolds! It is good to be home…more than good.” Darcy smiled back at another of his people who had known him since boyhood and then looked up at the greenery that bedecked the archway into the courtyard. “You have received my instructions, I see.”
    “Yes, sir! We have made a beginning, but Miss Darcy wanted to consult with you more particularly before we