We had a riotous night last night and I was just returning to my own room at seven o’clock this morning when I saw Darcy. He was up early and going out for a morning ride.
‘Join me,’ he said.
‘My dear fellow, I am in no state for a ride.’
He eyed me distastefully.
‘So I see. If you must drink, George, do it in better company. De Quincy has a bad reputation.’
‘Are you afraid he’ll lead me astray?’ I asked, laughing.
‘Yes, I am,’ he said seriously. ‘It’s easy to get into bad habits somewhere like this, where there is no regular life to drag you out of them.’
‘Good God, Darcy, you sound like my father!’ I said.
‘Will you come with me, George? The fresh air will do you good.’
For a moment I wavered. The thought of riding through the early morning countryside had a certain appeal. But my head hurt and in the end I declined. There will be time enough for riding in the holidays when I am back at Pemberley. I mean to enjoy myself whilst I am at Cambridge.