Page 35 of I Thee Wed (Pride And Prejudice Variation #2)

The next morning, Elizabeth sat on a wooden bench with a small basket on her lap, eating buttered toast and a hard-boiled egg. Mr. Darcy, seeing her from a distance, turned aside and came to join her.

“Miss Elizabeth, I find you intent upon your breakfast rather than your verse.”

She smiled. “Breakfast at the parsonage is not served until ten because Mr. Collins works on his sermon each morning, and only then is he at leisure to eat. I am always hungry much earlier, so I bring along a food basket to sustain me until I can enjoy a heartier meal. Would you care for a boiled egg and toast, sir?”

He seated himself beside her. “Yes, I should be most obliged.” He took the egg, and while he shelled it, she buttered a piece of toast for him. They ate in silence until he asked for another, this time with marmalade. As she spread it, he asked, “And my poem, Miss Bennet? Did you bring it?”

Amused, she said, “Yes, it is in my reticule.”

When they had finished, she handed him a wet cloth with which to cleanse his hands, before using it herself and packing away the basket. At last, she drew a folded sheet of paper from her reticule and offered it to him. He placed it carefully in his breast pocket.

“Where were you walking to?” he asked.

“I spend time every morning in the folly, working on my verses.”

“Then let us go.” He offered his arm, and she accepted.

They walked in silence until they reached the little stone folly on its bluff. Darcy looked at her with interest. “Will you read one of your poems for me?”

She hesitated, then chose one.

The Mermaid

Upon a rocky shore where foam and sunlight meet,

A maiden sang, a haunting, dreaming sigh;

Her shining hair gleamed in the summer heat,

Her eyes as deep and restless as the stormy sky.

A mortal man climbed up from sun-kissed sand,

Drawn by her song, and marveled at her grace:

“O, that you had feet to walk the land,

To dwell with me beyond this lonely place.”

She smiled and pointed to the waves below:

“My home lies deep, where coral gardens grow;

Yet I will come, if you would have it so,

And give my days to speak with you above.”

He came each dawn, and by her side he dreamed;

They spoke of lives together yet untried,

Of hearth and field where golden sunlight streamed,

And tender vows no sea could ever divide.

But mortal hearts are frail, and vows grow dim;

One dawn she waited, but he came no more.

Her heart grew heavy waiting through the years,

Her tears now mingled with the ocean’s roar.

“Farewell,” she whispered, sinking to the deep,

“Your world is earth, and mine the boundless sea;

No mortal troth is mine to hold or keep

No tide shall bear me back again to thee.”

Long years passed, until he roamed once more

To where first he found her singing on the stone.

He saw her rise, as fair and lovely as before,

She was changeless, but he could not atone.

She turned away and would not meet his eye,

Her heart grown wise through all the silent years.

Then vanished down the paths beneath the sea,

And left him alone with only memory.

Elizabeth closed the journal and looked up. Darcy had turned away; he was looking at the valley below. At length, he said quietly, “I must go, or I shall be late for breakfast. Lady Catherine expects me.”

Elizabeth inclined her head. He bowed and departed, leaving her thoughtful and unsettled. She watched him until the path curved out of sight, then returned to her journal. He is not of my sphere, she reminded herself. I must not think of him.