Page 7

3rd December 1812, Tuesday

George groaned as he pulled on his red coat, a frown pulling at his face as he fingered the place where the buttons had come off in his haste.

He turned back to where his lady of choice was doing her best to dress herself.

It had been a long and tedious night of inane conversation and forced smiles at the Longs’ card party before he had been able to ply a woman with enough spirit to convince her to meet him at the back garden.

Miss Lyla or Lea or whatever would not have been his first choice for company, but she had always been the easiest.

she had also had the added enticement of being a Bennet-

“Say,” He called the girl, “Your sister Miss Elizabeth, I did not see her tonight at the party.”

And he had not.

Which had been a shame, because since the moment he had seen her, Miss Elizabeth had become his first choice in this little village full of ladies.

She was unlike any other woman he had encountered.

Indeed, she might not be the prettiest woman he had ever seen, nor did she possess a full figure as he usually preferred.

But, there was a certain confidence in her manner, a fire and vitality in her eyes that he longed to see directed at him in her most passionate moments.

And while from the intelligence in her gaze she might not look naive, it was clear from how quickly she had believed his sob story that she would’ve been an easy target.

“Lizzy?” The girl asked, narrowing her eyes a little, “Why are you asking about her? ”

There was a sort of petulance in her tone that grated on Wickham’s nerves.

That was the problem with these green little young ladies.

They might be fresh for the taking, but they were also nothing better than children- always whiny and jealous.

“I was just curious. She was the only one of your sisters not present, was not she?” She had also acted very peculiarly when they’d met a few days ago in front of the tailor’s shop.

If George did not know better, he would have labelled her attitude hostile.

But no- she had been eating out his hand just last week, and the only person in this side of the country who could turn her against him, she hated.

Miss Lea (Lily?

) was still frowning at him, “She stayed behind with our father today. I do not understand why. Kitty and I told her very specifically that aunty Phillips will be inviting the officers.” She gave him a look over her shoulder before turning around, her dress now buttoned, “Maybe she is not interested in you anymore.”

George rolled his eyes, but did not answer her,

“It won’t be the first time, you know.” The girl continued, “Lizzy always takes interest when new people come into Meryton, but it never lasts long. Take Mr Darcy for example. Lizzy found him ever so handsome when she first saw him, but then he said something rude and did not dance with anyone except for the ladies in his own party and so Lizzy lost interest in him.”

Being compared to Darcy grated on him.

That he was being compared in terms of charm and amiability- on the ability to hold a lady’s interest irritated him even more.

Still, he did not reply, just closed his jacket as well as he could without the missing buttons and turned around to walk away ,

“George!” The girl ran after him, looping her hand around his arm and pressing her bosom against his sleeve, “Dear, dear George, you really are not upset are you? You need not be. Mama always says I’m much prettier than Lizzy.”

Wickham looked down at her- it really was not an unfortunate face, not plain but not especially pretty.

It seemed to be common knowledge in Meryton that the eldest two Bennets had inherited all the beauty in the family.

The jewels of the county, they were called.

And though the eldest Miss Bennet was more a classical beauty, her second seemed to possess all the charm and wit, making her infinitely more attractive to many.

The youngest two Bennets, while not particularly blessed in the department of appearances, were lively and loose enough with their affections to make up for it.

Mostly.

Wickham was still planning on earning the favour of Miss Elizabeth.

But, until that time, this girl, (Lillian?

Lara?

) would serve a passable distraction.

─── ※ ·?· ※ ───

“You need to go to London?”

Charles nodded, his expression unnaturally solemn as he looked at Darcy.

The gentlemen had stolen into Bingley’s study trying to avoid his sisters who seemed bent on complaining about the country life given half the opportunity.

Hostess or not, Darcy was getting tired of their behaviour and even more irritated at Miss Bingley’s biting remarks about the ‘conceitedly independent’ Eliza Bennet.

Imagining her reaction when she would have to address her most hated nemesis as ‘Mrs Darcy’ seemed to be one of his very few means of amusement some days.

Another means of delight being his morning walks- where he would ever so naturally encounter Miss Elizabeth somewhere between Netherfield and Longbourn.

He was quite sure that by this point, he had reversed her opinion of him enough that she did not hate him anymore.

She never seemed averse to his company on her rambles.

In fact, quite a few times, he had seen her hide a smile underneath the shade of her bonnet .

But, was it indifference that he had achieved?

Or affection?

“Darcy? Are you listening to me, Darcy?”

Darcy jerked, turned to Bingley who was looking at him worriedly, “Forgive me. I was not attending."

“Are you alright? You’ve been ‘not attending’ quite a lot these past few days.”

“Yes, yes I am quite well. Why do you need to go to London?”

Bingley sighed, “My solicitor sent me a letter a week or so ago. Some of the investments I made last year lost me quite a few hundred pounds. I wrote him back to dissolve my shares in them but he insists it’s a matter that needs to be handled personally.”

Darcy frowned, but could not disagree. It was one thing for Charles to learn to manage his own estate, but he could not let himself get so consumed in the matters of land ownership only to lose his money somewhere else.

“How long do you think you will be?”

“A few days. A week at the most.” Charles said, “I would like you to come with me.”

Darcy frowned, felt something drop in his stomach, “Why?” a few days away from Miss Elizabeth? A week? What if all his progress fell apart in that time? What if she forgot him?

“You’ve been increasing your wealth with investments for years now. You are much more knowledgeable than I. I could really use your help, Darcy. ”

Darcy sighed, cursed Bingley and his dependence when it came to matters of business, then cursed himself for being so unkind to a friend who has always been willing to help him in his own areas of weakness.

“Of course I will come with you. When do you plan to leave?”

“Tomorrow, first thing in the morning. I want to finish this business as quick as I can.”

Darcy raised a brow, “Will this be my definition of first thing in the morning or yours?”

Bingley gave him a sheepish smile, “Mine. I’m afraid all these weeks and I am still not quite used to country hours.”

Which was just as well for Darcy. Perhaps, he could fit in an early morning ride tomorrow. He might encounter Elizabeth again somewhere near Longbourn and he would be able to give her an explanation for his leaving the country whether she would want it or not.

“Your sister will want to come with you.” Darcy told him, “She is barely tolerating the country as it is. With both of us to Town, what is stopping her from following?”

Bingley frowned, “Caroline might not like the country, but she does take her duties as a hostess seriously. I do not think we will have to worry about her abandoning Netherfield on a whim.”

Darcy did not quite agree with that assessment, but did not say so. It was true that this trip to London was crucial. And less than tying Miss Bingley onto one of the many support beams in the manor, they could do nothing more than trust in her integrity as mistress of the estate .

Darcy sighed, got up from the wingback he had been reclining against, “Very well, then. I will have my man pack my bags. After that, I have letters to write if I am to be in town for a few days. I will see you at dinner.”

Bingley nodded as he watched his friend leave. There was something different about Darcy. Bingley had thought his friend would be amicable to a trip to town, if not downright excited to leave the country. But, Darcy had seemed almost disappointed instead. Almost as disappointed as Charles himself felt at the thought of leaving his angel behind. It was the most curious thing.

4th December 1812, Wednesday

Elizabeth would only ever admit to the very darkest recesses of her mind but her morning rambles in the past few days had gotten much more enjoyable than before.

There was something to be said about handsome, intelligent company. It was not often that Elizabeth was ever accompanied by another person on her long walks. Most ladies in the neighbourhood found the idea of roaming around tedious when they could be sitting at home and doing something productive instead- like sewing or painting or playing the pianoforte. And when Lizzy did manage to convince a friend or sister to walk with her, none ever managed to keep up with her pace. Elizabeth herself had never minded before. In fact, she had very much enjoyed the solitude that the grounds of Longbourn and Netherfield provided her when otherwise her life was filled with social calls and boisterous younger sisters.

But, Mr Darcy’s company was different than she had ever experienced. Her heart seemed to excite and calm simultaneously at the sight of him. And while the man could sometimes be a bit too stoic in public, when she encountered him in the mornings, it was a different personality that greeted her- more open and less reserved. He could still not be called charming in any way, but the man did possess the driest of humours that had her bursting into laughter at the most unexpected of times.

She had not realised when it had happened, but somewhere in the hours that they had spent walking to and fro the multitude of trails that led nowhere in particular, they had become friends.

She looked forward to encountering him again that morning- the weather was getting colder, and soon snowfall would confine her to the house. But until then, Elizabeth donned on her favourite and thickest coat- not a pelisse no, but her late grandfather’s thick winter coat that hung on her frame. It was not the most fashionable of choices surely, but it was the most comfortable and the warmest. When her father had seen her take it out of the attic last year to use for the coming winter, he had had tears in his eyes even as he had laughed at the picture she had made,

“You were a favourite of his, Lizzy.” He had said after Mrs Bennet had told her off for bringing out that dusty old thing from the attic, “Don’t mind your mother. He would have loved for you to have it.”

Lizzy tightened the greatcoat around her now as another cold breeze blew against her. Her cheeks and nose were ice-cold, and in terms of their redness, she could guess she bore a passing resemblance to one of those terrifying garden gnomes Mrs Goulding kept on her porch.

She hummed a tune as she walked, Mary had been playing the pianoforte for hours yesterday, and though the melody itself was quite morose, it had gotten stuck in Elizabeth’s head. She skipped along the walking trail, jumping over the larger tree roots and deliberately crushing the dried leaves under her feet. It was not until she was nearing Oakham Mount that she heard the hooves of a horse coming from the opposite direction .

Elizabeth grinned widely, then tempered her smile before turning around- just as she had hoped, it was Mr Darcy’s stallion trotting towards her, the rider himself greeting her with a rare smile. She curtsied as he dismounted, then said in a teasing manner,

“My, what a coincidence it is, Mr Darcy, to meet you here of all places.” She said in a mock affected manner, “Were you aware, sir, this happens to be one of my favourite routes for my morning rambles.”

Darcy chuckled as he walked over to her, “Not at all, Miss Elizabeth. I can assure you, meeting you here was nothing more than a stroke of serendipity.”

It was a blatant lie, of course. They had discussed Elizabeth’s walking habits quite extensively in the past days- her favourite trails, spots, her usual time of waking up and leaving the house. Never had they actually planned an outing together, but it was understood that they would encounter each other anyway.

Truly, they were skirting the lines of propriety with their behaviour. And yet, Elizabeth found herself not caring. Mr Darcy was a good man. An honourable man. And neither of them behaved in any way untoward during these meetings. Darcy joined her naturally as she started the steep climb up to the peak of the mount, keeping pace with her easily as they conversed on a variety of topics. They watched the sunrise quietly, standing next to each other across from the most scenic viewpoint in all of Hertfordshire and Elizabeth sighed, feeling content.

“I am leaving for town today.” Mr Darcy said to her, breaking the silence and her peace with his words.

She frowned, “Again? ”

He nodded, “Bingley received a letter yesterday from his solicitor. He wants me with him while he conducts some business.” Darcy turned his head to look at her, and felt gratified when he saw the frown on her face, “It will just be for a few days. A week at the most.”

He wondered what she was thinking with her head down. Her bonnet covered her face and Darcy was left staring at weaved flaxen straw and jade coloured ribbons. He wondered if she would miss him- if she would even realise his absence.

You are so small, He thought to say, I carry you so easily in my heart. But, I am afraid I do not live in yours.

She looked up at him, chewed at her bottom lip for a moment, “The Gouldings are planning on throwing a dance next week. It’s their middle daughter Alice’s birthday and her coming out. All neighbourhood families will be invited.”

He gave her a half smile, though it was the brightness of his eyes that truly spoke of his pleasure, “Will you be attending, Miss Elizabeth?”

“I do every year.” Elizabeth shrugged.

“Then, before anyone else has the honour, may I have the pleasure to dance the first set with you?”

This time, when Elizabeth grinned, her smile was untempered and glorious. The curls that framed her face bounced becomingly as she nodded,

“I would like that very much, Mr Darcy. ”