I woke up just as the sun was coming up and dressed swiftly. I took a book and set off out of the house. I hoped to find a quiet place somewhere on the estate where I could immerse myself in my reading and forget entirely about all of my worries. I wandered toward the usual trail that I walked and wandered about for a short while. The mist was heavy over the ground that day and it gave me slight chills to look out at the fields of Hunsford with the white swirling so very close to the ground. I could not see farther than perhaps ten yards in each direction. I wondered if I was going to be rained on, but I didn't mind the rain. If anything, I embraced it.
I walked along for quite some while before hearing some sort of rustling behind me. I looked about, but the maker of said noise was not to be seen. I wondered if it had been my imagination, but the noise was still approaching.
I panicked a bit, picking up my skirts in case I had provocation to run. I was not sure what exactly had spooked me from this noise; perhaps it was the swiftness in which it approached, or perhaps it was simply my haywire nerves. Ever since Mr. Darcy's arrival at Rosings, I was feeling on edge. I was sure I knew a great deal more about that cold man than he thought I did, or that he wanted me to.
But alas, that was not my problem at the moment.
The rustlings were getting progressively closer and I was becoming progressively more alarmed. I was encouraged to step backward as that seemed the safest direction to go. Perhaps, though, I should have been thinking more with my head rather than with my fear.
Something emerged from the mist ahead of me and I exclaimed mightily, tripping backwards over some root or rock, I didn't look to see. I closed my eyes briefly but something took me up beneath the arms before I hit the ground.
I opened my eyes first to see that it had been a mere fox darting across the path and into the fields of Hunsford. As soon as I knew this fact, I scrambled to my feet, turning back around to get a look at whatever had caught me. I knew better than to think it was a tree or bush; it had warmth to it. I straightened my skirt quickly before my gaze flew up to see the person.
My eyes widened significantly I am sure at his presence. "Mr. Darcy," I said, forgetting to curtsy and still standing in a rather unflattering way.
"Miss Elizabeth," he said, reaching out to take my arm. I pulled reflexively away, not being able to stop myself before I realized he was helping me. He looked slightly surprised but the look lasted just a moment. "Are you quite alright?"
"Only just quite," I replied indignantly. I did not need Mr. Darcy's help, nor did I wish for his company at the time.
"What, if I may ask, caused such a fright? I should hope it was not I," he said.
"Certainly not," I said. "You do not scare me, Mr. Darcy."
"You misunderstand my meaning if you think I meant to say that I hope I frighten you," said he. "I apologize for any misconstrued ideas, I only wish for your well-being," he said and waited for my reply, but I had none. Had he said he wished for my well-being? Was there possibly an ounce of compassion in this beast of a gentleman?
"It was only a fox, and although I appreciate your concern, I am perfectly fine."
"On the contrary," he said and I thought I glimpsed a smirk, "if a simple fox alarms you, I can hardly imagine what may become of you if you spend much more time in the forest," he said in a teasing manner.
"Mr. Darcy, I am surprised at you," I said, my attitude turning curious but still slightly offended toward him. "I daresay you have observed enough of me to realize that it was not merely the fox that alarmed me. I suppose if you were walking alone in the forest when you heard a disconcerting noise in the woods behind you, you might be slightly concerned as well," I said.
"You assume much about me."
"I assume that any educated person might be at least a small bit alarmed. It would take a very simple-minded person to ignore potential danger."
Darcy paused before answering, looking as if he was thinking carefully about his words. When he spoke again, however, he was not at all on topic. "Shall we walk?" he asked. "I assume that's what you were doing when I interrupted you," he said. I hid a smile from his no doubt unconscious use of the word 'assume'. He offered his arm and I took it, despite my general aversion to the man.
We walked silently in the direction I had been headed for quite some time. I found myself glancing up at him occasionally in an effort to detect his thoughts, but to no avail. He looked straight ahead, except when he glanced at the ground to be sure to keep from falling as I had earlier. I tried desperately to come up with some topic of conversation but that sent me into a fit of my own thoughts. If conversation was not readily available or flowing, I tended not to mind. It was not something I was necessarily afraid of which made me wonder why I was so desperate to come up with something to speak about. Was I nervous? I had told Darcy just moments ago that he did not scare me, but I was beginning to doubt that. Perhaps I was very much afraid of Mr. Darcy.
But why- how had he even come to be out here? I had not even heard him approach.
"Not to intrude, Mr. Darcy, but what is it that brings you to this part of Hunsford so early in the morning?" I asked.
Mr. Darcy looked down at me and his hard brow softened as we locked eyes. "The same as you, I believe," said he, rather saucily.
"Mr. Darcy," I cried, "how very impertinent you are this morning!"
"Impertinent? I prefer the term forward," he said, even more insolently. I wasn't sure if his impudence was exasperating or enjoyable.
I colored and turned back to look at the path, my face pointed more down to make sure he could not see my flush face. What an interesting character! Perhaps I had assumed too much about him. I suppose, if I was on better terms with him, he may even seem humorous.
"What book is it you have?" he asked after a moment.
I held the book up so he could see the cover. "Wordsworth's works," I said and stumbled a bit over the tongue twister. Mr. Darcy smiled as I looked up at him and chuckled a bit. I colored the smallest bit. "I'm sorry Mr. Darcy, I didn't realize you were a master of enunciation," I said and he took the book from my hand with confidence, looking at the cover.
"Wordsworth's works," he said and stumbled in nearly the same fashion as myself. For just that brief moment, I forgot any ill-born feelings I had toward him. I laughed and he looked at me with a smile, handing the book back to me.
"Perhaps that was deserved," he said.
"I might concur," I said, still with a smile on my face.
We stepped forward around a bend of trees and I realized we had circled the estate and were standing beside the house again. An audible 'oh' escaped my mouth and I immediately released Mr. Darcy's arm.
Charlotte stepped out of the house, waving at us from the porch and calling, "Dear Lizzy, we've been waiting for you!"
I turned to him and curtsied.
"Thank you for your company," I said.
He bowed. "I only apologize that you could not read your poems," said he. "I bid you good day." He walked off toward the road and I grabbed my skirts and hurried up to Charlotte.
"Was that Mr. Darcy?" she asked quietly; even though there was no way he could possibly hear.
I looked at him as he walked away and thought of the rather pleasant company he made.
"You know, I'm not quite sure it was," I said.
Charlotte looked quizzically at me, but I myself was not quite sure how to explain what had just happened.