It was a dreary rainy day at Netherfield. Jane was still sick in bed, Bingley lay back in his seat playing with a pillow day dreaming about her, Darcy sat content to reading his book (however many times he read the same sentence over again), Caroline sat at the table shuffling and reshuffling a deck of cards, and Lizzie sat on the window bench staring out into the rainy courtyard. Caroline produced a frustrated sigh and then with an impish grin put down her cards and exclaimed,
"Shall we not play an enlivening game of some sort?" Darcy and Lizzie both glanced up at Caroline for a moment but then continued in their before engagements. Bingley was the only one to reply inquiring,
"What kind of game Caroline?"
"I believe this the perfect setting for a game of Sardines; we have more than enough places to hide." Bingley immediately thought it a wonderful idea and asked,
"Yes let's! Come Miss Elizabeth, will you not join us?" he said turning in her direction. She looked at him, then at Caroline and then replied,
"I imagine it would be more entertaining than just sitting around. Yes, I believe I'll join." Darcy glanced in her direction then thought how this game could profit or rebuke him if he played. If Caroline and he got alone together then that could be disastrous; her overwhelming desire to be near him was not hidden from his knowledge. But on the other hand if he and Miss Elizabeth were together…
"Darcy, come now we cannot have much fun with only three persons." Darcy agreed, on the condition that they limit the rooms in which to hide. Bingley concured knowing Elizabeth was not as accustomed to the house as they, and therefore suggested a few downstairs rooms and the two bed chambers up by the stair case.
"Shall we draw cards to see who will hide?" Bingley suggested to the general room. He then grabbed a deck and let Elizabeth pick the first one: a three. Caroline annoyingly grabbed the next card, praying that it was a two… an eight. Bingley picked a four then Darcy picked a King. Lizzie smiled and thought to herself isn't that appropriate.
"Alright Miss Elizabeth you'll be hiding first; you know the rules. We'll count to one hundred, one… two… three… four…" Mr. Bingley closed his eyes and shooed her away with his hand. She made her way to the hall and thought, there aren't many places to hide in the breakfast room, or the library for that matter. Ah, there are always nooks and cranys in the bedroom! She gently but quickly ran up the stairs and into the bedroom on the right. As soon as she entered she threw the door to and ran into the bathroom. The closet is perfect! No one will look for me here. She swiftly sat down in the middle and closed the door, leaving only a small crack to see through.
She sat there a moment, congratulating herself on what a well job she did in finding a spot, and then heard someone enter the bedroom. They were sturdy, far spaced steps so it could not be Miss Bingley, but which of the gentlemen was it? Lizzie craned her head so she could see through the crack but still could not, so she placed her hand on the floor next to her to support herself. As soon as it fell on the floor she felt a sharp pain shoot through her palm.
"Ah!" she yelled unconsciously, then clutched her injured hand, cursing inwardly for giving away her position. She soon heard the footsteps come in her direction then stop in front of the closet. They opened suddenly and to her shock and surprise, it was Mr. Darcy!
"There you are." He said with a small grin. She grinned half heartedly and replied,
"Here I am." He soon knelt down beside her, and then noticed her holding her now bleeding hand.
"May I see?" he asked and motioned towards her wound. Lizzie held out her hand and was a bit disconcerted when he softly cradled it with his own.
"I see you found my razors." He commented with a small smirk. He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a handkerchief.
"No, don't let me stain your kerchief." She put out her other hand to stop him. He looked at her affectionately for a moment then proceeded to place it on her cut and said,
"I insist." He wrapped his hand over her fingers and slowly pressed down till she was clutching the handkerchief in hers. He watched her face as he did so, waiting for any sign of discomfort; he found none. She looked up at him and felt her hands begin to shake. He noticed this, and wrapped both of his hands around hers trying to warm them.
"You're shivering, are you cold?" He asked her and looked at her with all concern. She smiled and brought her eyes down a moment, then bringing them up and answering,
"No, not at all." She marveled at how very blue his eyes looked at that moment. Surely she was not the cause of this, was she? She unconsciously shifted herself closer to him and they sat there a moment, transfixed in each other's gaze. Soon they heard someone else's footsteps come into the bedroom. Neither gave it any acknowledgement, but as soon as they heard the steps enter the bathroom Darcy took her face and fervently kissed her lips. She was stunned for a moment, but then felt herself melt into his lips and place her hand on his cheek.
After a moment they reluctantly broke apart, both feeling each other's breath upon their face. They opened their eyes and looked at each other, still holding their faces, not willing to let go. The steps stopped in front of the door, then a carrot-red mop of hair peeked through the crack in the door. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy both jolted from their position and put their hands in their laps trying to look inconspicuous.
"Found you." Said Bingley with a ridiculous grin on his face. Lizzie tried to fake a smile but found it excruciatingly difficult. Mr. Darcy simply looked down and did not try to engage in conversation. Bingley soon wriggled himself in between the two and just sat there a moment twiddling his thumbs.
"Did you do anything exciting while I was looking for you?" he blurted out. Darcy nearly choked on his own breath and Lizzie was thankful it was not light enough to see her enormous blush. Bingley hit Darcy on the back to stop his coughing then exclaimed,
"Calm down Darcy! It's not as if you actually did anything… right?" he looked at both of them but neither uttered a word. Bingley thought it was daft odd that they were so uneasy about it, but then dismissed the thought as he knew nothing could have possibly happened. Darcy is too much of a gentleman. He thought to himself.
Caroline finally heard something up in one of the bedrooms. It sounds as if Bingley's found her, drat! I'd better not be the loser… Caroline went and stormed up the stairs in her current train of thought. She soon heard some talking in the bathroom of Mr. Darcy's room. How conveniant should they be hiding in the tub. She mused then set off in that direction.
Bingley was about to laugh from excitement but Lizzie and Darcy both slapped her hands on his mouth to silence him. Coincidentally Darcy had planted his hand right on top of Lizzie's as they were both muzzling Bingley's absurd giggles. All they could do was tingle inwardly from the repeated contact and gaze at each other. Bingley was infinitely more curious now as to what happened while they were alone. He could feel a slight tremble in Elizabeth's hand as it pressed against his mouth and was exceedingly puzzled as to why.
Meanwhile as Caroline was going through Mr. Darcy's personal possesions, cologne, used towels, a cup of half-drinken coffee, she heard a muffled sound coming from the closet. Dissapointed that she had not the time to excrete a small trinket from his belongings, she went to the closet to investigate the noise.
Darcy slowly took his hand off of hers softly running his fingers over hers as he withdrew it. She herself let go of Mr. Bingley's mouth as he sat there, mouth agape looking at the both of them. The last thing either of them wanted happened, not a moment later: Caroline opened the door.
As soon as she opened the door she felt the blow that her plan had backfired on her.
"Oh." Was all she could utter. Bingley tried to ease some of the tension that was all too obviously apparent by declaring,
"You found us Caroline! Come, shall we not get dressed for supper? Surely it is long since been time for it. Come on Caroline, don't just stand there." He quickly got up and walked out of the bathroom dragging his dumbfounded sister along with him.
Mr. Darcy got up first then turned and offered his hand to Lizzie. She paused for a moment then took it as he brought her up gently. She stood there in front of him a while, still grasping his hand. He slowly brought her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly on her fingers.
"I hope your hand recovers fully." He said it hardly above a whisper, looking deep into her eyes as he did. She felt a blush creep up her neck to her cheeks. She curtsied slightly then released his hand and walked slowly to her and Jane's room to dress for dinner. He stood there transfixed for a minute, still gazing at the back of her beautiful swan-like neck. A small sigh escaped him as he shut the door to his closet.
Later that night as everyone was asleep Lizzie lay awake near Jane in bed, still clutching his handkerchief in her delicate hand. Finally she gave in and put on her shawl to go to the balcony on the back of the house. She clutched her little blanket close as she felt the cold chill of the night air. She leaned out over the balcony and melted into the wind blowing across her face and through her hair; it reminded her how she had melted into Mr. Darcy's kiss that afternoon. Why has that one moment perplexed me so much this night? There cannot possibly be feelings connected to it. Why do my emotions toy with me so?... She continued to think about the scenario, the game, if Mr. Bingley suspected anything, what Mr. Darcy -or Caroline for that matter- would think of her now. Soon her thoughts were interupted by the feeling of being watched. She whirled around only to see Mr. Darcy in similar attire, robe tied loosely, shirt wrinkled and opened enough to see his muscular upper chest, hair tousled about from turning on his pillow in a futile effort to sleep.
"Mr. Darcy!" she said in a loud whisper. He came a few steps closer and answered,
"Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you… I couldn't sleep." He fiddled with his hands nervously as she replied,
"Nor I." she crossed her arms over herself in a failed attempt to shield herself from the now stronger wind.
"Here," he said and took off his robe. "It's too cold to be out in only a shawl." He took a step closer and wrapped it around her shoulders. She unconsciously hugged it robe tighter about her, she felt more warmth from his remaining body heat than from the fabric itself.
"Miss Elizabeth," he said, not knowing how to begin. "I, I must apologize… for what has… happened, this afternoon." Why do you lie to her man? You don't want to apologize, you want to take her in your arms again and kiss her! His mind told him in mid-sentence. He looked at her longingly but could find no more words that could express in the least what he felt at that moment. She stepped nearer to him and slowly took the kerchief from her small, delicate hand. With her other she took his left hand and placed it in his.
"It is as much my fault as yours… it should not have happened, but it did." As she spoke she put her hand around his fingers and pressed them down onto the kerchief. He could not resist the physical contact and brought his other hand to her face and neck. Her eyes swelled with tears as she looked at him, his robe falling from her shoulders. She blinked on the verge of tears and shook her head. She ducked and ran back indoors and up the stairs to her room. He stood there, still looking at her leave, still feeling her warmth in his hand, still in pain from the tears he saw in her eyes. He slowly bent over to retrieve his robe, but didn't put it on; he didn't feel cold at that moment. Darcy opened his hand and looked at the handkerchief in his hand; he unfolded it and smiled sorely. He could've sworn the blood stain was in the shape of a heart.