Fear and dread filled her dreams that night. She was running along the Rosing's path to the temple, as Darcy called out accusations of her family's impropriety. Past scenes of their interactions flashed before her with far more clarity. But, these were all overshadowed by colossal tree falling toward her, as she tried with all her might to run away. For the last fleeting second before she was smashed by the tree, she could see Jane, and reached out and wrapped her arms around Jane to protect her from the impact.
Elizabeth jolted awake from the impact, and took in a stifled deep breath through the thick musk scent of her mattress. Gaining clarity of her present position, due to the seething pain in her back, she realized she was not laying down. Feeling warmth on her bare hand, the kind of warmth she knew from sharing a bed with her sister, she pursed her lips and squinted her eyes, praying that it was only Jane, and that she was back at home. But she was a sensible girl, and had no idea why she thought Jane was there. Taking in a breath, she summed up the strength to open her eyes and look up. There she found herself nearly face to face with Mr. Darcy. Her breath left her in shock, which probably was for the best, seeing she may have roused him if she uttered a sound. Slowly she tried to free her arms from around him. But, his arms lay heavy on her delicate limbs, and did not budge. On further analysis of her other options, she became keenly aware that the cold stone roof was not beneath her. Again her breath left her, now from the absolute mortification that not only was she in the embrace of Mr. Darcy, but she was sitting on his lap too! In her head a loud ringing sounded, and she uttered a low whimper. She scoffed at her mother's "ailing nerves" her entire life, but now she gave them some merit.
She bit at her lower lip, and looked up a Darcy. Every fiber of her being made her want to be anywhere but here, and she knew not why she focused on him. Perhaps he would feel her gaze and wake. She knew from past experience, when she had done the same to Jane it worked. But her gaze of intent shifted, and turned into one of interest. This Darcy before her was not the one she had seen looming along the sides of the dance floor, nor was it the man who accused her family of heinous social impropriety. No, his expression was soft, calm, and she could even see evidence of smile lines. Did Mr. Darcy smile? But this inquiry was stopped short with Darcy's thick lashed eyes twitch and open, and make direct contact with her own.
For a moment they were silent. Elizabeth was compounding her utter horror of their position in her mind, and Darcy was making attempts on distinguishing her being in his arms as a dream or not. Shifting her weight Elizabeth found herself on a uneven hard point, and cocked her head in wonder. Darcy's eyes grew wide, in affirmation this was not a dream, and that he needed to get space immediately.
Without permission, he gently lifted her up off to the side, and pulled himself up to stand, with his back to her. She thought this odd, but when she brought her arms down, she felt her damp sleeve touch the exposed skin of her side. Lifting her arm in horror, she found her corset had dropped, and that her chemise was only held on by the right strap. Standing to organize her layers, she attempted to adjust her chemise. But with one little tug the strap gave way, and fell to her feet, taking the corset with it. She let out a low squeak of embarrassment with this, to which Darcy looked over his shoulder in wonder. Seeing her half squatting over her undergarments, his eyes went wide in shock, and he immediately covered his eyes with his hands and stepped off to the other side of the roof.
Elizabeth brought her hands up to her brow and looked up to the sky. Was she set on the path of one mortifying circumstance after another? She cursed under her breath, as she collected her undergarments and balled them up. For a moment she wondered if she should keep them, perhaps to build a fire? Looking off around the side she could see Darcy standing very still. His eyes were fixed on something. Balling her garments up, she walked around to see what he was so interested in.
Walking up to his side, she spotted a cart that had crashed into the side of the roof. Amidst the rubble there was a man mangled from bits of cart and debris. The man's head bobbed up and down with the current, as pieces of the cart slowly separated, and continued on their path down the hill.
"Is he dead?" Elizabeth questioned as she stepped back in horror.
Darcy looked to her with concern. This was definitely something a lady should not see. More focused on her face, he did not realize she was dangerously close to the edge, till he heard the distinct slip of her leather sole. He lunged forward, and grabbed her arm as she was about to fall, and pulled her toward him. Her body swayed, and for a moment she felt as though she would faint. She gripped at his vest, and remained still for a moment.
"I am sorry you saw that Miss Elizabeth. I should have warned you." Darcy uttered in a low voice. He too was still recovering from the shocking sight himself.
Before she knew it, Elizabeth began to cry. This was all too much for her. "No… Darcy. It's just… I-." She could not finish due to her bursting into tears.
Darcy, still holding her in his arms, remained still as she leaned into him, and buried her face in her hands. Awkwardly he held his shoulders up, not letting his hands go past her upper back. He felt her body shudder, as she struggled to breath as she wept. Joining her tears that fell on his boots, a light rain started up, which made her cry even more.
Eventually he was able to coax her to take refuge back on the opposite side of the roof. The water rose again, but still allowed them to sit. Elizabeth leaned against the stone carved window, and looked down into the inner temple. Water crashed up against the walls, and out through the arched passage. What little bit of sunlight that came through the most recent lull in the storm, warmed her neck. Gripping the bottom of the domes edge, the sun danced through the gems of Darcy's ring. Looking it over she did not know how to feel about it.
Off to the side Darcy was draping his damp coat out to dry. It had been nearly two hours of rain. But at least the water did not rise. Looking over to Elizabeth he found her attention fixed on his mother's ring. He took in a breath of disappointment with this scene. He wanted none of this, and with every passing hour of them not uttering a word to one another his heart strained. He had felt nothing but regret, and embarrassment for what he had said to her yesterday. During the many moments of silence, as they sat close under his coat, his mind was consumed with analyzing his transgressions. Re-assuming his post opposite to her, he sat down, and leaned against the wall.
Though his mind was filled with regret, one thing prevented him from speaking it. It was her account of Wickham. His eyes squinted in disdain at the thought of Wickham. This very look unbeknownst to him, Elizabeth caught, and interpreted as something else.
"Are you well Mr. Darcy?"
"Miss Elizabeth. May I share with you my account of Mr. Wickham." He began without thinking.
Her brow raised at this, and she sat forward. "You may."
Elizabeth remained in this position, leaning in even more toward him, completely invested in his every word. So many things that she thought to be true were being negated, and previous affections for the man called George Wickham became stained, and a wicked grin was painted on his visage in her mind. She shed some tears as well, not for Wickham, but for Georgina. She knew all too well as a older sister herself, how traumatic this must have been.
Once he completed his story she wiped her tears with her sleeve. "Forgive me Mr. Darcy."
"There is nothing to forgive. I should have made Mr. Wickham's treachery known. But I just did not-."
"No. You did the right thing. I know I would not want society knowing about something so heinous happening to one of my sisters."
He weakly smiled at this. He marveled at her kindness, and her like minded view on the situation. But quickly this smile fell when remembering what he had said to her the day prior. "Miss Elizabeth. Please allow me to apologize for what I said."
She looked at him perplexed, still fully engrossed in his sister's ordeal.
"It was wrong of me to denigrate you, and your family. It was a cruel, and a truly unforgivable offense."
Elizabeth bit at her lower lip in thought over this, and took in a deep breath. "You were not completely wrong Sir."
He looked at her with question at this.
"My younger sisters, my mother, and even my father are guilty of making a spectacle of themselves. And even myself. Why with what I said to you-." She brought her hands up to her mouth and looked away in shame.
"You need not apologize madam. Your response was a direct result of my egregious behavior. In fact, upon our rescue, you have no need to even think of me beyond this."
She felt a sudden jolt within her heart at this. His statement resonated with nothing but someone who felt absolutely defeated.
"Mr. Darcy… You need not-." She began, but a large bolt of lightning struck the tall tree directly in front of them.
Quickly they scrambled back to the wall of the dome, and scrunched down. Immediately heavy rain began to fall, followed by a hailstorm. Darcy quickly retrieved his coat, and used it to shield them from the barrage of ice. Holding the coat over them with one arm, he used his other to pull her in closer and shield her.
Elizabeth was too scared to care of their proximity. Between the deafening booms of thunder, and the constant cracks of hail, Darcy's embrace was a much needed comfort.
