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Chapter Two
The day after Easter, Mr. Darcy called on the Parsonage.
Alone.
This would be strange enough, but the others were out. I was left to bear his awkward silences by myself. I attempted to extract information out of him regarding Mr. Bingley and any chance of him returning to Hertfordshire, but Darcy answered neutrally.
Refusing to come up with anything else to say, I gave him the burden. Surprisingly, he complimented the Parsonage, and then Charlotte. Well, specifically in her role as a wife. Amazingly, he managed to continue this conversation. Calling fifty miles as near Meryton, however, provoked me.
"It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire," said Darcy. "Anything beyond the very neighborhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far."
So that's what he thought of me? Or rather, by the smirk he wore, what he thought of Jane.
"I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family."
If Jane married Bingley, they might do better if they settled some distance from our estate, no matter Mama's wails.
Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards me, and said, "You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have always been at Longbourn."
Although surprised by his manner, he had been partially correct. "I did spend considerable time with my aunt and uncle in London when I was younger."
"I knew it!" He grinned.
Oh heavens. I had never seen him really smile before. He would sometimes smirk but never really allow his lips to curve let alone show his teeth. I watched him closely.
"You are looking at me oddly. Is something amiss?"
"No," I laugh. "I only wondered if your face might crack as I had never seen you smile before. I believe you might be out of practice with that as well."
"I am," he agreed and again drew closer.
Curses upon his valet and the infernal mixture of his scent. It clouded my head. Taking shallow breaths, I look at his eyes to gauge if he is offended. The sky blue orbs watch me intently, and though the smile left his face, I can see it in his eyes. Why had I never noticed how handsome he is? A girl could genuinely lose her wits around him.
I take in his fine clothes, fitted perfectly on his well-built frame. Tall and broad, he was slightly tanned from outdoor pursuits while most London men were sickly white. He was no dandy, his clothes allowed him to move as a young, virile man ought. His buckskin breeches clung to muscular legs. There was no padding on him.
"Are you pleased with Kent?" Mr. Darcy asked.
His voice was quiet, but the low rumble jolted through my body all the same.
"Very," I answer with a shaking voice. I gently clear it and try again. "I am very pleased with Kent."
"I am glad," he said. "Do you think you will like it as much on a second visit?"
"I am unsure when that will be," I said in confusion.
"There is much more to Kent than Hunsford and Rosings."
I sigh. He is so rich. Does he not know this travel is a luxury for me? "I would certainly love to see the sea one day. I often travel with my London relations in the summer. Perhaps they will visit Margate or Ramsgate someday."
"Ramsgate," Darcy grew white. "No, I would not suggest that resort."
"I will be sure to pass your recommendation on." I twist my hands, unsure why my statement upset Mr. Darcy. I grasp for something to say. "This year, they intend to journey the Lake District." Unable to resist smiling, I add, "I will go with them."
"Excellent! You will love the sights. The wildness of it all suits you."
My smile falters. "My wildness?"
Evidently alarmed by my tone and dark look, he stumbles to clarify. "No, not that you are wild. I meant that I know you will appreciate nature in its original state without the false ornamentation you see everywhere else. Rosings' manicured lawns are nothing compared to the raw beauty of the Lake District."
I begin to smile at his effort and enthusiasm. I thought he said something else in a de sotto voice covered by the sound of Charlotte and Maria returning. My vivid imagination believed it to be, "like you," but I know that was only my vanity. Upon the entrance of the other ladies, Darcy stood, stumbled out an excuse, and fled.
For the first time, I watched him leave with regret. It took quite some coaxing, but once we had settled on a topic he found comfortable, I realized I spoke with him with more ease than I do anyone else. Last night, the Colonel talked with me about music and books. However, it was a thinly veiled vanity exercise for us both as we attempted to best and impress the other. There was no real discussion, no exchange of ideas.
As Charlotte watched Mr. Darcy walk up the lane of her house to Rosings, she marveled, "Eliza, he must be in love with you!"
"If he is in love with me then I must strike him dumb! Can you be made mute from love as you can be made blind?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Charlotte laughed.
"As usual, Mr. Darcy was silent far more than he ever spoke."
Charlotte's brow furrowed. "Why else would he call?"
"Would you wish to spend all your time in Rosings?" I asked and pulled out some paper. I had letters to write.
"I suppose not."
In the following week, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam called upon us daily. Sometimes separately, sometimes together, and every once in awhile accompanied by their aunt. The Colonel clearly enjoyed the exercise, but Darcy always had little to say.
Little to say in a drawing room, that is. More than once, I encountered Darcy on the paths around Rosings. I even attempted to warn him away from my favorite route and yet he showed up again. I had not thought it so strange until a third encounter.
The day was beautiful, with the sun shining high and no clouds in the sky. The song of birds and a light push of wind beckoned me to run. I sprinted down one path, and a dog leaped from a hedge. His eyes alighted on me, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling outside his mouth. Enjoying the game he thought I played, he ran alongside me.
"What a good boy!" I exclaimed looking over him.
He barked happily and increased his speed just a bit, goading me forward. I caught up. "There you see, I am not a great walker but am a great runner," I said between breathless pants.
Suddenly I ran into a wall in the middle of the path. Just before the world went dark, I wondered how it got there and why it had arms. "Oof!" I cried and fell forward.
I awoke to tender strokes on my back and a gentle voice. "You will be well, Elizabeth. Everything will be well. Just wake up."
Feeling groggy, I lifted my head. I saw two very fuzzy looking Mr. Darcys. Oh, that could not be good at all. Surely there was only one. Could the world even contain two? I giggled at the thought.
"Elizabeth? How are you feeling?" Their blue eyes peered up at me.
"There are two," I said and poked at the twin Darcys but only felt the air.
"I think you should lie down," he said.
"Very well," and I laid my head back down.
My head was not on anything as soft as a pillow and beneath my ear beat what sounded like a heart. I nuzzled closer, the sensations and heady scent overpowering me.
"He always smells so good," I muttered.
The beating sound under my ear kicked up for a moment but so did the wind. With it, my consciousness cleared some. I jerked up, but arms quickly encircled me and held me down.
"Slowly this time. You do not want to grow dizzy again," Mr. Darcy's voice whispered in my ear.
Obediently, I lifted my head. "What happened?"
"You were running. I came out from the path just a few feet away. We did not see one another and collided."
"And why do I feel so strange?" I ask although I know more than half of it has to do with his close proximity.
"You may have a concussion, but hopefully it was only the wind that was knocked out of you. Can you move?"
Knowing better than to nod my head, I slowly rise up more by propping my hands on Darcy's chest. Slowly, I make it all the way to a sitting position.
"Where is the dog?" I asked glancing around for signs of it.
"Hades is well. He ran off for a treat no doubt."
I laugh. "He distracted me! Quite earned his name!"
"Not for the first time," Darcy said with a chuckle.
Hoping to see his brilliant smile again, I glance down and see dirt matting his hair and a bruise to his chin. "You are injured!"
"I regret more that you are. Does your head hurt?"
I run my fingers over my hair and wince at the bump forming under a small area. "It is not so bad, and at least it can be hidden by my hair." Hair, which I realize is tumbled all around my shoulders.
"It is lovely," Darcy says in a gravelly voice and slowly reaches for a curl. "So soft," he murmurs.
Something pokes underneath me, and I jump at the unexpected sensation. I had thought it was a stick, but it seemed to be growing. Mr. Darcy moaned and squeezed his eyes shut.
"You are hurt," I said. "Shall I get help?"
"Elizabeth, the last thing we need is for people to know about this."
"What do you mean?"
"I was letting your senses clear but do you notice your surroundings yet?"
"The woods?" I glanced around. "The path." My eyes scanned over Darcy. "You."
Suddenly I realized I was sitting on him. "You!"
I scramble to get off his body, my heart pounding in my chest and I press my hand on it to keep it from exploding. If anyone had seen us my reputation would be destroyed, and I would be bound to Darcy for life.
"Forgive me," I say in a shaky voice. "I did not mean… I would never…"
I cannot even finish the sentence, but I need him to know that I would never behave in such a way. I would never seduce a man or entrap one.
"You are not to blame," Darcy said as he got to his feet. "I ought to have told you earlier."
Yes, why hadn't he?
"Can you stand?" he asked me and offered a hand.
With his assistance, I was able to stand although I still felt a little dizzy. Darcy insisted on escorting me back to the Parsonage. Knowing that Charlotte and Maria were in, I made him agree to leave me before we came in view of the house.
"Your face is bruising," I said and gently held his head in my hand, turning his chin to examine it. "Does it pain you?" I ask and touch it.
"No," Darcy said, his eyes the intense blue I recalled from other times.
"Take care, sir. Please see to it as soon as you return to Rosings. I would not want Lady Catherine to blame me for disfiguring her nephew."
Darcy smiled at my jest but did not laugh.
"Be well, Elizabeth," he said and gathered my hand from his chin then kissed my fingers. Giving me a soft smile and a slight bow, he turned his back.
Shaking my head ever so slightly, I continued to the Parsonage.
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