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SUMMARY: Elizabeth Gardiner is a young woman who is at the point in her life where everything can change. Elizabeth has her father hoping for a marriage match. Mr Wickham who is a dear friend who feels more for her than she for him. And she has met a charming Mr Darcy who challenges everything about her. What will happen during her summer in the country? Will love reveal itself or will Elizabeth have to make decisions that will change her life forever?

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CHAPTER TWO

MR DARCY'S POV

What was there to do in the country? A constant thought that ran through Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy's head on many occasions. He had somehow allowed his close friend, Mr Bingley, to talk him into accompanying him to his new residence. It just happened to be in the country. And there was nothing wrong with the country, Mr Darcy loved the country. He had grown up Derbyshire, and his family owned half of it, and he loved it. It was home. He believed it more to be the fact that they were in Hertfordshire, a place that Mr Darcy had never had any pleasant experiences in. And his current experiences wasn't helping anything at all.

So far he had not met a single person he could believe he could become well acquainted with. And not because almost all of the people he had met were below his stature, but because not a single one of them could hold a simple conversation. Most mothers were throwing their daughters at him. Most of the fathers were pleading for him to forgive their wives for their behaviour. The single men were too busy admiring the young woman and planning ways for them to get a dance. Caroline Bingley, Mr Bingley' elder sister, was the only person he could have a conversation with – besides Mr Bingley himself – and Mr Darcy couldn't stand the woman for she was much like those mothers. She constantly threw herself at him.

Mr Bingley had somehow gotten it into his head that Netherfield Park, the beautiful home he had acquired, was the perfect home for him and one day a family. Caroline had, one too many times, told her brother of her distaste for the country, for its people and for his new home. Mr Bingley had responded that she was more than welcome to leave and rent a home in London. She of course rejected the idea. Both Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy knew that it was because she wanted to be around Mr Darcy.

Mr Darcy had found a few things to busy himself with on his stay, he had already been a guest of Mr Bingley' for a month and business was piling up. He had been able to deal with everything through letter correspondence so far but he knew soon he would need to return home to attend to some things. He also missed his sister.

He sat at a desk in an office that Mr Bingley had lent for the duration of his staying writing. He had already completed four letters of business and was writing a rather long response to his sister's last letter. She asked if it were possible for her to join him at Netherfield but he didn't want her leaving Pemberley. Not long before he left she had just recovered from a rather violent cold and he did not wish for her to fall sick once again. No matter how much he missed his sister and wished her with him, he would not risk her health.

A hard knocked sounded and Mr Darcy said, 'Enter.'

'Sorry if I am interrupting,' said Mr Bingley.

Mr Darcy turned to his friend and smiled. 'Charles, you are never interrupting.'

'I am glad.' Mr Bingley smiled.

'What can I do for you?' Mr Darcy turned to face his friend.

Mr Bingley closed the door and moved across the room. 'I wanted to let you know that we will be receiving some guests for dinner at the end of the week.'

'Oh.' Mr Darcy was surprised. Mr Bingley had not seemed to meet anyone he would invite for dinner. 'Who are we expecting?'

'The Bennet family.'

The colour drained from Mr Darcy's face. He had only met the Bennet family once and did not like the idea of spending a whole evening in the company of them. During their first week of being at Netherfield Mr Bingley had received an invitation from his neighbour to a town ball. It was apparently a lot of fun and good way to get to know everyone. Mr Bingley was excited about the ball and forced both Mr Darcy and Caroline to go. During the course of the night the three of them were introduced to the Bennet family. A family of six, Mr Bennet was a quiet man who didn't say much; his wife, Mrs Bennet, was a woman who did not think before she spoke; and then there were her four children. Jane Bennet, the eldest and the most normal of the bunch, was a beauty. After Mr Bingley had laid eyes on her he had been taken, he had even spent most of the night dancing with her. Mary Bennet was the second daughter, she was quiet much like her father but when she spoke she was rather bold in her statements. The two youngest were Kitty and Lydia, and Mr Darcy disliked them as much as their mother. They were loud and spent most of the night throwing themselves into the arms of other men; Lydia had even fluttered her eyes at Mr Bingley and pulled him into a dance. Once the night was over Mr Darcy had no desire to ever see that family again.

'By your reaction I see you are not pleased,' said Mr Bingley.

'I have nothing against your choice of friends, Charles, it is just that...' Mr Darcy paused; he did not know how to say it without offending his friend. 'Look, I am sorry, but I do believe that the Bennet family are not suitable friends for you to have. However, I do know that you have taken a certain likely to Miss Jane Bennet and I will not interfere.'

Mr Bingley smiled at his friend. 'Thank you for your support, William. My sister was more displeased with me than you.'

'Well you can choose to get rid of me unlike your sister, so me supporting you works in my favour.'

Mr Bingley laughed and patted his friends shoulder.

'Maybe I will be able to have a conversation with Mr Bennet, and maybe Miss Mary Bennet.'

'I hope it will turn out better than the ball.'

'Yes let us pray that it does.'

'Again, thank you my friend. I will allow you to get back to work.'

Mr Darcy nodded at his friend and watched as he left. He couldn't think of a worst way to spend an evening than with the Bennet family...no wait, he could. He had, on many occasions, been stuck with Caroline Bingley alone and she could talk a man's ear off like no other. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

Later that same day Mr Darcy left the Netherfield, he took his horse and rode. Not really going to any certain place, Mr Darcy ended up on the edge of the property. He found a large tree that sat on the bank of a small stream. Taking a seat at the base of the tree Mr Darcy pulled out a poetry book – written by John Clare – that he enjoyed. Mr Darcy had thoroughly enjoyed reading every poem the man wrote.

He opened the book to his one of his favourite poems, First Love.

I ne'er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet.
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.

My face turned pale, a deadly pale.
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked what could I ail
My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face
And took my eyesight quite away.
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.

I could not see a single thing,
Words from my eyes did start.
They spoke as chords do from the string,
And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter's choice
Is love's bed always snow
She seemed to hear my silent voice
Not love appeals to know.

I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling place
And can return no more.

Mr Darcy had always wondered if that was what falling in love was really like. It was rare that those who were of his stature married for love, normally marriages were planned by parents. Being able to chose who you wish to spend your life with was one of the few things Mr Darcy envied about people who did not have wealth. He had always told his father, before he died, that he would give up everything to marry for love. His father did not approve.

Mr Darcy's parents were not in love when they married, but after spending so many years together with one another they fell in love. Not the love that you see young married couples wrapped up in, not the puppy dog love that Mr Bingley had for Jane Bennet, but a love made of respect for each other. They were happy to spend the rest of their lives together. And they did.

Reading the poem again Mr Darcy imagined how he wanted it to happen. In a ball perhaps, much like Mr Bingley and Jane Bennet. He would see her across the floor and they both would share flirtatious stares before finally dancing together. Maybe they would simply bump into one another on the street, she would drop something and he would bend down to pick it up for her. They could even be introduced through mutual acquaintances. Mr Darcy did not know what would happen, or when it would happen, he only hoped that one day it would.

Mr Darcy remained under the tree for some time, but as it grew closer to evening the weather grew cool. Deciding that it would be best to return to Netherfield, as he had told no one where he had gone, he gathered his horses reins and mounted. He moved his horse at a walk, he was in no rush to return.

The weather changed quickly. The clear skies changed to grey and the heavens opened. A heavy down pour of rain shot down from the sky, thunder rumble and the lighting flashed. Mr Darcy had somehow lost his way, and was now looking for any place to shelter him. Pushing his horse at a gallop, Mr Darcy spotted a bridge in the distance, a bridge that held shelter. He instantly headed for it, for he did not know how far Netherfield was and did not wish to get sick.

Stopping under the bridge's shelter he dismounted his horse and tied its reigns to the railing. He removed his coat and gave it a shake, hoping to remove some of the water. He laid his coat over the railing and took a seat. Pulling out his poetry book, he would wait out the rain. Hopefully no one would be too concerned about his whereabouts.

A minute or two passed when Mr Darcy hear a soft laugh. He looked up from his book, which he had pulled out to past the time, and saw a young woman at the other end. She was just as soaked as he was except the water did not seem to bother her, she seemed to find it humorous.

Mr Darcy stood from where he sat and cleared his throat. The woman gasped and turned around, Mr Darcy had frightened her.

'I did not mean to startle you, miss,' said Mr Darcy.

The woman smiled. 'Oh, it is quite alright. I just did not expect anyone else to be out during this weather.'

'I thought the very same thing.' Mr Darcy could not help but admire this woman, for she was quite the sight. Long brown hair that hung down her back in loose curls, and bold brown eyes that seemed to shine; her figure was slim and had small curves. Mr Darcy could not help but feel attracted to her. 'What is a young woman, like yourself, doing out in this dreadful weather alone?'

The woman smiled. 'I could ask the same of you, sir.'

'I will tell you why I am out if you do the same thing.'

The woman nodded. 'Alright. I was out enjoying the day, spending some time alone in the country and reading my favourite book. And then out of nowhere this downpour arrived.'

'We seem to be similar situations.'

She smiled at him. 'You were enjoying a book as well?' said the woman.

'Yes, a collection of John Clare's poetry.' Mr Darcy lifted the book up to show her.

The woman admired the book for a moment, and then said, 'I have not had the chance to read any of his work yet, it is good?'

'Fantastic, I would have to say.'

'What is your favourite?'

Mr Darcy frowned. 'You would make me chose?'

She smirked. 'Yes, for I would like to know what is best to start with?'

Mr Darcy smiled. He did not even know this young woman's name yet they spoke like they had known each other for some time. 'I would have to say that any of his poems would be a good starting point as I enjoy them all.'

'I guess I will have to take your word for it, sir.'

Mr Darcy continued to admire the woman; it was hard for him to keep his eyes off of her.

'Would it be rude of me to ask the name of the man who is staring at me?'

Mr Darcy almost blushed. 'No, of course not. My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy, and your name?'

'It is a pleasure to meet you Mr Darcy, I am Elizabeth Gardiner.'

'The pleasure is mine, I do apologise for staring but your beauty is hard to ignore.'

Elizabeth's cheeks turned red. 'My, you are bold, sir.'

Mr Darcy chuckled. 'I am normally not, for some reason I cannot seem to control my tongue.'

Elizabeth smiled. 'Well, I will forgive you this time, sir, but if we meet again I shall expect the behaviour of a gentleman.'

'I cannot make that promise.' Mr Darcy folded his arms behind his back. 'For I do not know what will happen when we meet again.'

'When?' Elizabeth raised her eyebrow. 'You are that certain that we shall meet again?'

'Yes, I am.' Mr Darcy took a step towards her.

The rain had faded, now only a drizzle. Both Elizabeth and Mr Darcy knew it was time to leave, for if the rain picked up again and they would not know how much longer they would be stuck there.

'Well, Mr Darcy, it was a pleasure meeting you,' said Elizabeth.

'You as well, Miss Gardiner.'

'I should be getting back, my cousins are most likely concerned.'

'Yes, my friends might be as well.'

'Good day, Mr Darcy.' Elizabeth curtsied.

'You as well, Miss Gardiner.' Mr Darcy bowed.

Elizabeth turned and walked off. As he watched her leave he couldn't help but hope that he would see her again, and soon. Soon she disappeared from sight and it was only then that Mr Darcy remembered that he still didn't know which way Netherfield was.