The way her boots crushed each pile of leaves - laying waste to puddle after puddle between them - was entirely unladylike. The way she marched through the clearings like a renegade soldier disgusted even herself.

But she didn't truly care today.

A half mile before Oakham Mount, she stopped to catch her breath.

The harsh words she'd exchanged with her newfound friend haunted her from the moment she'd uttered them. Her eyes stung, even now, at the recollection of her own unfairness and pride.

Had she thrown her injured thoughts so freely at a blind, suffering man? Had she quarreled with a stalwart brother - when his sister, her friend, stood so near? The insults he had flung at her still roused their own part of unrest in her heart. How dared he accuse Charlotte of mercenary motives! How dared he make so light of others' feelings when his own path to love had been everything nothing but boring and all but arranged?

Unwarranted, a long, hardened sniff escaped her - trailed by her own ragged breath.

Dinner had been unbearable last night - with Mama dwelling endlessly upon Charlotte's good fortune and her own daughters' accursed luck. In her heart, Elizabeth rejoiced for her friend. Alongside her joy, however, dwelt a deep, unsettling guilt over the ruined hearts the impending union inevitably left in its wake.

"Miss Elizabeth!" The sound of her name surprised her - and she turned quickly to check her surroundings. It was early, but not so early that no kindly villagers would come to her aid if a highwayman were to find her before a friend did.

"Miss Elizabeth!" The voice called again. She wondered if the man - for it was indubitably a man's voice now - saw her though she could not see him. The thought of an unexpected encounter with a neighbor, or a childhood friend, felt equal parts welcome and intrusive at her current height of emotions.

Unbidden, her feet followed the direction of the call. An invisible thread beckoned her - hauling her forward, inch by inch.

"Miss Elizabeth!" A third cry came. A glimpse of his coattails, and the now-indisputable recognition of his voice, ensured then that she knew who wished to see her before she fully chanced upon him.

"Mr. Darcy," she greeted when she stood before him at last.

He sat upon a boulder - crouched low due to his large stature. His right hand clung to his walking stick, grasping it tighter ever so often as beads of sweat carved their paths down the sides of his face. Mr. Wickham - the only explanation for how his master came to be here by himself - was nowhere in sight.

"Miss Elizabeth." His face broke into a small grin. "You have come."

"Yes," she said, unsure. When he did not pounce, nor bite, she ventured another foot closer.

This clearing was among her favorites, a familiar resting place on her way to her favorite view. The birds sang sweetly here, at all hours of the day, and the laden branches kept a lovely vigil over the tiny creek. They'd met here before - more than once.

Still, a man as encumbered as he could not be expected to make such a trip on his own lightly.

"Mr. Wickham has returned to Netherfield," Mr. Darcy explained, seemingly having read her mind. "He will not disturb us."

Elizabeth nodded, unable to formulate any other response.

"Forgive my intrusion." Suddenly, her companion was contrite. "I believe our encounter in town yesterday was rather - unideal."

She swallowed, uncomfortable with her own thoughts being so freely discussed on his lips.

"Miss Elizabeth?"

"Yes, you are right." Slowly, she drifted one step away.

"My apologies for encountering you thus, madame. I - my limitations bring me very few options to speak undisturbed, undiscovered."

She nodded again. Despite the fact he clearly could not see her - he nodded back, as if he did.

"I'm afraid I have some amends to make, madame." He shifted until he faced her. It was as if he sensed her presence, without laying a single eye upon her person. "May I have liberty to speak my mind?"

The humble gentleman before her now was so radically different from the haughty one in Meryton less than a day ago - that she did not even hesitate.

"Yes, sir, of course."


"So you see, Miss Elizabeth, I have not once - at any point in my lifetime - ever considered myself betrothed to my cousin."

She nodded mutely from her seat upon the grass, a position she had taken soon after he had begun his long-winded explanation. His lack of vision permitted her many unladylike liberties any other man could, or should, not.

"My aunt's express wishes - while oft repeated - had no bearing upon my life or my cousin's. It was merely my love for my mother that - " Here, he stopped and sniffed abruptly. The weight in Elizabeth's heart, growing for the past half hour, grew heavier still. "No, I ought not to make excuses."

"Mr. Darcy," she called him - for no reason, truly - than merely to call him. She frowned sternly, as regretful of her foolish words as she was thankful for this man's willingness to make amends.

"While many women - sadly, many of women in my circle - may have mercenary designs," he spoke calmly, as if merely remarking upon the weather, "there is no justification for me to attribute similar motives to the kind people of Hertfordshire."

Elizabeth blinked the sudden tears away. The humility and openness her new friend displayed today recommended him as no flirty compliment or grand declaration could.

She admired him - more keenly now than ever before.

She cleared her throat, a clumsy endeavor. "I must apologize as well, sir, for my own foolishness at Meryton. I fear my own pride spurred me to choose the words I knew would hurt you most - before my selfishness spurred me to utter them."

Mr. Darcy shook his head, though he had no reason to pardon her.

"You spoke as you did merely because I accused you first," he said.

"My lack of discretion - and hurtfulness towards your sister - deserve no forgiveness."

"My own expectations for my sister are no better than my aunt's for me. I - who have been victimized by their schemes - owe greater guilt for attempting to do to others what I disdain being done to me."

"You love your sister - "

"That is no reason to impose upon my cousin."

"Love comes unexpected. You could not have known - "

"Miss Elizabeth." He turned his face directly towards her. Her eyes fixed themselves upon his handsome features. "Can a man ever truly know a woman's heart?"

She blinked for a few moments, choosing each word with care.

Then she spoke, "You have not incorrectly divined your sister's hopes."

He looked down suddenly then, the stern frown on his face betraying his pain. "I have failed her."

"You have not." She leaned closer towards him.

"I gave her hope when there was no reason to hope. I allowed my preferences to create unkind expectations."

"You could not possibly have expected - "

"Miss Elizabeth." He looked sharply towards her, this time his face mere inches away. His breath tickled her nose. "Have I caused my sister's heartbreak?"

Her gaze ran generously over his face. Her heart ached for his.

"I only wished that she found happiness - where I could not." His hands shook.

"Yes, of course."

"Would she ever love another?"

She did not know why he asked her. She did not know why she - an unmarried lady - had any reason to feign further knowledge than he possessed.

But his pain was too palpable to ignore.

So she took his hands in hers. "I am sure she shall."


"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth," he told her gallantly when she assisted him upon his feet an hour hence.

"It is no hardship, sir." She smiled.

She knew their current exchange was unusual. She keenly felt the uncommon thrill of her hand pressed between his arm and his body.

She tried to speak evenly, nonetheless. "It is my honor to aid a man so kind."

His free hand flew to cover her entangled fingers. She leaned closer.

"My sister had no such praise for me."

"Georgiana?" Elizabeth split her mind between attending to his words and supporting his body.

"I apologized to her - last night." He gripped her hand tighter as they moved over a large rock. His admission caught her entirely by surprise. He continued, unperturbed, "She did not welcome the sentiment overly much."

A sadness sprung within Elizabeth - compassion for this broken, unlikely man.

"She shall discover your kindness when she finds her true love," Elizabeth professed. Their feet landed in unison upon the smoother path.

"True love," he muttered. His limitations caused their steps to progress slowly. A small, grim smile crept onto his lips. "It is not too mythical a hope?"

"It is - entirely possible." Elizabeth felt her own skin warm. The crook in the path demanded that she walk closer to her tall, intriguing companion. "There are stories - "

"In novels and legends?" His smile relaxed. "Life does not promise the epic for the ordinary man."

"Or woman, perhaps," she conceded. They strolled leisurely down the familiar path, meandering slowly towards Netherfield.

Their conversation lulled for a few moments. The birds' morning song framed their steps.

"Are you a believer of destiny, Miss Elizabeth?" The question he uttered did not insult, nor offend. He spoke in a manner so calm that he might just as well have been mentioning the inevitable onset of winter.

"I trust Providence - and its hand of wisdom." She pondered as she spoke. "I suppose one could refer to such sovereignty as destiny."

He nodded wordlessly. She wondered if he was pleased with her reply.

"Is it as much an act of destiny that Richard wed Miss Lucas as his not wedding my sister?"

Now, he sounded as if he only talked to himself.

Elizabeth looked towards the ground for a moment. Was Providence as kind as it was cruel?

"Miss Elizabeth."

"Yes, I believe," Elizabeth answered. "For destiny cannot contradict itself."

"And it is upon those ground that you believe a love greater than Richard's would come to my sister." He stopped walking and turned to face her. Her arm, previously linked in his, fell to her side. Then, his hand rose and reached tentatively for her cheek. She let him find it.

Elizabeth looked directly upon his face, and her heart began to run amok.

"And what of you, Miss Elizabeth?" He looked at her as if he saw her. His breath kissed the skin on her nose.

"Of me?"

"Has destiny - will destiny - be as kind to you as you believe it shall be to Georgiana?"

His lips hovered close - so close to hers that one small sway would rest them upon each other. Her breath grew short, faint.

"Mr. Darcy - "

"And perhaps, to me?" A note of uncertainty resonated in his tone. He leaned his forehead forward, as if aiming for hers.

Just then, a twig snapped above her and landed beside her feet.

She snapped just as quickly out of his spell.

"Mr. Darcy, shall I - " She extricated herself from his touch, not having realized in the first place that he had rested his other hand on her shoulder, walking stick forgotten. "Shall I continue walking you to Netherfield?"

He stood still. If there was disappointment at all, he hid it well.

"It would be most helpful, madame. Please."


They remained quiet for the remainder of their solitude. On Elizabeth's part, she soaked in the day's events, the rustling path, and the morning air with equal parts appreciation and surprise. The fact that they had met at all had been surprising enough. His apologies and subsequent actions - had been even more so.

Would she ever decipher this man?

"Ah, I see my charge has been running about!"

Elizabeth kicked one last pile of leaves before she looked up. Mr. Wickham, true to his tone, stood ten paces away with a smirk on his face.

She nearly rolled her eyes at his childishness.

"I have been duly cared for, you see." Mr. Darcy smiled as he spoke. Elizabeth noticed, rather suddenly, that he had been smiling for the greater duration of their stroll.

"Very carefully." Mr. Wickham's smirk deepened.

Elizabeth traced the direction of his eyes - and quickly unentangled herself from Mr. Darcy. Had they truly been standing that close for so long?

Mr. Darcy spoke calmly, undaunted, "You did well to leave me, George."

"As you wish. Your request was of the early sort today, of course." As if in demonstration, the glorified valet yawned dramatically.

Elizabeth frowned, unimpressed.

"Forgive my whims," Mr. Darcy responded, still smiling. The harshness of his brow - so often displayed in company - was entirely absent today.

She learned earlier today that he trusted her.

Now she realized, with no small measure of panic, that there was a man the master of Pemberley trusted more.

Lydia's words from fortnights past - accusations of Mr. Darcy, defenses for Mr. Wickham - echoed in her mind, deepening her unrest.

"My friend is fortunate, Miss Elizabeth, that you seem to be generous enough to indulge his whims as well." Mr. Wickham's smile, his voice, and his manner prove beguiling.

Elizabeth stepped back by a foot.

She forced a smile. "Your master is a wise man. I do well to attend to his confessions."

The smirk returned, prompting Elizabeth a belated epiphany over what her words might have suggested.

"There is nothing improper going on here, George. I suggest you silence your mind." Despite the strong words, Mr. Darcy still spoke with a teasing tone.

She did not understand both men.

"You wound me, Fitz. How do you frame my thoughts so exceedingly well each time?" Mr. Wickham replied.

"Nearly thirty years of company proffer much by way of observation."

"Despite your eyes."

"Despite my eyes." The taller man smiled serenely.

Was this the easy relationship Mr. Wickham so widely slandered in town? Was the kindness of his master and friend a testament of good character - or a cover for a deeper family secret? She knew, more so today than ever, that Mr. Darcy was a man of good character.

'He stole poor Mr. Wickham's birthright and usurped him as master of Pemberley - only because he was blind!'

Still, Lydia's careless words haunted, undermined, and annoyed.

Elizabeth blinked away any expression of her thoughts.

"If you are quite done with him, Miss Elizabeth, I believe my duty demands that I assist Mr. Darcy here in finding his way home." Mr. Wickham addressed her again. His smile was handsome - charming.

Elizabeth paused, confused.

"Miss Elizabeth, I thank you again for granting my entreaties audience." Mr. Darcy turned towards her. She wordlessly allowed him to find her hand and lift it to his lips.

She let go - reluctantly.

"The honor is mine, sir."

She believed him - his kindness, sincerity, and goodness. She knew she could not observe a man so lengthily and still be wrong about her judgment.

She wondered, as the two men walked away a moment hence, if Mr. Darcy knew his own character.

She wondered if he knew his friend's.


Ten Years Ago


"Mama, I did not - "

Elizabeth's protest could not stop the hand that slapped her face.

"Mama." She sniffed - aching, hurt, betrayed. "It was not I who broke it!"

"It was you, Lizzy. I saw you!" Lydia shrieked. Lizzy shook her head.

"Confess, Elizabeth, or - I swear - you sleep outside tonight!" Mama growled. Elizabeth had grown many inches of late, but Mama was still taller. "That was your grandfather's vase!"

"I did not even come close to it, Mama," Elizabeth pleaded. When she reached out her hands, Mama pulled away.

"Your father ought to be ashamed of you, Elizabeth - all wild and unladylike and clumsy."

"Mama," cried Elizabeth. She wished to fall on her knees - but knew to do so would be as good as to admit to an act she did not do.

"Fanny, enough," Papa said from behind her.

Elizabeth turned slowly, sniffing every other second.

"If Elizabeth said she did not break it, then she did not." Papa rested a hand on her shoulder. Elizabeth wished she could turn and hug her father - if only Mama wouldn't be further incensed by the act.

"Lydia saw her!" Mama insisted. Elizabeth heard little Lydia sneer.

"And who is to say Lydia did not break the vase herself?" Papa replied. "'Tis often that the guilty party accuse another first."

"Papa!" It was Lydia who wailed now.

"Thomas, you cannot think - "

"I believe Lizzy," Papa declared. "No one shall punish her further for what I believe to be untrue."


A/N: I hope that all the ODC overload here made up for their being relatively out of the spotlight in recent chapters! We are now officially halfway through this story. I hope you're still enjoying this!