A/N: Anybody in favor of some ODC? Maybe a twofer? Here you go. Wade


Elizabeth Bennet stamped her foot in frustration, a habit she thought she had outgrown some time ago. Between herself and the man she now called a friend, and perhaps more, they had made make great strides since the time they met in Charlestown, with her tearing her fists to shreds against a tree. Well, come to think of it, she looked down at her battered hands and had to admit that just about anything was an improvement over that moment.

They had tracked Jane long enough that while she did not know that Jane was all right, at least she knew she had been a month ago. Jane seemed to be on the way to somewhere safe, and seemed quite clever enough to get there. In fact, Lizzy reflected that she may not in the end be the cleverest of the Bennet sisters, but she did not repent loss of the title.

Now she even knew exactly where Mary was, and it would be easy to reunite with her in Kent. At least, it would be easy to physically come together. Mary might hold some lingering resentments toward her, but she was her sister and Elizabeth thought all could be made right between them. She certainly had not a single thing to censure Mary for. She only felt sad that she had failed her sister when she was needed.

Now Elizabeth and William had decided to make best speed to London, and then Hertfordshire, then as quickly as possible back to Kympton. Jane appeared to be well on her way, and there seemed no further purpose in delay – if there ever even had been. Now, she found herself stuck on the side of a country road, about five miles from the town with the stage stop they sought, and wanted to just scream, or beat her fists against the dogcart… well, probably not that one.

She asked, "How bad is it, William?"

Darcy had been futzing around with the horse's hoof for a good ten minutes, and finally sighed in exasperation and said, "The shoe is damaged, and there is a nail crosswise in the hoof. I cannot remove it with my bare hands, and cannot let the horse continue on without further damaging it."

Elizabeth said, "You know as well as I do, neither of us would allow that."

Darcy was glad to see the care she was willing to expend on the animal that she was unlikely to ever see again. He always thought that the way people treated their animals said something about their character, and this just made him even more impressed with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stamped her foot again. To be stuck five miles from the stage stop on a Saturday afternoon might driver her mad. Paradoxically, being ten or fifteen miles away would not have been nearly as frustrating. They had learned that this stage stop had a rather unusual night coach on Saturday night that could have put them one day closer to Jane, but now they would be stuck here, possibly sleeping in the open for the night. They could not even just set the horse loose without danger to its hoof, so they had very few good options.

Darcy watched her stamp her foot, and tried his best to hide his amusement; which he assumed would not improve his case very much. He was in fact anxious to get to Jane Bennet and ease both of their worries, but that event would also remove his time of guaranteed company with Elizabeth. That was something he was not looking forward to. He had no doubt she would be friendly to him, even more than friendly. He felt that they had established some kind of bond beyond mere friendship. He could even imagine that she might well allow him to court her properly. However, they would be back in society, back living by its rules and strictures, back to worrying about propriety, and gossip, and any effect on the remaining sisters (his and hers) reputations. In short, their short respite was nearly over, and while the morrow may bring him the best of all possible outcomes, it was still by no means guaranteed. He could see that Elizabeth had warmed to him considerably, but would it be enough?

They were both so deep in thought that they did not notice an approaching farm wagon until it was nearly upon them. They looked curiously as it came to a stop, and both were taken aback to see the happiest man either had ever seen in their lives.

The man jumped down from the cart, and introduced himself, "Good day, good day! Oh my, I see not such a good day. Let's have a look shall we. What's the horse's name? Got a thrown shoe do we? Right nice dogcart there, my good man! Not sure about this harness though. Oh my, did not introduce myself properly. James Moffat at your service! Pleased to meet you, I'm sure. Let's have another look at that shoe. I can see why you did not carry on, sir! Cannot let the animal out of his traces like that. Tear the hoof to pieces. No, this will not do. This will not do at all."

William and Lizzy realized they had only managed to hear about half his words, and the man was off to the back of his wagon before they could even respond, or introduce themselves.

The man was a big, round ball of sunshine of middle years. His head sported wispy gray hair, his movements and expressions were all big and bold; and he just seemed so happy. Standing next to him, Mr. Bingley would look as peevish as the old Darcy, and the old serene Jane Bennet would look like a petulant child.

In no time at all, Mr. Moffat pulled a pair of blacksmith's tongs out of the back of the wagon, and in another minute or less, the offending shoe was off the horse, the bent nails were removed, and he started releasing it from the harness, which had Darcy snapping to assist.

"No more pulling for this one for the night. You cannot make it to your next town before dark, and you know as well as I do, this one will not be ready for much pulling for a day or two. I am afraid it's to the farmstead for the lot of you. Come along! Let's get this cart off the road young man. Just let the horse into that pasture, and we can come back for him in the morning."

Thus it was, that without a dozen words spoken on their side of the bargain, or even proper introductions, the pair were whisked into the farm wagon, and twenty minutes later without any slackening of words from Mr. Moffat, they arrived at a neat and tidy farmhouse, to be greeted with a matronly goodwife and a bunch of boisterous children.

Mrs. Moffat turned out to be just as voluble as her husband and both fussed and bothered about the pair like a pair of mother hens; and talked over each other as often as not, but with no offense taken, or even any notice given.

Again, without even a proper introduction, Lizzy found herself setting the table with twelve year old Anne, and seemingly the very next moment, she was sitting at the table with two year old Emma on her lap, feeding her peas and carrots from her plate… and surprisingly, not at all worried about the unusual situation. Neither she nor Fitzwilliam had managed to squeeze an introduction in, but neither of the Moffats seemed unduly concerned.

Dinner was mutton, potatoes and peas, and Mrs. Moffat even had a pie for dessert. After dinner, Elizabeth and William entertained the children by reading from a book he had picked up in a bookstore on one of their stops, and Elizabeth for just a moment saw what a life with Fitzwilliam Darcy might be like, and it was not such a terrible thing.

Sometime later, the children were all abed, except for little Emma who had fallen asleep on Elizabeth's lap, and she was not quite ready to give her up yet.

Mr. and Mrs. Moffat sat down with them, and said the very last thing they expected.

Mrs. Moffat said, "I expect you'll want to know about Miss Jane! I assume you are Miss Elizabeth."

Both gasped in surprise, and Elizabeth startled enough to wake poor little Emma, but the child went right back to sleep. She saw Mr. Moffat grinning at her and thought she really should be a bit peevish about such a joke, but found she just could not maintain any type of anger against the pair. She doubted anyone in England could really manage it.

Mr. Moffat continued feeding tobacco into his pipe and tamping it down as he continued the tale, "You must be Miss Elizabeth. We are pleased to meet you, I'm sure. Yes, your Jane was here, along with Miss Lucy and the three little ones. Spent three days with us. We tried to get her to just stay and write to her family to fetch her, but she's a stubborn one, she is."

Elizabeth said, "I understand that to be true, but it's a new development. She was not so formidable when we left home."

Mrs. Moffat said, "We all were a bit different in the schoolroom, weren't we dear."

Elizabeth agreed that it was so, and looked over to Fitzwilliam.

Darcy took it all in and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Moffat, I believe we are in your debt."

Mrs. Moffat actually snorted, and reached into the pocket of her apron. She said, "Absolutely not, and I will trouble you to take these shillings back to Miss Jane. Little rapscallion left them hidden on the mantle."

Darcy had to laugh at the couple, and thought he might as well introduce himself. "Mr. and Mrs. Moffat, I am afraid we have not introduced ourselves properly. Fitzwilliam Darcy, at your service."

Elizabeth had to laugh at the man, he managed to nod his head quite formally, while sitting on a chair, with his trousers barely clean from his turn with little Emma, which had not gone as smoothly as he might have hoped. He certainly did not seem to mind overly much though. He was not the fastidious man he had appeared to be in Hertfordshire. Was this the actual real Fitzwilliam Darcy?

Both pairs spend a good hour or two talking about Jane's visit, and learning about her new charges. Elizabeth could not wait to meet them.

Finally, it came time for sleep. Elizabeth and William had been running day and night for so long they were thoroughly worn out. The Moffats offered them the choice of the floor by the banked hearth, or the hayloft. Neither had slept in a hayloft since they were children, and thought it might just be a fitting end to this mad adventure. Another twenty minutes found them both in comfortable beds of straw; a half-dozen paces apart in the surprisingly comfortable hay loft, and sound asleep.