Chapter 2: A Chance Encounter
To say that Darcy had been less than pleased would have been an understatement. No sooner had he arrived in Hertfordshire, he had received an express from his irascible aunt, Lady Catherine De Bourgh, demanding his presence in Kent. Darcy had initially been of a mind to ignore her, but subsequently felt that his aunt would have been just as likely to arrive at Netherfield's doorstep and he had wished to avoid that drama.
Accordingly, he had once again criss-crossed through London to Kent, to a most uncomfortable two-night stay.
Lady Catherine had almost instantly berated him about his unwillingness to marry his cousin – her daughter – the weak, feeble, and forlorn Anne De Bourgh. For two nights, Lady Catherine had spoken without end about the alleged betrothal between Darcy and his cousin, supposedly planned between their mothers while they were in their infancy. Darcy had long since given up noting that he had heard nothing of the sort from his mother, and certainly not from his father; their conversations had decidedly been of a different nature. Darcy had equally given up pointing out that he had more than enough income, the estate of Pemberley being sufficient for several generations of Darcys to live comfortably, and thus him having no wish to unite his estate with Rosings, the estate of Anne, and even less desire to become one of wealthiest families in all of England.
The only issue that Darcy had taken the trouble to point out, repeatedly, was that he would not be marrying his cousin. There were tears, threats, and tantrums, but on this point he would not budge. After Ramsgate, now more than ever, Darcy was convinced that Anne was the last woman on earth that would make a suitable wife for him.
Darcy had left a highly quarrelsome aunt behind in Kent, and his own mood had not been significantly better. A rest in his own home in London had improved his temper somewhat, and he had started out for Netherfield very early in the day, perhaps too early. However, by the time he had reached Hatfield, Darcy was feeling well enough to hire a horse and ride the rest of the way to Netherfield, leaving his valet to make his way in the carriage with the trunks. He needed fresh air.
It was a damp morning, and Darcy surmised that it must have rained heavily the previous day. The fields were wet and muddy, the road with a significant amount of puddles, but the air was crisp. Atop the horse, the state of the ground did not bother Darcy, and he soon veered off the main road to ride to Netherfield through the fields. The scenery in his opinion could not compare to his home country of Derbyshire, but he was very happy with what he saw. The clean air and green expanse was what his spirits needed, after being locked indoors with a squabbling aunt for too long.
As the horse took a rather forceful jump over a fence splashing mud all round, Darcy saw a quick flash of white and a loud gasp. He immediately reined in the horse, looking about him.
Standing to the side was a young woman, all alone, in the middle of the field.
Darcy was astonished. He blinked, looking at her closer; she had a light and pleasing figure, and was dressed as any young gentlewoman from the country would be dressed. However, the hem of her dress was hanging with mud, her boots stained, her hair wayward and blowsy under her bonnet. Her face had a brilliancy and glow that he attributed to the exercise of walking, and a pair of fine eyes was looking at him quizzically.
Remembering himself, Darcy dismounted and bowed. He still could not comprehend how a young woman would be walking all alone in the middle of a country field. "I beg your pardon Miss, I did not see you there as I was taking that fence." Darcy noticed a fresh streak of mud across her gown, and presumed that stain to be the fault of his horse.
He was greeted with a bright, lively smile. "It is of no concern sir, just some dirt. Nothing that some water will not sort. You could not have possibly expected to run into me, rambling across the fields."
Darcy could not keep the surprise out of his voice. "So you are well and truly alone, walking about here? With no companion whatsoever?"
The lady's smile dimmed, and she arched an eyebrow. "And why should I not? It is no more than you are doing sir, though you do have a horse for a companion."
"Our situations are hardly comparable; I shall escort you to your destination," Darcy intoned primly. He was utterly discomposed by this lady and her complete disregard to the manners of the fashionable world.
The lady almost rolled her eyes. "I am perfectly able to reach my destination on my own, as was clearly my intention."
"Nevertheless, I insist. I can hardly abandon a gentlewoman in the middle of nowhere and carry on my merry way."
She sighed in resignation. "Very well then. I am walking to Netherfield, I will lead the way as – "
"I am heading to Netherfield myself," Darcy interrupted, his surprise growing. "I am a guest there." Belatedly, he realised that they had completely omitted any introductions. "Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley."
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Elizabeth Bennet, of Longbourn. My elder sister is ill and staying at Netherfield since yesterday; I am on my way to see how she fares."
Darcy absolutely started. He wondered at the series of events that had led to one Bennet sister staying at Netherfield, and the another being on her way there. He saw that Elizabeth was looking at him with curiosity. Darcy tried to think of something appropriate to say. "So you are coming from Longbourn to Netherfield? That is three miles of walking."
Elizabeth turned to look at him tartly. "Concern for a sibling induces me to not be bothered by weather or distance, sir. I am rather surprised that a guest to Netherfield is already so familiar as to the exact distance in the area, and the neighbours," she added.
"It would have been rather foolish of me to undertake riding to Netherfield all alone, if I had not made myself familiar with such matters previously," Darcy responded curtly. He was feeling rising irritation at all the Bingleys, as he did not know whether it was Charles, his sister Caroline, or the both of them that were responsible for this state of affairs. To think, he had not yet even met Mr. Bennet, either accidentally or on purpose, and he was escorting the second Bennet sister to see the first. Under the circumstances, Darcy determined to say very little to Elizabeth until he had spoken to Charles.
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