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A Wicked, White Cravat
by Anton M.

Chapter 14: A Walk in the Forest

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"Thank you, Mr. Neil." Darcy offered his arm for his wife to step off the carriage.

The coachman nodded. "And you are sure you would rather walk?"

"Yes," Darcy replied. "We shall meet you by the Debden Hall at three o'clock as previously agreed."

The trot of the horse grew distant until it left behind the sounds of the winter forest to their east and a few distant barking dogs in the farms on the the fields to their west. The air was crisp, and the vapour of their breath disappeared quickly. There was no wind.

Elizabeth took in her surroundings, the sun, the silence, the nature, the road ahead of them, and looked at her husband in wonder.

"Where are we?"

"We are in the southern parts of Epping forest just east of Walthamstow. We shall walk north by the forest and the countryside until we meet Mr. Neil just north of Loughton. Even with a leisurely pace, it should take us no more than four hours. Shall we?"

He held out his elbow for Elizabeth to take, and in a daze, she accepted. They started walking.

During their almost two-hour carriage ride, he had barely said a word and refused to reveal where they were heading. Elizabeth, given his grave face, was left under the impression that she was about to be scolded for her shortcomings, and that he needed privacy to do so.

She had tried to lighten his mood to no avail.

"I must owe you an apology," she said, determined to soften the blow if he was upset with her. Had some rumours upset him? Had she failed as a hostess? Had a servant said unkind things about her? She had been endlessly occupied by one thing or another for the entire month, and it was quite possible that something had slipped her mind.

Darcy gaped at his wife. "What on Earth for?"

"If you feel that I have failed as a mistress or a wife—"

"I forbid you to continue."

Elizabeth halted to a stop. "You… forbid me?"

"I forbid you," he repeated. Facing her, he squeezed her shoulders, and the softness in his eyes was unmistakeable. Elizabeth, feeling relief wash over her, watched her breath disappear against his chest.

"You are not upset with me?"

Darcy pulled her into a tight, warm hug, resting his chin against her hair. He ran his gloved hand up and down her back, pulling her closer. "Good Lord, did you think I took you all this way to scold you?"

"Yes," she whispered against his chest. "You have never scolded me thus far, and I felt you would find privacy to do so. You were so severe on the way here, I could not help but try to figure out what I had done wrong."

Darcy pulled back and took hold of her neck. He rested his forehead against hers. "I took you here to make you happy, and to have a day with you, just you, without anyone else prying for our attention."

"But I do not understand. Our day is full of arrangements, and we were supposed to meet the Duke of—"

"The Duke can wait," Darcy interrupted. "As can our other obligations. I am, first and foremost, devoted to you."

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him under his coat. "I love you."

"You will never know how much I love you." He pressed his lips against her hair. "You are doing wonderfully in all your roles — I cannot step into a room without hearing what a brilliant match I made. I owe you many apologies, starting from my sour mood today morning which was not at all caused by you. I am not yet well-versed in admitting my failures, and I fear I was lost in my thoughts. I will strive to do better."

Elizabeth caught his lips in a kiss, and it was a wonder to realise that nobody was there to care or wait on them. The roads were empty, they were married, and neither knew anyone in this corner of England. Darcy seemed to have the same thoughts for he pressed her tightly against him, relishing her breath and little whispers against his mouth. His hand travelled lower, far lower than he had ever dared touch her on their walks before they were married, until he squeezed her rear.

Elizabeth laughed, slightly breathless. She rubbed his back under his coat.

Darcy slid his hand higher to rest on her lower back. "I swear if it was not the middle of winter, I would—"

He licked his lips before clearing his throat, and Elizabeth stilled her hands on his back. "You would what?"

He blushed, stifling his smile before he whispered against her ear, "I would show you exactly how enjoyable being in nature could be."

Embarrassed by his boldness, he locked eyes with her, but Elizabeth simply lifted herself on her tiptoes and whispered against his ear, "There is a lot I look forward to in Pemberley."

Darcy could've sworn he was dreaming for no man could've done enough good in their life to deserve a wife like Elizabeth.

He opened the side of his coat, the way he did with her, and Elizabeth entered it. Her new coat was more than warm enough for the weather, but it felt too precious to be in his arms to refuse his warmth for silly practical reasons. She held his waist. Darcy pressed a kiss against her forehead.

"We must start walking," he said. "Mr. Neil will wait for us if we are late but I do not wish to be later than sundown."

They begun walking in the countryside, holding each other, enjoying the sun through the bare hornbeams, beeches and oaks, discovering the redness of butcher's-brooms' berries, nodding at the occasional passing carriage. A few came to a stop next to them, worried that the carriage of the gentle-folks had broken, but Elizabeth and Darcy reassured them with a smile and continued their walk.

Darcy observed his wife, the way she shut her eyes when the sun hit her face, the occasional smile that she hid in his shirt, and a sense of joy and relief at the silence of the countryside. Darcy, pressing yet another kiss against her temple, came to a decision to take their carriage to the countryside each week to spend the day together. Just like today, he wanted her to rejoice in her favourite thing in the world — a long walk in the countryside, something they could do even if they were staying in London. He was not a big walker — he preferred his horse — but the idea of walking next to Elizabeth to be able to protect her (should it be needed), spend time with her and listen to her concerns as she walked off her worries, it was too precious for words.

"I would like to ask you something," Darcy said, and at Elizabeth's gentle squeeze, he continued, "Of all your new obligations, which one is more of a splinter in your shoe than an activity you take pride in?"

Elizabeth paused, looking curiously at Darcy's face.

"I will not punish you for your words," he said. "And if you admit that it is all too much, it is not a failure of your character. I have seen your puzzled look in a drawing room when yet another lady of high rank complains of their life of leisure, a life you are entitled to but have yet to experience."

"I am not so fragile a creature as to fly away with the slightest wind."

"I know you are not," Darcy replied. "You are stronger than most ladies among the ton for you have endured hardships and uncertainties that they have not. Again, I do not wish to pass judgement on your character as I know your value, and can never match it. Please, will you think of your answer?"

Elizabeth took her time and kept her eyes on the road when she finally spoke.

"Did anyone… did anyone complain that I could not fulfil my tasks?"

"Of course not."

"Do you feel like I cannot fulfil my tasks?"

"Most certainly not."

Darcy observed his wife, his beautiful, lovely wife, and realised, with some measure of relief and surprise, that he was not the only prideful creature in their relationship — Lady Catherine had accused Elizabeth of not being able to live up to her new role, and Elizabeth had matched the accusation. As a result, Elizabeth was excessively determined to fulfil all obligations of the mistress of the Darcy townhouse as well as the Mistress of Pemberley, even at the price of her own health. Even without her duties concerning estate matters, on an average day, she was doing more than most women of the ton ever had.

Thus far, Darcy had not thought of how much Elizabeth had changed in the months he had known her, and how much she had had to change for her new role as his wife. Had they married the day after their kiss in Netherfield, Darcy was sure that Elizabeth would have argued vehemently against the price of her settlement, against the new dresses, even against the renovation of her room. She would have, no doubt, made comments about the (lack of) necessity of many aspects of their lives.

Moreover, where Darcy had become acutely aware of his pride and took measures to cull it, the rumours surrounding their engagement and the subsequent events had ensured that Elizabeth had to hold her head high. And if she felt, even a little bit, that the ton was expecting her to fail in her new role, she would've been more determined to rise to the occasion. She herself had said so.

As if understanding his thoughts, Elizabeth stared at her husband, pressing her lips tightly together. "I am sorry," she said. "I fear that my defensive words are a reaction to some women in ton who would delight in my failure. I did not mean to imply that I do not trust you when you say you hold me in high esteem. I know that you do."

Darcy pressed a kiss on her hair. "You do more in a day than most of our servants. When I asked Mrs. Stephens, she told me this morning that some servants are starting to feel ashamed to be seen as less hard-working than their mistress. You are, truthfully, doing the same share of estate work that I do, and yet you have dinners and luncheons to organise. You handle most of the servants and employees' duties, and you are also, quite often, a life of the party when we go out or host an event. Elizabeth, I am worried for you."

Elizabeth looked at her husband with an amazed, soft smile, and pressed a kiss against his chest, but before she could reply, Darcy stopped walking and took her hands in his.

"Close your eyes."

Smiling, she did as she was told.

"Pretend that it is a week from now and we are at your sister's wedding. I'm talking to Bingley and you have reunited with your bosom friend, Charlotte. I am Charlotte."

Elizabeth opened her eyes, but Darcy raised his eyebrow, not a smidgeon of jest in his expression, and she shut her eyes again.

"Lizzie! It must be such a change for you to be a mistress of a townhouse! Tell me, is your husband a headache?"

Elizabeth let out a laugh as she looked at him, but she did not correct his nickname of her. Darcy, seeing her delight and hesitance, nodded at her to continue.

"No," Elizabeth replied, pressing a gentle kiss on Darcy's lips. "William is a most attentive and loving husband, and I could not have found a better man. He is wonderful."

Elizabeth cupped his cheek, ensuring that he knew she meant her words, and Darcy pressed a tender kiss on her palm. He was visibly relieved.

"What about the servants? Do you wish someone else would take on these duties?"

After his instructions, she shut her eyes. "No, I think I… I think I have always loved developing relationships with employees and ensuring that all is as it should be. I do not think I could ever resent those duties."

"But hosting so many parties must be a pain!"

"Yes, I—" Elizabeth agreed, and her eyes snapped open when she realised what she said.

Darcy cupped her cheek and pressed his lips against her forehead before he took her in his coat and they continued walking. The high-pitched see-saw of a great tit echoed in the woods.

"Sir, I… I do not resent hosting, and I would never complain about such a trifling matter."

"I know," he replied. "You are allowed to dislike your obligations, Elizabeth, especially when you have so many. I forced the truth out of you, and no other woman among the ton is also handling estate matters as you are. Now, tell me, may I hire a person for that role and perhaps allow Georgie to split those obligations with the new person? I have already spoken to her, and I fear your diligent work ethics is having a strong influence on her for she is most eager to help you."

"You will not think me a failure?"

"Far from it," he replied. "You are the most important thing to me. My first priority is your health and happiness, and I could not forgive myself if you were to hide how overwhelmed you are and resent me in silence. I do not like delegating tasks to others nor am I particularly good at it, but I must insist on your taking on less, and if hiring one new person is not enough then I shall hire seven. I will hire however many we need until you are not so torn between all your duties that you are in danger of losing yourself in your obligations."

Elizabeth squeezed his side, grateful beyond words that her husband took such diligent care of her.

"But how did you know that I had become overwhelmed? I tried not to…" Elizabeth shut her eyes for a long moment in realisation. "Did I fall asleep in my clothes on your bed yesterday?"

"You did," he replied softly.

She hid her face in his chest. "It will not happen again."

"I certainly hope it will," Darcy argued, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. "I quite enjoyed it."

She smiled at his answer but felt that his concern of her must've had other roots. "Are you worried that I may not be able to give you heirs?"

Darcy paused.

"That is why you are worried for me, is it not?"

They were in the middle of a patch of forest, walking closer to a woodpecker whose pecking echoed near them. Darcy stopped and surrounded her cheeks with his hands, and although he had not given much thought to what would happen if they failed to bring about any heirs at all, he discovered that he already knew his thoughts on the matter.

"No, Elizabeth."

"I don't understand," she said. "It is my most important job as your wife."

His smile was full of disbelief. "Elizabeth, please tell me that you do not believe me to share your bed each night for the sole purpose of bringing about an heir."

She shifted under his gaze. "Perhaps… not only, but it must be your primary goal."

"I may be revealing too much of myself to my wife now who believes only the best of me, but no, Elizabeth. Of course it is a part of it, but I am a much more selfish creature than that. If, three years from now, you are still not headed toward confinement, what do you think would happen?"

She pulled her bottom lip in her mouth and eyed the road ahead of them, her voice small. "I will have failed you."

"No," he replied, resolute in his tone. "You will not have failed me. If it is not within God's plan for us to have children, it is no more your fault than it would be mine. Do you want to have children?"

She squeezed him closer. "Very much."

"I'm glad for I feel the same. Are you truly worried that we could not accomplish having any?"

"No. It concerned me that you may be concerned," she replied. "Marrying me may have had many disadvantages, but I have no suspicion that lack of children should be one of them."

"I agree. And, should we, in spite of this, not be able to have any children, there are plenty who are in need of a loving home. Would you love our children any less if they chose us through a different path in life?"

Elizabeth, in awe of her husband, surrounded him with her arms. "Had I known you to be so kind and lovely, I would have kissed you during the first ball we attended together."

She need not have answered his question for her wishes were obvious.

Darcy grinned, rubbing her back with his hands. "So if, three or five years from now, we have not succeeded in this matter, would you wish to stop spending the night with me?"

"No." She hid her face in his shirt as she hugged him, and her voice was muffled. "I would always wish to love you and be loved by you."

Darcy kissed her neck and squeezed her to him, for the depth of his emotions knew no words, but that didn't stop him from trying.

"That is all I want," he whispered. "That is all I will ever want."

The rest of their walk in the forest passed with teasing and laughter, discussions about their families and little stories from ballrooms. When they reached Debden Hall fifteen minutes before three o'clock, Mr. Neil heard their laughter before he could see them, and he turned away his eyes when his master and mistress appeared in a most inappropriate embrace. Mrs. Darcy had a most extraordinary effect on his master, but, like all the other employees and servants, the coachman was grateful for it.

Back in the carriage, Elizabeth snuggled close to her husband who wrapped an arm around her. Tired but content, they held each other in the cold of the winter, admiring the passing scenery and stealing kisses from each other. It was a lovely day.

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A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'll stop trying to predict how many scenes these characters will insist on. Thank you for your kind words and patience.