AN: I am so sorry it took so long. I have lots of excuses, but mainly I was trying to make Elizabeth do something that she didn't want to do. We sat down and had a good chat, and this is the result. This is very much not beta'd, so forgive the mistakes.
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"Elizabeth, when are you going to try to give Mr Darcy his kiss?"
Elizabeth gave a great sigh, "I do not know. I do not want to. What would Mr Darcy think? What if I am seen? What would Mr Darcy do?"
"Why do you mind what Mr Darcy thinks? You have never sought his good opinion."
Alone in her room, Elizabeth paced back and forth. Never had her room felt so small before. It had been two days since that fateful challenge. And it had rained every second of it. Neither Elizabeth nor her sisters had ventured outside. Most of the time Elizabeth had found herself in her room. Her sisters were downstairs, continuing their daily activities as if nothing were different. She figured for them nothing was different. They did not have to risk their reputations on a silly dare. Elizabeth sighed again. She did not have to risk her reputation either. She could rescind her acceptance of the challenge. Normally, with players who were decent humans, she would be granted a reprieve. But not with Lydia. She would demand that Elizabeth do something in recompense, and Elizabeth could guarantee that the something would be twenty times worse than the original challenge. She would not be cleared in her own mind either. She had never backed down from a challenge before, and she wasn't going to now. It may be her pride that was leading her, but even Mr Darcy agreed that pride was not failure in character.
Elizabeth continued to trace a path from one wall to the other. "I could try to contrive a way to get Mr Darcy alone at the ball in two days. He despises dancing, maybe I would be able to accost him during a particularly busy set." Elizabeth snorted. There was no way that she would be able to accost Mr Darcy. She was sure that there would not be a moment when he was not surrounded by someone, even being the most despised man in Meryton. Elizabeth had noticed that at every event that he had attended, he never left the event. He never took a moment for himself, either stepping out for fresh air, or finding relief in a way that you did not mention in polite company. So what was she to do? She could not kiss him in public either. She would be ruined, ostracized from polite company. Through no fault of their own, her sisters would be ruined as well. Their marriage prospects were not very good to begin with, a ruined sister would be the final nail in the coffin of those same prospects. And then even a white knight of Mr Bingley's caliber would not be able to save them. Elizabeth knew that Jane was the only sister who would have a chance at a white knight. There was never going to be a white knight in her future. Only people as good and kind as Jane deserved the fairy tale ending.
Elizabeth paused her pacing at the window when she heard a gust of wind push the rain against the glass window. She may dislike being forced to stay inside, but she did love the look and smell of rain.
Elizabeth sighed and again started to pace. She always thought better in motion, especially outside. But she could not go outside.
"Why not? What is stopping me? We have no plans today. I own an umbrella and a good rain cape." The thought was parent to the deed. Elizabeth ran downstairs, grabbed her cape and umbrella, and was out the door before her mother or sisters noticed that she had come down. Elizabeth slipped outside for an hour of freedom.
Thirty minutes later Elizabeth sat underneath a tree regretting her decision. Her walk had started off with such promise. She was able to walk along the lane in complete solitude. Her soul was soothed even as her feet got damp. She had borrowed her father's rain boots. She did not look like a proper young lady, but there was no one to see her. And that was the problem. There was no one out to help her now that she had slipped down the side of a hill, twisting her ankle, and covering herself in mud and the accompanying wet that comes with it.
"I hope Mama is right and that I do not catch cold and die. What a wretched way to die: cold, wet, and alone." The tree that she had limped over to was big, but, as it was the end of Autumn, most of the leaves had fallen off the branches. It provided the bare minimum of cover, but even a little covering was better than nothing. She was not using her umbrella because she had broken it in her tumble down the hill. "At least I had not made it far from Longbourn. Hopefully, within the next few hours, they will notice that I am missing and come and find me. I just have to survive a few hours being cold and wet. Easier said than done." For what felt like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, Elizabeth sighed again, "This is going to be a long few hours."
After what felt like millennia, but was most likely just a few minutes, Elizabeth heard hoofbeats. At first she was sure she had just imagined it. The rain had not let up and hearing anything over the sound of the rain falling on the muddy ground seemed an impossible task. But the sound continued to beat and started to become louder. Elizabeth tried to pull herself up to a standing position, tried to call out, tried to wave her broken umbrella, anything to attract attention. But as she put weight on the twisted ankle, she screamed in pain and collapsed back into the mud under the tree.
The scream must have been loud enough, for the hoofbeats stopped and Elizabeth heard a voice over the tumult of the rain and the racing of her heart. A few moments later, she heard her name being called from what sounded like underwater. Her vision was starting to go dark because of the pain. The last thing she saw before the world went dark was a man dismounting from a beautiful white horse. Elizabeth whispered, "My white knight," and then all went black.
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Elizabeth noticed the cold. Why was she cold? She remembered pacing in her room. She was trying to figure out… what was she trying to figure out? She was seated on something cold and hard, but her upper body was reclining on something warm… hard but comfortable.
Elizabeth knew that she should open her eyes. She knew that all her questions would be answered if she would open her eyes, but for some reason she did not want to have the answers. She wanted to stay warm and safe in these arms for as long as she could. ARMS?!
Elizabeth's eyes shot open. She was looking into the eyes of her… did she really call Mr Darcy her white knight? She closed her eyes and groaned.
"Miss Elizabeth, how do you feel? Do you know where you are? What is the name of the queen?" Mr Darcy sounded as if he was panicking.
"Cold and wet. At the bottom of Oakham Mount. Charlotte. I would ask how your day has been, but in this weather I can only imagine. Not that I am not grateful, but whatever are you doing out in this weather?"
"Miss Elizabeth, I believe that you have hit your head harder than I originally thought. Do you happen to know if you have lost consciousness more than once? How long have you been here? What happened?"
Elizabeth tried to contain her laughter, but after the last hour and sitting in the unrelenting rain, preceded by the excruciating pain of twisting her ankle, Elizabeth had no self possession. She released a laugh. Luckily it did not come out as a hysterical giggle, but her true throaty laugh. But that did not seem to matter to Mr Darcy. He looked at Elizabeth as if she had truly lost her wits.
At her laugh Mr Darcy's haughty mask fell into place, "Miss Elizabeth I do not find amusement in this situation. I need to find somewhere to take you where you can dry off and warm yourself."
Elizabeth was too tired to take offense at his tone of voice. "I believe that you are in more of a panic than I am, and I am the one who did just swoon… Oh bother, I am turning into my mother. Soon I will need to buy my own smelling salts," Elizabeth threw Darcy a cheeky grin.
Darcy did not seem to share in her mirth. "Miss Elizabeth, I do not believe you know where you are at the present moment, or even who I am."
Elizabeth tossed him another smile, "Since you have said my name no less than four times, I can only assume that you do not believe that I even know who I am. I can assure you, Mr Darcy, that I know that I am Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. You are Mr Darcy of Pemberley of ten thousand pounds a year. I am currently cold and wet because I have been sitting for at least half an hour under this tree because I was not watching where I was going and twisted my ankle falling down the bottom of Oakham Mount. And the present queen is Queen Charlotte, God bless the queen. Do you have any other questions for me or might we follow your suggestion and figure a way out from under this tree to somewhere warm and dry?"
Darcy could not help but release a chuckle at Elizabeth's speech. Shaking his head at her impertinence he addressed the injury, "You said that you twisted your ankle. Might I be permitted to feel for breaks? We need to determine if you might be able to walk on it."
Elizabeth nodded her agreement but could not help refrain from gasping when Darcy lifted her skirt to her calf and started to untie her boots. She could feel the heat radiating off her as Darcy gave her a sideways glance when he saw that she was wearing her father's boots. "They protect my feet from getting wet better than my own," Elizabeth defended herself.
"That may be true, but I have no doubt that these boots are the cause of your slip down the mount and your resulting injury." Darcy was trying to keep Elizabeth's mind off of his examination of her ankle. From the bruising and swelling that had already occurred, Darcy was fairly certain that Elizabeth had a broken ankle not just a sprain. If he did not get her out of the cold and seen by a doctor, she might well lose full function of her foot. He knew that would be devastating to anyone who enjoyed the outdoors as much as his Elizabeth did. His Elizabeth?
After several minutes of painful poking and prodding, Darcy declared her ankle to be fractured. "You will need to have it wrapped and have it supported for several weeks. Most likely you will be told to not put any pressure on it. That means no more walks, or dances, for at least three weeks, if not more. We need to have a doctor examine it to truly know how bad the fracture is and how long your recovery will be."
Elizabeth knew that now was not the time to be disappointed that she would miss the Netherfield ball, but she could not help the twinge of sadness as she thought of the beautiful ball gown Jane was going to let her borrow that she would no longer have the opportunity to wear.
While she was wrapped up in her self pity, Darcy had removed his cravat. Interrupting her revery he asked, "Do you see a straight stick anywhere close by? We need to find something that can add support to your ankle when it is wrapped." After a few moments of looking around, Darcy found a stick that was adequate for their needs. Taking a few moments, he wrapped Elizabeth's ankle with the stick lending support. Elizabeth was sure that she had imagined his hands lingering on her foot, ankle, and leg a little longer than was necessary.
Breaking the silence between them, Darcy asked, "Do you ride, Miss Elizabeth?"
"Not well, but I can sit in the saddle and not fall off, if that is what you are getting at. But I am unsure as to how I can climb into the saddle on that giant you call a horse."
"Let me bring Goliath," at this Darcy gave her a cheeky grin that caused something in her stomach to pleasantly clench, "to you and then we will address the problem of ascending to his saddle."
Was Darcy flirting with her? Elizabeth could not believe that the stoic Darcy would unbend enough to flirt with a country nobody who was barely tolerable. And when had she started dropping the Mr and thinking of him as Darcy? If he was flirting, could she steal a kiss? On the cheek, of course. Elizabeth started to think deviously. This whole uncomfortable episode could have a happy outcome if she could only think of a way to steal her kiss before they arrived at Longbourn.
Without any warning, Darcy stood up and strode over to his horse. He started to adjust the straps on the saddle. After a few moments Darcy pulled the saddle off of Goliath. He then led the colossal white horse over to where Elizabeth was resting. Darcy shocked Elizabeth by grasping her wrists and pulling her to a standing position without warning.
"Miss Elizabeth, you will sit on the horse while I walk beside it and guide it back towards Longbourn. For that to happen, you will need to mount the horse." Darcy looked around as if to find something. "As there are no mounting blocks anywhere that I see, I will beg your leave to lift you onto Goliath's back." Darcy gave Elizabeth another sideways grin. She was again shocked to find that Mr Darcy was flirting, and that she was not unaffected.
Elizabeth shyly nodded her head allowing Darcy to clasp her about the waist, "Put your hands on my shoulders," he instructed. Elizabeth expected Darcy to lift her immediately. She was surprised when he lingered, causing causing them to rest in an almost embrace which was quickly losing the almost.
"Mr Darcy, as much as I have been enjoying our little tête-à-tête, I feel that we should start on our way lest we drown in all this rain." Elizabeth's words seemed to jar Darcy out of whatever he was thinking and he quickly lifted her onto Goliath's back. After ascertaining that she was balanced, which involved more touches to her legs than was strictly necessary in her opinion, Darcy grasped the reins and started off towards Longbourn.
For all the conversing they did while Elizabeth was under the tree, Darcy was surprisingly quiet on the walk back. Elizabeth was not sure what to make of him. For the majority of her acquaintance with him he had been quiet and seemed aloof. But for the fifteen minutes he was taking care of her, he was open, thoughtful, and kind. Which Darcy was he? Logic told her that he was the man that he showed the majority of the time: cold and aloof. But there was a tiny part of her, that seemed to be growing, that felt that the kind man from under the tree was the true man. That was a man she would not mind giving, well stealing, a kiss.
Before she knew it, they were back at Longbourn. Darcy paused at the top of the drive looking to see if someone would approach them looking for Elizabeth. "I did not tell anyone that I was going out. The rain was not coming down quite this hard when I left and I had thought that it would stop before long," Elizabeth explained when she sensed his distress at the lack of witnesses to their arrival.
Shrugging his shoulders, something Elizabeth never thought she would see him do, Darcy walked the horse as close to the door as possible. Releasing the reins, Darcy approached Elizabeth and told her to grip his shoulders and slide down the side of the horse. For the first time that Darcy could remember, Elizabeth did exactly as she was told. She landed standing rather closer to him than polite society would allow. He told himself that his hands went to her waist in order to add stability. Not that he wanted to have the feeling of holding her in his arms again.
Elizabeth was sure that this would likely be the only opportunity to steal her kiss. She knew that if she was going to have to kiss him she would rather kiss the Darcy from under the tree than his proud and indifferent evil twin. With a deep breath, Elizabeth went up on her toes. She felt Darcy support her and even lift her as she tilted her head. She saw Darcy's eyes go round in shock, but just for a moment. He then slowly leaned down and she got her kiss.
Elizabeth got lost in the sensations of her first kiss. His lips were warm and tender. His arms seemed to cradle her. She realized that she felt safe, and had felt safe with him the entire time. Just as she started to pull him even closer she heard the door start to open. Not wanting to be caught, Elizabeth shoved Darcy away from her, forgetting that she had no balance on her own. He stumbled backwards as she started to fall to the ground with a yelp of pain. Faster than she thought possible, Darcy was there catching her up into his arms and carrying her into the front hallway where Jane was waiting for her, blessedly alone.
As Darcy placed her on her feet in the house he explained to Jane all that had happened. "She needs to be warmed and dry and seen by a doctor as soon as possible."
Elizabeth hissed in pain when she placed her injured foot on the ground. In the haze of pain she heard Jane instruct a maid to send a note as quick as possible to Mr Jones the apothecary, and then to get a warm bath ready in Elizabeth's room. She then assured Darcy that Elizabeth would be well taken care of. She heard Jane offer their hospitality, but at their mother's shrill call demanding to know what was going on, Darcy politely refused the kind offer and, with one last glance at Elizabeth, he left to go back to Netherfield.