Chapter 3 - Thanks for the feedback!

GS

The next morning was frosty and still. Elizabeth woke before her sisters, so she decided to put on her boots and watch the sunrise from a walk in the fields around Longbourn. She quietly went down the stairs, hearing the shuffling of the housekeeper, Hill as she built up the fire in the hearth.

"Good morning, Hill," Elizabeth said.

"Miss Elizabeth, you are up early. Would you care for tea or coffee?"

"No, thank you. I'm going to tramp around outside for a bit."

Hill frowned. "Do bring your shawl or coat. It's a frosty morn and you don't want to catch a chill."

Elizabeth appreciated Hill's concern. "I shall. Thank you."

"Aye, I've some mealy apples if you'd like to give them to the horses."

"Oh, yes. Thank you. That would be very nice."

Hill disappeared to the kitchen and returned with a small basket of browning apples.

"Here's a toasty scone for ye as well."

Elizabeth's chest warmed with affection for Hill as she wrapped her oldest, but thickest shawl around her and stepped into her mud-flecked boots.

She was pleased to go out into the fresh air and another Longbourn morning. Her favorite moments were when she had the landscape all to herself and no one could interrupt her thoughts.

The sun was just starting to rise, and dramatic red and purple lines streaked across the sky as she made her way outside and to the pastures.

Frost glistened on the morning grass and her breath puffed around her. The two horses had been let out by the grooms, and they clamored to the fence to greet her, their breath coming in powerful plumes of air. Although she was not a great rider, they did recognize her as a bringer of treats and gentle pets.

She let herself inside the pasture and stood amongst them as they nosed her curiously. "Silly creatures, let me give you the apples instead of stealing them from my basket."

She divided the first apple amongst them, and they crunched away contentedly when she noticed a rider coming across a distant field.

Who might that be?

Elizabeth wondered if she could disappear inside before he arrived, but the rider had almost certainly seen her and was coming her way. She noticed the tall, dark beaver hat and coat. Was it Bingley? He was coming from the direction of Netherfield.

But, alas, no.

As the rider came closer, she saw it was not Bingley's fair complexion, but rather the dark features and serious expression of Mr. Darcy. She cringed. Why on earth was he visiting this early hour? Why was he visiting at all?

His superfine riding jacket was clean and impeccable and even his boots were glossy. Why did he not collect dirt like everyone else? Elizabeth drew her shawl around herself and wished she had chosen a nicer one. She might be mistaken for a washerwoman in the one she'd chosen.

"Miss Elizabeth," Darcy said and bowed as he slowed his horse. The Longbourn horses pricked their ears curiously at his strange horse.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, unsmiling. Her tone was barely civil, but she did not care. "What brings you to Longbourn this early morning?"

"Forgive me for the early hour. I am delivering a message from Netherfield for your sister, Miss Jane."

"And you are delivering it personally? How thoughtful." She was aware of how cold her voice sounded despite her words. But it had been her morning alone, and he—-Mr. Darcy, of all people—-had interrupted it.

However, she noted his coat fit him well. Very well. It obviously had been cut for him by a talented tailor. Of course it had been, he was Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. The cut flattered his broad shoulders and slim hips. She made her eyes elsewhere.

"You are," his eyes fell over her worn shawl, "…doing chores?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I am taking a morning walk and feeding the horses apples," she said impatiently.

He nodded."Did you enjoy the Netherfield ball?"

"I did, thank you." Elizabeth was caught off guard by his question. She remembered dancing with him and her face grew warm again. "It's always nice to see so many people enjoying themselves. And did you?"

"It was perfectly adequate, but I'm not one for loud, boisterous gatherings. Your family seemed to enjoy it, however."

She narrowed her eyes at him. Of course her family enjoyed it because they were loud and boisterous.

Elizabeth exhaled with more force than she meant. "Mr. Darcy, I'd be happy to take the letter from you and deliver it to my sister, if you please."

She certainly didn't need to be standing there being judged. He had already found her barely tolerable. She was certain she fell short of that now.

He blinked. "Of course," his gloved hand reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a small letter.

Darcy dismounted and walked to her, reins in hand. Somehow he seemed taller than she remembered.

"I regret to tell you that our Netherfield party is returning to town immediately. Bingley has business and his sisters have grown tired of the country. Their carriages are leaving now and I will catch up to them shortly."

"Oh," Elizabeth said, surprised. "I am sorry to hear that. We will miss Mr. Bingley's presence, and his sisters, of course. Does he have plans to return soon?"

Darcy's mouth was tight, unreadable. "I have no idea."

His answer caught her off guard, but surely the letter explained it all. She took the letter and placed it in her skirts. "Tell Mr. Bingley we will be pleased to read his message."

Darcy turned back to his horse. "It is from Caroline Bingley," he said after he pulled himself into the saddle.

"Pardon?"

"The letter is from Miss Bingley, not her brother."

"I see," she said again and felt foolish. "I wish your party safe travels."

"Yes," Darcy said, tipping his cap to her. "I will pass on your solicitations to Mr. Bingley." His voice seemed to rise on the last words, which irritated her. He bowed again and turned his horse.

"Goodbye, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, but he had already urged on his horse and was cantering away. She sighed. "Farewell and good riddance."

He did not look back.