NOTES: Darcy's POV. A very soft and sweet chapter— expect more soon.
Also, for anyone still with questions about WHY the father Darcy doesn't think Lizzy is a gentleman's daughter, re-read the last chapter. He's unwilling to listen, and sees her how Jeff Bezos might see the child of a local mayor. Just because they're the same station on paper doesn't mean they're of the same social mentality. Hope that clears some things up. In regards to the BENNETS, I'll address that very soon— hang tight guys!
Anyway, love y'all, and don't forget to get plenty of sleep! God knows I should have done that last night lol.
enjoy the chapter 🌼
~Vinny
Darcy would later remember: was an uncommonly hot evening when it happened. Right before it all began, he was having a nightmare. Something about swimming through tar— the thick, black oil holding him down as he groped helplessly up at the cloudless sky. He woke up covered in sweat, his legs sticking to his sheets like he was still trapped in the tar pit, and someone shaking his shoulder.
When he saw that 'someone' was Lizzy, his muscles relaxed, and he fell back against the bed spread.
"Lord!" he said, out of breath and with his heart tapping fast against his rib cage. "Lizzy. What're you doing?"
"Waking you up," she said. He couldn't see her face through the blackness, but he could hear her smile through the whispered words. "Tonight we're running away."
"What?!" Darcy sat up straight, fumbling against the sheets as he tried to get a good look at her face. He could just barely see the dim outline, a curved cheek, and the ghostly silhouette of her grizzly bear locks hanging around her face.
Almost a week ago now, Lizzy had mentioned wanting to run. Wanting to get back to where she came from, to her family and home. Darcy had understood the feeling, but also felt a stab of panic and betrayal when she spoke. That was until it came to light she wanted him to come along.
Truthfully, it sounded like almost paradise. A home where there were plenty of books to read, little places to hide and to catch mice, friendly neighbors that he would actually get to talk to, and (best of all) Lizzy would be there. With him. Lizzy and William, together forever.
Except things were almost never as good as they seemed. He knew that, very well.
But otherwise… she would be sent to an orphanage… He could still talk his father out of it though!... Maybe.
So, torn between fear and hope, Darcy shrank down until his nose was dipping against the covers. "Lizzy… I don't know…"
"Oh come on!" She laughed, though Darcy could sense a desperate note in her voice. "It— William, it has to be now. Please."
"Why?" He had to ask. He knew the answer, but he had to ask.
Her voice got very small, very quickly. "You know why. That man is coming tomorrow an— and he's going to take me away if I don't go. And… I— I'm scared that… the longer I wait, the less chance there is of me ever getting back."
Darcy pinched his eyes closed, then opened them again, and rubbed at the lids with his knuckles. "I could— I could convince father to let you stay— at least a little while longer! Please.. What.. what would be wrong with staying here?" He asked desperately, though he already knew that it was a backhanded question.
Lizzy knew it too, and she didn't answer it. "Come on, William," she just said into the darkness. "You're not happy here either. At least… I think you would be happier with me."
He would. He knew he would. "But still…," he hissed, the terror and guilt coming out as a rasp through his teeth.
"And you—" Her voice caught. In the silence, he could almost hear the way she drew her hands closer to her chest, the way her heart must be drumming against her insides.
"And you can turn back at any time, William," Lizzy whispered, and the warm air carried the sound up to Darcy's chest, pulling at his heartstrings. "I won't blame you for it. You know— I can— I can make it alone." He could see the way her shadow folded up into a straight line; her way of trying to be strong. "But either way… I'm going tonight."
Darcy stared at the place where Lizzy's face must be. His eyes searched for some sign of her smile, her crinkled eyes, any telltale signal that she wasn't being serious. That she wasn't about to leave.
She started to move off the bed. Without thinking, Darcy lurched forward and touched her shoulder.
"Wait."
Lizzy breathed out through her nose, and her head began to shake from side to side. "William, there's no talking me out of th—"
"I'm coming with you."
There was an unbroken silence, choked through with unspoken words and humid breath. Then Lizzy vaulted forward, her warm little body tackling William in a hug. He grunted in surprise as he fell back, but the sound was drowned out by Lizzy whispering, over and over again, "Thankyouthankyouthankyou. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome," Darcy murmured, hugging her back. It felt so good to hold her.
Lizzy's head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. His arms were just the right length to clasp around her waist, feeling the rise and fall of her spine. It was like... he was made to hold her. Like right here was where he was always meant to be.
After too short a time, Darcy felt Lizzy exhale and pull away. By now, his eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dark, and he could see the shimmer of her teeth as she smiled at him.
"Well then," she said, "Ready to go?"
Darcy put a hand on his forehead as he nodded, willing himself not to think about all his doubts. "Ready," he answered. "Just lemme grab my boots."
Lizzy nodded back at him, and before he knew it, Darcy was pushing open his bedroom door to reveal the shadow-infested hallway beyond. It was darker than he would have thought possible. He jumped when he felt a hand slip into his.
"Follow my lead," Lizzy whispered in his ear. "I know the way."
Darcy wasn't sure how she knew his house better than he did, but he was too busy swallowing the lump in his throat to argue. By the tugging of hands and the soft creaking of floorboards, the two snuck their way down the hallway, until moonlight began to squirm in through the cracks in the walls. Lizzy led him past the snow-bank side of the pillared staircase, and down a quiet hall that branched off to the left.
"Servants hall," she said as an explanation.
Darcy bit his lips, thoughtlessly tearing open the dry skin in his worry. He wiped his mouth, and couldn't tell whether or not there was blood. "Lizzy," he whispered through his teeth. "Are.. are we sure no one's awake?"
"Totally sure," she whispered back, squeezing his hand in reassurance. "It's almost TEN! No one's awake at ten."
Just then, the universe decided to prove her wrong.
A door swung open, and candlelight flooded the stone tiles. A maid's dress swished out, and Darcy— acting on pure instinct— flattened himself against the part of the wall that was still untouched by the orangeish, flickering light. Unfortunately, Lizzy's instincts weren't as sharp as his. She yelped.
The dress stopped, and swooshed around stable legs. Shoes scraped on stone. "Who's there?" A high, needling voice asked.
The air was stagnant and crackling with electricity. A bead of sweat ran down Darcy's neck, and he could feel the fear radiating off of Lizzy in waves. He swallowed, and closed his eyes.
"YOUR EMPLOYER," Darcy called out in as deep a voice as he could manage.
Beside him Lizzy jabbed her elbow into his side, probably not on purpose. He jostled her away, holding his breath for an answer.
"Um," the needling maid's voice said, "M-Mr. Darcy? Sir… what—?"
"AM I PAYING YOU TO QUESTION ME?!" He bellowed, torn between the fear-gripped need to keep his voice down, and the knowledge that his father would have no such misconceptions. He coughed a little. Talking this deep hurt his throat.
Still, while the poor maid was fumbling for a reply, he yelled out, "OUT OF MY SIGHT. NOW!"
"Y-yes, Mr. Darcy!" She squeaked in a petrified voice.
Darcy held his breath as he listened to light footsteps scuttling away, and let it out at the same time Lizzy let out her own breath. Hers, she expelled in giggles he could feel on his neck.
"You," she whispered, smothering her explosive laughter by burning her face into his shoulder, "Are entirely ridiculous."
"I saved us, didn't I?" Darcy grinned into the darkness, relief fueling his newfound pride.
Lizzy's softer-than-clouds hair tickled his chin as she nodded. "Yes, you did," he could hear her smirking. "You're my hero, William."
Even though he knew— he knew— she was joking around, William Darcy couldn't stop the flutter in his chest at her words, or the heat rushing to his face. There was something about the way that Lizzy said nice things about them, and meant it, that just… Just… He would do anything for her.
"Come on," Darcy said then, forcing himself to smile. "Let's run away together."
He could see the outline of Lizzy's wild-eyed grin, the one that melded her freckles together into one huge blob of peach and tan on her cheeks, and that almost was enough to dispel the nagging fear inside of him.
Almost.
"Alright!" She agreed, nudging him playfully. "Let's go!"
Lizzy took off running down the hallway. And… really… What choice did Darcy have? He wasn't leaving her behind, no way, no how. In the short time he had known her, Lizzy had become his closest friend… but more than that. She was his everything. He didn't want to leave home, but he wanted to leave her even less.
So instead of telling Lizzy he was afraid— afraid of the dark and the woods, of never finding her home or starving out in the cold… afraid of never seeing his bedroom walls again…
Darcy took in the warm nighttime air, and started after his only friend, as she made her way out of the hallway, and into the moonlight.