NOTES: Lizzy's POV. Longer chapter, super sweet and funny ❤️ I had fun writing this chapter, if you can't tell lol
Also, my school's play opens tonight— wish me luck! Hopefully after this (and after finals next week, bleh) I will be able to return to a semi-normal posting schedule. Until then, Enjoy, and please leave a comment if you like it :) it always cheers me up to read y'all's thoughts
~Vinny
The cobblestone walkways had always been uneven. The stones jutted up like teeth, ingrown and jagged, bucking against each other, fighting for dominance. In between them, scraggly moss grew, making the path along the well-worn street even more hazardous than the road where horse hooves pounded leaves into pulp, and pulp into dust. And the mist certainly wasn't helping.
Thankfully, Lizzy had been walking on these uneven stones her whole life; her heels could sense every schism in the rock, every jutting slope that sprung unexpectedly up into her way.
William, however, had been walking on these stones for about five minutes. He had already fallen twice.
"Is your leg alright?" she asked quietly, as they passed by a group of nuns.
He grimaced, glancing down at the spot where discolored flesh showed through the thin cotton of his trousers, presenting a nasty bruise. "Quite," William said, and tried to correct his limp.
Lizzy shook her head at him. She reached out her hands, gesturing for him to give her the daunting stack of books he carried in both hands. "Here," she half-smiled, "I can carry those for a spell."
Quickly, William snatched his hands away. The book on top of the stack wobbled dangerously.
"No, no!" he said, cheerfully, "It's no trouble! I.. don't want you to be hampered."
She bit her lip. "They just.. look rather heavy, is all."
It was true— William was clearly struggling under the stack of at least six dense novels, and three flighty paperbacks that kept threatening to flee at any hint of wind. He grunted, adjusting his grip. He shot Lizzy a quick, thin smile. "Precisely," he said. "I don't want you to have to carry them."
Lizzy watched him duck his chin and look up through the fog with a scattered feeling of deja vu. With the blinding whiteness of the fog all around reflecting off of William's smooth skin, he looked bathed in moonlight. Youthful. Perfect as a circle.
In the bookshop, the lamp light had turned the walls into an ambery gold paradise of paper leaf and wood shelves. She had been a patron for years, letting herself get lost in the stacks of pamphlets for almost all of her adolescence… But with William, it turned into another world. Bright, and cozy, there didn't seem to be room in the cramped aisles for William's awkwardly large shoulders, and his elbows kept bumping into her. They had discussed novels of the day, laughed over nothing, and at one point, Lizzy was pretty sure he had leaned in close enough to smell her hair. It had been wonderful.
Now, back in the cold embrace of the fog, the chilling sensation of feeling things stayed with her.
She put her hand on the space where his shoulder blade began, and felt it stiffen under her fingers. His back turned away from her, and she was forced to drop her hand. William was looking at her.
Gently, Lizzy took the stack of books from him.
"You paid for them," she breathed, grinning, "Insisted on paying, actually. So ergo… I carry them."
William smiled, letting go with reluctant fingers. "Fine," he said. "But you must come to Netherfield and discuss the reading once you've finished. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes, that sounds.. perfect," Lizzy hummed, barely resisting the impulse to drop the books completely and wrap her arms around William. He seemed to feel a similar way, leaning imperceptibly closer to her as she held her breath…
"Lizzy," he began to whisper in the fog.
"Yes?" She whispered back.
"Lizzy," William said, "I do believe.. I like courting you."
She let all the air in her lungs out into a laugh. "You are ridiculous," she giggled, briefly removing a hand in order to pat his cheek, "And ridiculously charming."
It may have been the compliment, or it may have been her touch, but William's face bloomed into an attractive shade of pink. She found… she liked making him blush.
"You are staring at me," he eventually pointed out, after an embarrassingly lengthy pause.
Lizzy looked away quickly, stumbling over her words a little. "Well, um, yes. I- I suppose I am."
When she managed to glance once more in his direction, William was grinning broadly, his dimples on full display. Lizzy couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, and she nudged him playfully with her shoulder. "Oh, hush."
"What?" William asked innocently, still grinning, "I didn't say anything!"
"You were thinking something," she tried to fix her face into a serious look— she didn't succeed. "Stop it."
William hit her with a wide-eyed expression of feigned shock. He clutched his chest. "You wish for me to stop thinking about how lucky I am to be beside you, simply breathing your air and basking in your presence?!"
He sighed, dramatically. "Well, I guess I could stop…"
"Oh don't you dare," Lizzy laughed, and threaded her fingers through his.
The smile that overtook his face was brighter than the sun could ever hope to be, and Lizzy found herself as dazzled as Icarus, drawn to the warmth radiating from William's crinkled-up eyes.
And just like Icarus, her fall came soon after.
Literally.
She had been so captivated by his smile that the edge of Lizzy's foot caught on an uprooted slice of rock, and she pitched forward, yelping loudly as she hit the ground.
"LIZZY!" She heard William cry, right as she instinctively braced for impact.
He was too late by a millisecond— Lizzy's hands collided with the rough cobblestones, trying to catch the rest of her, and the wrist buckled under her weight. Her head was turned, eyes squeezed shut, when a hand grabbed her cheek just before it hit the stone.
She opened her eyes. Her hands were stinging. William was on the ground next to her, holding her cheek in an uncomfortable firm grip.
"My dearest," he breathed, eyes darting over her. "Are you alright?"
"Y-yes," Lizzy managed, ignoring the fact he had just called her my dearest, "I'm fine. Just a little fall, is all it was."
William closed his mouth and nodded, then gently helped Lizzy to her feet. When he took his hand away from where he had caught her head, the raw skin of his palm made a painful ripping sound. He grimaced, and Lizzy wondered how bad the mark must look.
Footsteps began approaching from behind the mist, but Lizzy was too stunned to look at anything but blank ground, too shaken to listen to anything but William's voice
"From now on," he said, one hand on her shoulder, the other lingering behind her back, as if scared she would topple over without him, "We are taking my carriage."
Lizzy laughed, dryly, shortly, the sound coming out as a trembling, frightened noise.
"I'm serious!" William said, patting her, looking rattled as well. "We will ride in the carriage, and not have to worry about these dangerous roa—"
"WHAT," a booming voice cried from down the street, "IS GOING ON HERE?!"
William's shoulders squared, and he moved closer to Lizzy, his body still on guard. Unfortunately, that did more harm than good— because out of the fog, a red-faced and fuming mother came stomping.
Behind her, Mr. Bennet sauntered unhurriedly over, hands in his pockets.
"Hullo, Mr. Darcy," he smiled, green eyes somewhere between laughing and deadly serious, "Please take your hands off my daughter."
William snatched his hands away. Lizzy could see his terrified look out of the corner of her eye; to most people though, she knew he would appear as stone-faced as ever.
Mr. Bennet seemed to understand though, and his eyes lost their fire. "Thank you," he smiled at William.
Mrs. Bennet, unfortunately, had her mind set on not being placated.
"YOU!" She screeched, lunging forward to rip Lizzy away from him, "YOU VILE MAN!"
"What?" Lizzy and William both said in shock, both drowned out by Mrs. Bennet's continued screaming.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! YOU! MR. DARCY, TAKING! ADVANTAGE! OF MY! DAUGHTER! In the fog! Did you think we can't see you, is that it?! WELL I CAN SEE JUST FINE, YOU SHAMELESS BRUTE!"
At every exclamation, Mrs. Bennet drove her point home by whacking the poor man with her purse. William put his hands over his head, trying not to be caught in the eye with a button.
"Madam!" He cried, helplessly trying to stave off the barrage, "Madam, please! I was only helping Miss Lizzy to her feet!"
That gave Mrs. Bennet a moment's pause. Then she glared harder, and smacked him again with the purse. "Oh yes?!" she asked, rhetorically, "Then what is that hand-shaped mark on her cheek, HMM?! You HIT my BABY GIRL— you're causing a scandal, sir! A SCANDAL! I let you into my house, I— WELL NEVER AGAIN! YOU HEAR ME, MR. DARCY?! NEVER!"
Thank God that Mrs. Bennet had gone shopping earlier that week. Her purse was currently empty, save three coins no bigger than the pad of a thumb, and two receipts. Still, it damaged William's poor pride more than physical harm ever could.
Lizzy tried to hold her mother back, hissing at her that she was the one causing a scandal (and indeed they were drawing quite the crowd), but Mrs. Bennet only really halted when her husband intervened.
"I think that's enough, my dear," he said calmly, laying a hand across Mrs. Bennet's clenched fist. "Let the lovesick scoundrel go."
Mrs. Bennet snorted, dropped her purse, and puffed herself up to full height (about the size of an ambitious tree stump). She gave poor William a look that would curdle milk, then turned around.
"Come on, Lizzy!" She called, marching ahead, "We're going home!"
"But— But mama!" Lizzy was horrified at the scene they had caused. William looked as ashamed as she felt, but he had no reason to be. It was her family. Her responsibility.
"Mama, listen to me," she said, catching her mother just before she marched herself out of sight. "Mr. Darcy did nothing wrong. He caught me from falling— he was being a gentleman!"
Behind her, Mr. Bennet murmured his assent. From somewhere in the messy crowd of people, Mrs. Long's voice called out.
"She's right, Fanny!" The matron's voice called from the mist, "I saw it— the nice young man was just making sure our Lizzy was alright!"
"Yeah," another voice, gruffer, agreed, "He didn't do nuffin' wrong, really. 'Part from bein' clumsy."
A few more voices spoke out after that, each one admitting they saw William helping her up, that he was clearly smitten, and that couldn't Fanny Bennet see that a bloke like him would wet his trousers before harming a fly?
All the while, as words were flying over his head, William had his own head bowed, stooping to pick up the books, which had tumbled from Lizzy's arms when she fell. He handed them back to her without a word. Lizzy mouthed a silent thank you, too embarrassed to speak out loud.
"W-well!" a flustered Mrs. Bennet eventually exclaimed, "I- I stand corrected, then. My deepest apologies, Mr. Darcy."
William inclined his head, not meeting her eyes.
"We'll see you tomorrow then, sir," Lizzy said carefully, watching him, "At church. I believe.. we may have some time to converse then, I believe."
This time, William lifted his face and there was a glimmer of light in his eyes. He half-smiled. "Alright then," he answered softly, "I will be there to escort you to the church tomorrow afternoon."
She smiled, fully conscious of the fact their conversation was on public display. "Alright. See you then."
"Good," William nodded, "Yes. See you then."
There was a short silence, in which someone coughed. Then Lizzy turned slowly, allowed herself a wink as brief as a fleeting comet, and strode off into the fog. The air was cold and damp against her skin, but somehow her face continued to radiate warmth all the way home, and up to her bedroom, where she threw herself on the mattress (startling the family cat, who had taken refuge from the weather) and smothered her face in a pillow.
It was going to be a long wait until tomorrow's service. Until then, she would be haunted by his smile, pestered by his laugh, and torn to pieces by the way he said her name like prayer.
Amen indeed.