Onwards we go, my loves. Your remarks are forever welcome.

Chapter 2

In the privacy of her own mind, Elizabeth liked to view herself as a walking homage to spring and its verdant constituents; any clearing was her dancing field, any forest her personal walk-in music box, any mountain her regimen for fresh breath and rosy cheeks. Where nature's expanses made her feel invincible, lunching with high society, she mulled, was the most stifling thing in existence. Watching her company with an absentminded, somewhat rueful smile, they reminded her of trophy birds wasting in golden cages; and she had seen her father's modest tenants rejoice in scarcity and smile as though their riches piled up to the heavens. Within such an assembly, even Charles Bingley's natural cheer was reduced to awkward, self-effacing humor, rekindled only at Elizabeth's encouragement, or, more so, by any mention of Jane's name. As he praised her for her solicitude in attending to her sister and invited her to extend her stay, Elizabeth noted how bright his eyes shone at the idea of securing hers and Jane's company, mostly Jane's. His candid character contrasted so gapingly with that of Mr. Darcy that Elizabeth found herself wondering…and pondering…until dessert was placed in front of her and, looking up, she accidentally locked eyes with Mr. Darcy.

'It seems like it will rain,' she said hastily, feigning detached confidence, 'perhaps you ought to shelter your horse.'

Darcy nodded silently, studying her for a moment longer before dropping his eyes to his plate.

Elizabeth finished up quickly and excused herself, tapping her forehead on the way to Jane's room.

'What happened, Lizzy? You look vaguely flustered.' Jane said softly, lifting herself up to a sitting position.

'I was just thinking how strange it was for fate to bring Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy together in friendship when I looked at him by mistake.'

'At who?'

'Mr. Darcy!' she laughed. 'I am lost if it doesn't rain.'

Jane looked at her confusedly.

'No,' Elizabeth said, drawing aside the curtains to inspect the sky and finding that the raincloud she had spotted in the morning was mercifully closing up on Netherfield, 'I needn't worry. I was simply making a strangely timed observation.'

'Lizzy, I am not sure if it is my headache or if you are not making any sense.'

'You are right, forgive me,' she rushed to her side, 'let me change the water for your wet cloth. Do you need help with anything? Are you hungry for some porridge?'

'No, not at the moment. Why don't you get some fresh air before it begins to rain? You needn't hold back on my account, I feel like a little nap.'

Elizabeth kissed her forehead.

'Rest up. I'll bring you up something to eat when I get back.'

Elizabeth walked gingerly down the stairs, glad to find her way to the vestibule deserted, and stepped outside, tightening her scarf against the wind. It was not long before she noticed Darcy standing by the stalls, feeding his horse and his hound.

As Elizabeth walked in their direction, Darcy gave her a sharp sideways glance.

'Did you come to verify your advice was being followed, Miss Elizabeth?'

'Yes, and stretch my legs, in so doing.'

'What commendable organization.'

Elizabeth smiled.

'It is a lovely horse.'

'Do you ride?'

'No, no indeed. I have not the confidence to attempt it, and I expect to be overcome by gravity if I do.'

'I assume you prefer walking?'

'I am very fond of walking. Riding must bring its own type of enjoyment, given that one does not lose balance, but I wouldn't put it past you. I am quite content with my legs.'

Darcy stepped outside the stable, shutting the door, and folded his arms across his chest.

'How is your sister?'

'Improved, though not enough to walk yet.'

'You seem rather close.'

'Yes, I daresay we are. Do you have siblings, Mr. Darcy?'

'A younger sister.'

'Oh, telling her about Georgiana? You should see how he dotes on her!' Bingley said, walking up to join them, 'Darcy, did you lock to stable? Looks like windy rain is upon us tonight.'

'I did.'

'A little angel, Georgiana is. I am quite fond of her.' Bingley smiled. 'Perhaps you will meet her on a future occasion.' He looked at Darcy, whose face was inexpressive.

'Do you have any preferences for dinner, Miss Elizabeth? The cook suggested beef, or do you prefer poultry?'

'Either one is perfect.'

'Very good, then. Do let me know if your sister needs anything, really, do not hesitate!'

He ran back to the house and ducked inside.

Elizabeth looked after him with a smile.

'Mr. Bingley is very kind.'

'Perhaps to a fault,' remarked Darcy.

Elizabeth accepted the challenge.

'How do you define fault, Mr. Darcy?'

'Like you define shallow characterization in romances.'

A brief look of surprise passed over her.

'My prescribed remedy of rebellion against authorial intent would hardly apply in Mr. Bingley's case.'

'On the contrary,' Darcy said, stooping down to fix his hound's leash, 'the authorial intent, the plot, can be equated to societal expectations. All single men in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife, as they say. He ought to liberate himself from needing to meet such standards at the cost of his own felicity.'

'You mean, perhaps, that he should follow your example?'

'And what example is that?'

'You seem to prefer your own company.'

Darcy drew up to his feet, dusting off his gloveless hands.

'I am not against the institution of marriage, Miss Elizabeth, but the social filters that build up to it are purely theatrical; performance work, and I am not disposed to partake.'

Elizabeth quieted at his response.

'I won't hold you back from your walk any longer, though I suggest you do not tarry.'

The distant rumble of thunder overhead pressed his point as he disappeared inside the house.

As she continued her exercise, curiosity, she found, was a pestering specter.