Darcy hadn't been able to shake the uneasy feeling that had grown since their arrival in Brighton. The town was livelier than Meryton, with people bustling about on foot or in carriages to their destinations. The women's dresses were of finer quality and the men didn't have mud caked on their boots like they did.
Dismounting, Darcy held onto Lizzie's horse while she dismounted. She didn't seem particularly pleased at the unwanted attention, now that she was in public, and where she looked for all the world to be a young man.
"I don't need you hovering over me. I'm fine. You'll draw too much attention to us." She said in a low voice.
Darcy didn't care. His priority was her safety, and if he had to be a little more overbearing than in the past, then so be it. She could hate him for it. He had no doubt that he was her least favorite person in the world. None of that mattered if no harm came to her.
Not bothering a reply, Darcy jerked his head in the direction of a hotel. They would get settled in and possibly bathe before seeking a meal.
George surveyed the streets, looking hungrier for entertainment than nourishment.
As the trio made their way inside the hotel, Darcy felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Looking over his shoulder, he checked every face in the crowd and any dark corners he could before instinctively putting a protective hand on the small of Elizabeth's back as they ascended the steps into the hotel.
Lizzie sent him a confused and questioning expression once the door had closed behind them.
"Why are you acting so strange all of a sudden?"
"It's nothing." He quipped.
She looked doubtful but didn't press him on the matter.
Darcy stepped up to the front desk and thumbed his hat off his head and let it dangle by the stampede strings.
"Need two rooms. Preferably next to each other." He said in a harsh tone.
Lizzie looked up at him at his change in demeanor. The man at the front desk looked over the small group, his eyes lingering longest on Elizabeth.
"Just the two?" The asked gruffly. Darcy's silence only serviced to gain a grunt of dismal from the man as he procured two sets of keys and set them on the desk. "That'd be six dollars per night. First payment due up front."
Darcy kept his eyes leveled on the man as he dug on hand into his pocket and pulled out the necessary bills.
The hotel worker's expression brightened only slightly before he pushed the keys towards Darcy while at the same time snatching up the bills.
"What be your business here in Brighton, sirs?"
"Just passing through."
"Well there are plenty of diversions here. I'm sure your young companion would be very interested in our more recent attraction. A circus has come into town. Lasso, marksman and even eating competitions. You name it. There are performances by talented men and women in knife throwing and predictions. Many pretty faces too I might add that will ensure the young lad will have a good time."
Darcy picked up the keys and made a grunt un reply before moving towards the staircase leading to where the rooms were located.
"Have a nice stay." Called the man from behind them.
"Why are you being so rude? He was only being polite." Lizzie asked as she had to pick up her pace to follow Darcy's long gait.
"He was only meddling."
Lizzie scoffed, "Don't see how any of what he said was meddling. The circus actually sounds like fun."
"Before you even ask, no. You won't be allowed to go."
"Why not?" Lizzie huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Because I said so." Darcy said automatically as he opened one of the rooms and stepped inside. He had tossed the other to George to let him have free will on whatever he wanted to do while here.
Lizzie stood in the doorway, not entering the room.
"What is with you and your suffocating restrictions? Is this why you're always alone? Because no one can bare to be in such boorish company."
Darcy sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning around to face her.
She was angry with him again. After being frightened to death almost a half a day ago, she was back to her normal stubborn self.
"It's been a long journey. Perhaps you'd like to take advantage of a bath. I need to go see to something and will be back shortly." He stepped around her, making her have to side-step into the room, and he closed the door behind him.
Looking both ways down the hall, Darcy made his way over to Wickham's room and gave a sharp knock.
It opened, revealing a half-dressed George who looked like he was preparing for a quick bath himself.
"I need you to watch her, until I've surveyed the area. Don't let her out of the room and under no circumstances are you to allow anyone inside."
"She could flee through the windows."
"Not unless she wants to break her ankles from the three-story drop. There's no easy way up or down from the window."
"I'm sure you're just over-worrying yourself. She'll be fine."
"Wickham, for once in your life man up and stop being so goddamn flippant. I don't care if it's your way to cope over what happened in the past, but right I need you to be serious."
George nodded silently and went back into his room to retrieve his shirt and slipped it back over his head. He picked up his gun and belt and fastened them around his waist.
Darcy watched his childhood friend station himself in front of Darcy's door.
Feeling a little bit more at ease. He gave a final nod to the man before tracing his way back downstairs.
Elizabeth pulled her hat off and set it down on a chair situated in the corner of the room. Running her hands through her hair, she felt extremely gross from pathetic attempts to wash up on the trail and washing only in a basin. Looking around the room, she found an adjoining one that held a large tub. She tested out the nozzles and after twisting them, a gush of water came out.
Indoor plumbing!
She undressed from her clothes and then unraveled the band around her chest and dug the soap she had gotten from Darcy. Stepping into the tub, she sighed appreciatively at being submerged in hot water. She closed her eyes and let the tension leave her aching muscles.
Elizabeth imagined Jane liking this, especially her mother. It made her want to laugh, thinking about her mother unwilling to leave the tub, but stay in it for hours and hours until her skin ultimately looked shriveled from being in the water for too long.
Slowly going about the task of washing up, Elizabeth allowed her mind to wander to think about Darcy.
Her opinion of him continued to change. Every time she thought she hated him, he'd do something sweet and caring. Every time she thought she could end up liking him, he'd revert back to his old ways of being insufferable.
She lowered her body down further under the water until it covered the top of her head, submerging herself fully.
Why had I said those mean things to him? Why did he not argue with me? Why had he kissed me?
Coming back up to the surface, Elizabeth wiped her face of the access water and rested her head on the back of the tub.
She let out a sigh and tried to think of what she was doing here. Her hands clutched the bar of soap to keep it from getting lost in the water. Holding it up to her nose, she closed her eyes and pictured Darcy. A spontaneous decision to leave the house was suddenly transformed into a journey with two men with so many new experiences. Being held up by robbers, getting drunk, nearly falling to her death off a cliff, and experiencing indoor plumbing and bath.
Somehow, the disappointment of not succeeding in her pain of becoming a bounty hunter was alleviated by all of this. The idea of being alone and traveling in parts of the country where she might've been killed or worse sent a chill down her spine, or maybe that was the water cooling down finally.
Getting out of the tub, Elizabeth dried herself off and looked around. She didn't have extra clothes to spare, thanks to her mother being stingy about her having trousers to begin with. Not desiring to pull on dirty clothes after such a nice bath, she moved to the bedroom and sat down on the bed, still wrapped up in her towel.
She noticed Darcy's bag lying at the foot of the bed on the floor. Her curiosity got the best of her, and with the amount of money he seemed to have, he must have an extra pair of clothes she could borrow.
Bending over, she picked up the saddle bags and set them on her lap. She opened the first and a rolled-up shirt that looked clean. It was a deep dark blue. She continued to look deeper and found something she was sure was an unmentionable before succeeding in finding trousers. As she set the bag back down on the floor where she got it, a piece of paper fell out and fluttered to the ground. She retrieved it and was about to put it into the bag when she flipped it over and saw a young lady, most likely younger than she, with a younger version of Darcy. They were smiling as they stood next to each other, Darcy having a protective hand around her.
Elizabeth felt her heart forget to beat as she stared at the photo a little longer before jamming it back into the bag.
Shuddering, Elizabeth looked at the clothes she had taken from Darcy's bag. She slowly and numbly pulled them on, not bothering to tie the band around her chest to hide herself. For some reason she felt a wave a tiredness and she wanted nothing more than to sleep. Darcy's clothes were too big on her, engulfing her short arms and legs. She nestled herself into the pillows at the top of the bed and closed her eyes, trying to forget the contents of photograph.
Darcy was satisfied, at least for now, that there seemed to be nothing amiss. He hadn't seen any lurking figures around, and when he returned to the hotel and to his room. He found a little annoyed George still standing post in front of Darcy's door.
"She's asleep. Been so for at least ten minutes. Could hear her snoring a few minutes ago."
"Thank you, George." And Darcy really meant it. His "thanks" was also a form of an apology for his words.
George only shrugged, looping his thumbs into the top of his trousers before moving back to his room, trying once more for that bath.
Darcy waited until he saw his friend enter the room before entering his own. Moving as quietly as he could, Darcy stepped inside and closed the door behind him, locking it with a click.
His eyes instantly found Elizabeth, curled up at the top of the bed in what looked like his clothes. The picture made his heart skip before he forced himself to think on other things.
Moving across the room, he picked up his bags and walked into the adjoining room to take his bath.
After doing a quick wash, he set about the task of shaving the short beard that was trying to grow on his face. He kept one ear open, and the door slightly cracked, to make sure Elizabeth was still asleep.
It surprised him that she had went to bed right after her bath, figuring she'd still be spitting vinegar about not being able to go out and explore Brighton.
Darcy's clothes, he found, had disappeared from his bag, no doubt the ones Elizabeth was wearing. That pair unfortunately had had the picture of his sister and him in them.
Checking his bag, he found it tucked against the side next to his underclothes.
He sighed in relief and pulled it out to look at.
She looked so happy in this photo. That summer was the summer when…
Darcy didn't want to dwell on it. Instead, he tucked the photo in the pocket of the trousers he was able to find to put on and then a shirt. He ran a hand through his wet hair, making the dark curls fall slightly in his face when he was finished.
Moving back into the other room, Darcy looked over at Elizabeth, she had switched to laying on her other side facing away from him.
Fastening his gun belt around his waist, he cleared his throat.
"We should eat before it gets darker. I don't want to be out after nightfall."
There was no response.
"Miss Bennet."
"I'm not hungry." Came her soft reply.
Well, Darcy now knew it wasn't because she was asleep that she didn't hear him.
"You need to eat, or else you'll be starving during the night."
"I'm not hungry."
Darcy moved over to the bed and stopped to where he was standing over her.
"Something wrong?"
"I'm just tired."
"You can sleep after you've finished eating."
"I said I'm not hungry."
"Want me to bring you something back?"
"No."
This stilted conversation was more of his thing, not hers, and made him curious and alert that something was off.
"Is it… is it your… time?" he asked, mentally kicking himself for making it sound more awkward.
His sister, he recalled, becoming more emotional when her female sickness came around every month. Sometimes she'd be crying over nothing, or angry with him over the smallest thing he might've said. Mostly she just preferred to lay down in her bed and be left to her own devices until it was over.
"There's no point in telling you, you wouldn't understand because you're a man!"
If Elizabeth needed her space like his sister, then he'd give it to her.
"If you need me, I'll be just downstairs. I won't be far." He promised before moving from the bed and leaving the room.
George trotted downstairs after his bath and shave. He was wearing his best clothes and pulling on the cuffs of his sleeves to straighten them out. Smiling, he anticipated the pleasure he was going to have at poker games and other gambling events he could find. Looking about the dining room area, George's eyes fell on Darcy's dark figure sulking at a table nursing a drink.
He sidled up to him and sat down in the seat next to his.
"Not hungry?"
"She's not hungry?"
George rose an eyebrow and leaned forward, "I feel like I'm missing part of what happened between you two. Another fight?"
"I don't know. Yes… no. All I said when I came in the room was that it was time to eat. She said she wasn't hungry."
George leaned back in his seat, smacking the table with a loud thud, "Whelp, that means that's she's not hungry… or in the mood to be around people. Take your pick."
"I figured it was the… female… sickness." Darcy cleared his throat.
"Possibly, or she just is upset after you shut her down when she spoke interest in seeing Brighton."
Darcy gave his childhood friend a sideways glare.
George shrugged, "She's a small-town girl, and you're putting restrictions on her going out and enjoying her time out."
"It's not…" Darcy raked his hand through his hair, "I'm not trying to restrict her. Not at least to the point where she can't go out and experience new places. It's just that she's just been through a stressful experience. I think some time away from excitement would be good for her."
"You mean for you."
Darcy looked at George as if he grew a second head just then.
"It's kind of obvious the kind of poker player you'd be Darce—"
"—I don't gamble."
"What I mean is, that you're a guy who'd play their cards close to your chest. Anything you deem worth protecting, you will go out of your way not to lose them."
"I suggest you get to your point quickly, George. I'm starting to lose my patience."
"Just loosen up, Darcy. That's all I'm trying to say. Enjoy some time with her as her companion and not just some blessed bodyguard."
Darcy wanted to object but George was already out of his seat and striding to the door.
He shook his head and finally lifted the glass and drank the rest of the contents of his whiskey.
Elizabeth sighed as she sat on the side of the bed, looking out the window. It had grown dark already and she hadn't ventured yet outside her room. Darcy hadn't returned either, possibly brooding somewhere, or even yet, enjoying Brighton without her.
She frowned, not being able to picture it.
George however was no doubt laughing it up and running a few cons or winning poker games. He hadn't showed his face since their arrival.
"Stop acting so hopeless." She muttered.
Getting off the bed, Elizabeth set about wrapping the band of cloth around her chest and after reaching a decent knot to tie it in place, she pulled back on Darcy's shirt. If she rolled up the sleeves and tucked in extra material into her boots, it would look a little less ridiculous.
What did it even signify what she wore, she was just going down to eat?
Pushing her hair out of her face, she looked into the mirror and stared at her reflection.
A knock on the door made her look up.
Darcy was back already.
She stood up and gathered her hat to leave.
"You don't have to say anything. I'll just be downstairs eating. You don't even have to sit with me, I won't leave the building." She said as she turned around and just stared. "Jesus, you scared me, George. What are you doing here? I thought you would've been out playing poker."
Wickham gave a smile, his hands clasped behind his back, "Heard Darcy being a cad, figured you'd like some time away from him. What do you say, a night out in town with this devilishly handsome man?"
Elizabeth felt like chuckling, "What about Darcy? He'd be liable to burst a kidney."
"We won't be doing anything wrong. You'd be with me. You trust me, right?"
Between the two men, Darcy was technically the better one at protecting and the one who'd she trust with secrets, but time with George mindlessly exploring was definitely what she needed right now.
"Yes."
She accepted the offer to head out the room ahead of him, missing the smile as he closed the door behind them.
A/N: Well that's is taking Elizabeth out to see Brighton... or is he?