Rapid Revelation

DISCLAIMER: "Pride and Prejudice" will forever be beyond my reach, whether it is Ms. Austen's delightful novel or Joe Wright's 2005 film adaptation. This is merely a humble tribute.

NOTE: Happy Valentine's Day!

Here is the next chapter of what was supposed to be a one-shot. I'm so sorry for the delay. I've been extremely busy but I made time to write and I decided to post this on this occasion because it seemed appropriate. A lot of Lizzie's thoughts here reflect most of those in the book although at a different pace.

In my original plan, the story ends here. But if any of you are interested, I will try and come up with a way to continue it. Please just let me know what you think by leaving a review.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

There was only one thing that was clear to Elizabeth in the tumult of her thoughts and feelings at the moment and that was that she did not want Mr. Darcy to die.

This was the main idea, followed by a number of muddled motives and incoherent justifications ranging from a general concern for the welfare of another human being to more partial inclinations. Her mind was reeling from the bombardment of thoughts and memories while she ran through the muddy river bank, keeping her eyes on the tempestuous water, praying for a sign that Darcy had not met a watery end.

As the storm raged around her and her feelings raged within her, it was a miracle she managed to see straight ahead of her in the rain. In those few agonizing moments of uncertainty, the whole of her acquaintance with Darcy filled her mind. And the more she looked back on their previous encounters, the more she found that not every memory was unpleasant. She had always tried her best to despise him but she now saw that she had never succeeded in doing so. Even though she had always focused on his faults, she had to admit that he still had his virtues. And when she recalled what he had done that led to this difficult predicament, she realized that she may have been mistaken about him from the very beginning.

If he was truly as bad as she had wanted to believe, he would not have been capable of selflessly throwing himself into danger to save an innocent child. He had not even hesitated to consider social position, rules of propriety or even personal safety. He had seen a person in need and had immediately come to their aid. Elizabeth could not deny that he was, at least in this instance, a real hero.

Seeing this new and unexpected side to him threw her into great confusion. What was she to think of him now? Everything she had believed or convinced herself to believe about him had been overturned by this revelation of his character. He had a kind heart, she realized, and wondered that she had never noticed this before, she who had been so confident in her powers of judging people's characters. The picture she had always painted of him as an arrogant, unfeeling man now began to unravel as well as her preconceived notions of someone else.

For the first time, Elizabeth began to doubt Mr. Wickham, not only his description of Darcy but also his own character. Her mind was cleared of some of her illusions of the charming officer and she began to see how suspicious he had been acting. If she was wrong about Darcy, then she was wrong about Wickham as well.

And the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that Bingley would not have been able to be good friends with someone cruel and unfeeling. Elizabeth even dared to consider that Colonel Fitzwilliam's account of Darcy's interference might not be so biased after all. Maybe he had believed himself to be "saving" Bingley from an imprudent marriage and when Elizabeth recalled how her mother and sisters had acted and how this might have appeared to Darcy, she could understand how he had come to such a conclusion.

Then, she recalled his behavior to her. At first they had not seen eye to eye but after their rocky first meeting at the assembly ball, his manner towards her had certainly improved. He had been aloof and taciturn but she now understood that that was in his nature and he meant no ill will. He had certainly never been hostile or insolent to her like Mr. Bingley's sisters or Lady Catherine.

In fact, she now noticed, ever since her arrival in Kent, he had been making more efforts to be on friendly terms with her. He had been aware of his aunt's rudeness and had, in his own way, tried to make amends. He had even visited her in Hunsford for seemingly no reason at all. All her formerly violent feelings towards him had softened significantly and she was now mostly anxious to see that he was all right.

Then she also remembered how he had approached her suddenly earlier though it now seemed ages ago. Why had he come at all? He had said a lot of strange things that she did not understand. Or maybe she simply wanted to deny the implications. What had he been about to say before they were interrupted?

"Oh, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth thought exasperatedly as she continued to search the river for any sign of him, "why must you always be a mystery to me?"

She stood as close as she could to the water while holding on to the sturdiest branch of an ancient tree which she surmised would not easily be uprooted by the weight of a person. She heard the two children's voices in the distance but she could not bring herself to face them yet. They were both safe and sound while their savior remained missing. She needed to find him.

"Where are you?" she muttered, her eyes scanning the wild waters, "please come back."

She considered jumping in after him but after some thought she realized this would be a futile effort. He had proven to be a more competent swimmer than she was and if he could not resist the force of the water there were fewer chances that she would be able to do so. All she could do now was watch and wait in restless anxiety.

Somehow the mere thought of Mr. Darcy coming to harm now pained Elizabeth in a way she could not quite explain. There was a dull ache in her chest which she could not account for. Was she guilty about thinking so ill of him before? Was she simply afraid of seeing someone she knew die? Exactly how much had her opinion of him improved in the past few minutes? She could not answer any of these and she did not try to. She simply prayed that he would emerge safely from the depths and so keep her from plunging into despair.

"Mr. Darcy! Mr. Darcy!" she shouted, "Where are you?"

She continued to call out, the pain in her chest growing as time passed with no sign of him in the water.

"Please, please come back," she beseeched before shouting louder, "Mr. Darcy!"

And with that last cry, a figure emerged from the water, sputtering and splashing but still very much alive.

"Oh, thank God!"

The moment Elizabeth saw him, she cried out with joy and relief and she could not suppress a smile. She could not be sure if her face was soaked by the rain or held back tears but she didn't care. He was alive and that was all that mattered.

Darcy looked around him in confusion as he struggled to stay afloat against the current. It had taken all of his energy to surface and now he was trying to find a way to get back on land. But the current was strong and he was growing weaker by the minute. Everything around him was blurred and it was extremely difficult to focus.

"Mr. Darcy!"

The sound of her voice seemed to break his trance and he turned to face the direction of the call. His eyes met hers for a moment and that was enough to invigorate him. His strength rose incredibly and he was more determined than ever to make his way back.

Elizabeth did not realize what an effect she had made on him. She was simply relieved that he had continued to fight. She was further impressed by how fast he was able to swim now. She leaned forward as far as she could without letting go of the branch she was holding. She stretched out her other hand and this time, he caught it.

With some effort, Elizabeth helped pull Mr. Darcy out of the water and once he was safely on the ground, she waited for him to catch his breath. After a few moments, he turned to her.

"Are you all right, Mr. Darcy?" she asked in concern, "Is there anything you need?"

"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth," he said earnestly, and with a smile that made her blush slightly, "I'm all right now, thanks to you."

"I assure you I did nothing," she said humbly, "you are the one who has braved the storm. And you saved that child without a thought to your own safety. That was simply extraordinary."

Elizabeth stopped abruptly and wondered how she was able to praise him so easily when only earlier that day she had been determined to hate him. They both stood up now and he was looking at her with such a soft expression in his eyes that Elizabeth could not bring herself to meet his gaze.

"But you waited," he continued, "and that means more to me than you can possibly know."

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, not knowing what else she could say, "you are too kind."

"Miss Bennet," he said gravely, taking her hands in his gently.

Elizabeth looked at him apprehensively, her heartbeat accelerating at an alarming rate. She now had an inkling of what he was about to say and yet she was still having difficulty believing it. And she had absolutely no idea of how she would respond.

"You must allow me to tell you," he began in earnest when once again he was interrupted.

"Sir! Are you all right, sir? Thank God you were able to get out!" came a concerned voice.

Darcy and Elizabeth turned to see the young girl and her brother running towards them, the little boy carrying Mr. Darcy's discarded coat. He handed it towards his savior reverently and though Darcy was frustrated at having been interrupted again during such a crucial moment, he could not help but be touched by the gesture.

Part of Elizabeth welcomed the intrusion since she was too confused about what was happening between her and Mr. Darcy. And yet another part was slightly disappointed as well.

"How can we possibly thank you for saving my brother's life?" the girl cried eagerly, "We are eternally indebted to you, sir."

"You owe me nothing," Darcy replied kindly, "I was simply doing the right thing. And seeing your brother alive and well is thanks enough for me."

"Oh, but sir, please allow me to introduce you to my family," the young girl insisted, "so that they may know of the great service you have rendered for us."

Then, the girl, who introduced herself as Sarah, also turned to Elizabeth.

"And you too, miss, for if you had not listened to my cries for help, my poor brother would be lost," she said, taking Elizabeth's hand.

"Oh, but I assure you I did nothing," Elizabeth said humbly, "all credit for your brother's rescue must go to Mr. Darcy."

But the girl insisted, and little Henry began pulling Elizabeth's hand so that she found she was in no position to refuse. She through puzzled glance at Mr. Darcy, who was also being pulled by the little boy and the man simply shrugged and smiled at her in that inexplicably effective manner.

They both gave up arguing with the determined children and allowed themselves to be led to the young people's home. As they made their way there, each was lost in his and her thoughts.

Darcy wondered now how he would find the nerve again to propose to Elizabeth. But he was also thrilled to know that she had waited for him at the river. This and the tender looks and smiles she gave him afterwards were more encouragement than he had ever hoped for. He would simply have to find another occasion to ask her properly.

For her part, Elizabeth was still struggling to reconcile her emotions with all that had just transpired. Earlier that day, she had been certain of what she thought of and how she felt about Mr. Darcy. And just when her tumultuous feelings were finally beginning to be settled, this extraordinary incident left her more confused than ever.