A/N: Hey Gang. Thank you for all the lovely reviews. I like to see all the guessing, although I will neither confirm nor deny how close they are. All I'll say is that we're a bit less than halfway through. I'll be picking up the pace from here on out. Wade
On Saturday morning, Jane seemed to be recovering, though she was still not completely well. She had lost much of her pallor, and she was still sleeping after breakfast, but felt like she should be fine to attend the parlor later in the evening and return to Longbourn on Sunday after church. Sally had been released from her other duties to sit with Jane through the morning, so Elizabeth was nervous and bored. She was also deprived of a ready excuse for hiding in Jane's room.
She decided that she might just sneak out of the house for a quick walk around Netherfield's front lawn. She was still nervous about walking alone, but the twenty minutes she had spent walking from Meryton had not exposed her to anything more dangerous than a very apologetic Mr. Darcy, so she decided she should take her chances. She would not ask for a footman or maid, because she was convinced that she needed to become more self‑reliant and less afraid of shadows. She reckoned there was a very good chance she would have to leave her home sooner than later, and she needed to somehow restore some of the fire she had before Ramsgate.
Rationally, she was perfectly aware that many people had to deal with far worse fears every day, and they eventually either got over them or drove themselves mad with worry. Some would ruin themselves with drink or reckless behavior, but she did not believe herself susceptible to either. Some might blurt out the truth of their situation just to get it over with, especially if they had a trustworthy confessor or two like Charlotte or her father. However, she thought none of these ideas would work for her.
The main concern was just how long it would take her to regain her equilibrium. She had been making progress before the Netherfield party joined the neighborhood, and she thought she might do so again after they left. All she had to do was avoid any closer connection, as difficult as that seemed; or else decide she could trust Mr. Darcy with her life, as unlikely as that appeared.
It was with a bit of forced courage that she descended the stairs, obtained her pelisse, bonnet and gloves, and exited the front of the house, wondering if there would ever again in her life be a time when she was not afraid.
Naturally, the very first thing she encountered was a ruffian.
"Miss Elizabeth, good morning. How fares your sister?"
"Much better, Mr. Darcy. Thank you for asking."
Elizabeth had no idea why she thought she would be able to avoid the gentleman by forgetting about him. Like most people, she had some hope that thinking something would happen or not happen might affect the chances of the event occurring depending on how much you wanted it. Apparently, the technique did not work.
She wondered what to do now, but it turned out that the gentleman was not quite finished.
"I just returned from Longbourn, Miss Elizabeth. Your father beat me quite badly on the chessboard. Have you been able to hear his gloating from here?"
Elizabeth could not help herself… a giggle escaped from her lips, and a smile managed to stay on it momentarily. She had to admit that she enjoyed Mr. Darcy's sense of humor, though she was uncertain if anyone save her and Mr. Bennet knew about it.
"Mr. Darcy, my father does not gloat, sir… he simply celebrates his victories like any other five-year-old."
She had no idea why she would say something that sounded so very much like flirting, but the deed was done now, and she was a touch ambiguous about whether she regretted it or not.
Mr. Darcy laughed openly, and then replied.
"Yes, Miss Elizabeth. He does er… like to celebrate his victories. I think he likes to have me in the neighborhood because he believes he can savor a higher percentage of triumphs than he enjoys against you."
"There is no glory in besting an inferior opponent, Mr. Darcy."
He laughed again, and surprisingly, for just a few moments, Elizabeth forgot her fears and just enjoyed the conversation. If it were any man but Mr. Darcy, she would be having the time of her life.
"Miss Elizabeth, are you for a walk? Would you object to some company?"
Elizabeth hesitated just long enough for him to notice.
"You need not fear I will be offended if you choose solitude. I frequently choose it myself, and I can assure you that I of all people will understand. The offer is open, but you need not feel bound by politeness to accept it."
This was the kind of thing Elizabeth just hated. He was just so reasonable. It made staying away from him all that much harder, and probably pointless as well.
"I do not mind the company, Mr. Darcy. I will not be long."
"Should I get a maid or a footman? There is a good path through the park that is mostly visible from the house, but I would not want you to be apprehensive."
The gesture was appreciated, but Elizabeth did not feel like dragging a hapless footman away from his duties, and something about breaking the solitude, even with the most discreet footman seemed like it would bother her.
"I believe propriety will be maintained well enough, Mr. Darcy. If you are not nervous about walking alone with me, I am not either."
With both parties not truly understanding how much intimacy they had just agreed to, they turned and started walking towards the wilderness. Mr. Darcy did not offer his arm thought his every instinct suggested he should, and Elizabeth was glad for it. She was still trying to work out how to keep him at arm's length, at least for a while, so she could work out how to deal with him over the long term. For the moment, she thought if she could forget his sister for a bit, and just walk through the Netherfield woods, she could be content.
Now that they were walking along in relative peace and harmony, Darcy did not feel the need to disturb the still skittish Miss Elizabeth with conversation. He was comfortable walking along in silence, and never quite understood people like either of the Bingleys who could not seem to abide the quietness of nature, so they filled every waking moment with chatter.
Mr. Bennet, in a surprising bit of candor for such a short acquaintance, had assured Darcy he had never met the true Elizabeth Bennet. That lady, her father asserted, could fill any drawing room conversation with wit and laughter, or any quiet wilderness with a sense of stillness to match the idlest lizard. She could talk with anyone from cottager to prince with equal aplomb, and Darcy could see that was probably true, so long as none of those people in that range included himself. It was quite a mystery, and he hoped one day to work it out.
For the moment though, all he wanted to do was enjoy her company, so they both walked on in contemplative silence for a half‑mile into Netherfield's park, both thinking about the past and the twisted journey that had placed them on that path together at that time. Neither really noticed when they left the point where they could at least hypothetically be seen from the house, but since their exit from the lawn and the return would be quite public, neither thought anything worrying was likely to happen. At least, that is what they would have thought if they worked it through, but mostly they just did not think about it with the stillness of the woods to occupy them.
Despite walking together, both felt a sense of peace and quieting of any inner turmoil, and both had time for remembrances, both good and bad.
Fitzwilliam Darcy had lived an odd combination of the best and the worst that life had to offer. He would have to sheepishly admit that he was fortunate to have more of the best, and less of the worst, than he was probably due, but that was just the vagaries of birth and fortune.
He had been left to run an enormous estate and raise a very young girl at the tender age of two and twenty. His father's untimely death five years after his mother and right after he finished an extra year at Cambridge gave the young man a very fast and hard lesson about just how much he did not know. His father had of course been teaching him about the estate since his childhood, but father and son had always assumed there was another good decade before any of it would have to be put into practice. The extra year at Cambridge studying subjects of great interest but no practical value was judged a character exercise, since he had plenty of time.
Upon his father's death, Darcy spent the year of his mourning learning just how many decisions had to be made by the master, and just how many people depended on those decisions being reasonably correct. He was learning that it was not only the people directly connected with the estate who were affected, but families in the nearby villages of Lambton and Kympton, and businesses in London and even outside of England.
He spent the second year of his mastery recovering from the death of old Mr. Wickham, the long‑time steward. Mr. Wickham's death, like his father's was unexpected, and Darcy was unprepared for it. When it happened, Darcy got a first‑hand look at how little the old steward had been writing down. So much was kept in his head that it took another year of riding the estate, talking to tenants and learning before he finally felt ready to hire another steward and relax a little bit.
His very early ascendancy to mastery of the estate had curtailed most of the time that his peers spent enjoying extended tours or the social life of London. Never a very social man himself, Darcy's natural reserve was magnified. Being the master of the biggest estate in the region intensified his isolation. His decision to send his sister to school increased his loneliness; and completely unbeknownst to him, it added to hers as well. The third year for both Darcys was mostly spent in frustrated isolation.
Georgiana Darcy spent those same years going to one of the best schools in England, but never quite felt that she fit in. Raised with no mother, a mostly indifferent father, a brother who was mostly away at school, and eventually nothing but a brother and cousin for guardians, had left her feeling left out and isolated. She was raised by nursery maids and governesses before her father's death, but never felt any attachment to any of them. In school, the daughters of peers thought her below them, and daughters of more modest estates considered her above. The number that she managed to make friends with turned out to be quite small. She thought that a more amiable or sensible person probably would have overcome those difficulties, but she never could.
Some rather nasty pranks by some of the older and more elevated girls early in her tenure left her bitter and distrustful, but she had no idea how to correct it. Her brother had no idea she was suffering in the first place, because she was unwilling to burden him; and she had no idea how she would begin even if she did.
By his twenty sixth year, Fitzwilliam Darcy eventually bowed to his aunt's nearly constant 'advice' and went to town to enjoy a full season, rather than the month or two he had sporadically spent there in the past. She said repeatedly that it was expected of him, and besides that, it was high time he either took a wife, or availed himself of some other entertainments until he was ready to do so. He was not getting any younger, and his duty to see to the next generation of Darcys would become critical before very long.
One season, a few dozen very uncomfortable social occasions, several hundred debutantes and matchmaking mothers, and four known attempted compromises (with one very nearly successful) left their mark. The only bright spot in this were his friendships with his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam and his good friend Charles Bingley.
Simultaneously, Darcy, following his sister's timid and very cautiously worded request, removed her from school and hired a companion to further her education. Georgiana found the vivacious and energetic Mrs. Younge to be much more to her liking. She thought that she was not truly capable of the elder lady's larger than life self-confidence and assurance, but that she could gradually learn some of it. The discussions with her brother leading to her exit from school had broken down some of the barriers between the two, and she felt they knew each other just a bit more than they had.
Georgiana requested and was granted a holiday by the seaside. Several days in the library at Pemberley suggested Ramsgate as a good place, so she was off with her companion to see what life could offer. The siblings planned that he would come visit her after he finished some necessary business in town and at his estate, which was to keep him occupied through most of the summer.
The siblings wrote regularly, but a few weeks before he was scheduled to arrive, she wrote, asking if he might come a bit early to enjoy some time by the sea. He acceded to the request gladly, happy to escape the social swirl of London. On arriving, he found that the companion, while not being terrible, was not quite the companion his sister needed, so he replaced her with a more suitable older widow. He also found his sister had developed a slight obsession with manners and propriety but assumed that was just a normal part of growing up.
Georgiana came back from Ramsgate wishing to spend some time with relatives and hopefully forget all about her dismal experience, while her brother went to help his friend learn the rudiments of land ownership.
The quiet of the woods around Netherfield was a balm to Elizabeth's battered soul, and the quiet of her companion did him no disfavors either. She clearly remembered how, before Ramsgate, she had wandered the woods for hours, or hid under a tree or by a brook in a hidden glade with a book, feeling nothing but peace, contentment and solitude. There had been no fear of the woods, and she had to admit to herself, there had been no real shame in her life. Her mother and sisters were embarrassing, loud and coarse; but they were all mostly kind‑hearted about most things, and the family was entirely respectable. Her mother might seem a bit silly to a casual observer, but she had raised five daughters who were a bit high spirited, but on the better side of ordinary. There were no Bennets going back many generations who had been known to commit any sort of crime or be involved in any major scandal.
The previous months had ripped that serenity out from under her, and she did not know whether she hated the fear she lived with constantly or the shame worse. Would either ever really go away? On most days, the feeling of shame bothered her most, with the worst part being that she knew perfectly well her actions had been anything but shameful. A man was dead by her hand, and she could not reconcile it.
That morning though, in the well-tended woods of Netherfield Park, Elizabeth Bennet found that she enjoyed the quiet and stillness of being with Mr. Darcy. She wondered what his given name was. Given names for gentlemen were rarely used in company, so she had never heard anyone use it. The man had a sense of calmness that she very much appreciated. It was almost as things were before the guilt and the shame and the fear. Walking with the man was… peaceful and comforting.
With some thought, Elizabeth had to sheepishly admit to herself that she had heard the gentleman speak quite often, for someone she was ostensibly trying her best to avoid. Her avoidance strategy seemed much more like scrutiny. She avoided interacting with him at social functions, but always found herself close enough to hear much of what he said.
In Elizabeth's opinion, nearly everything Mr. Darcy said after his first apology was intelligent and well thought out, or at least it was when he was talking to someone who could appreciate it. He talked quite easily on any number of topics with Charlotte, Mrs. Lucas, Mr. Bennet, Colonel Forster, Mr. Long and even Mr. Bingley. He had more trouble with meaningless chatter with those like Sir William or her younger sisters, but he did try. He was even able to have a quite intelligent conversation with her sister Mary about Fordyce of all things. The two worked themselves into a good discussion about literature that Elizabeth would have liked to join, but she found herself too timid to do so.
The lady was starting to become disturbingly comfortable in his presence, and just beginning to wonder how she was to deal with him, when they rounded a corner and found a moderate sized branch fallen over the path. It was not a mortal hazard, or anything she would not have jumped over with the greatest of ease on her own but, walking side by side it offered a sort of test. The most rudimentary sense of chivalry demanded that any gentleman walking next to any lady should offer his assistance, so Darcy did so without thought. The meanest mannered lady in the world would accept the offer in the spirit in which it was given, and so Elizabeth took his arm with hardly any more thought.
The thinking did not come until both parties had carefully stepped over the offending branch, and then had to decide what to do next. They were both unsure of where to go or how to act. Elizabeth was the more nervous of the two, because she spent most of her time vacillating between liking the man and trying to avoid him. Darcy was not the least bit confused about what he wanted but was unsure of how to get it, and deathly afraid of making a fatal mistake.
Elizabeth resolved the unspoken impasse by squeezing his arm slightly harder than she normally would. After that, she thought it would be churlish to drop it, so she did not. They continued down the path for another twenty minutes, thankfully still in contented silence.
Things were not particularly awkward, but Darcy thought once again to try his hand at conversation.
"Miss Elizabeth, I apologize for not asking earlier, but is there anything I can do for your sister's comfort?"
Elizabeth laughed, and replied, "Do you start every conversation with an apology, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy grinned, and replied, "Only with you, Miss Elizabeth. I am not certain even Bingley ever heard a single one from me before the night of the assembly."
He wanted to bite his tongue with that reminder, and Elizabeth could see his face darken in remembered embarrassment.
"Mr. Darcy, might we just let the assembly go? I have already forgiven you. Perhaps my forgiveness was a touch churlish at first, but I would entirely forget the matter if you would not bring it up. I forgive you, Sir."
He sighed, and replied, "I have not quite forgiven myself."
Elizabeth squeezed his arm slightly harder, and replied, "It is time to do so, Mr. Darcy. I insist."
She had no idea why she was being so resolute, but it seemed the right thing to do. Much as she needed to distance herself from him, he was a gentleman carrying an unnecessary burden that she could lift with a few words.
"Very well, Miss Elizabeth. Shall we choose another subject, or do you prefer the silence?"
Left with such a choice, Elizabeth could not really decide which she really wanted, so replied, "You choose."
He chuckled a bit and asked, "Do you really beat your father routinely at chess?"
Elizabeth wondered about the man's peculiar relationship with her father, so asked, "You might need to define the word 'routinely' with more precision. Has he alluded to some particular prowess?"
"He has… but"
Elizabeth watched for a moment, and prompted, "but?"
"…but… I believe he occasionally professes opinions that are not his own."
Elizabeth had to laugh at that, which Darcy enjoyed very much. He loved the sound of her laughter, although she rarely let it loose in his company.
"Pray, what does he tell you, Sir? I warn you, I am unlikely to confirm or deny."
"He seems to think you are quite evenly matched, but you are an occasional reverse‑cheater, and that is all I will say."
Elizabeth smiled again and noted that they had made a complete circuit and were back to the same tree branch, but this time she still had hold of his arm. It was, she had to admit, comforting in a way. She still had no idea how she would survive her acquaintance with the man, but she did enjoy his company. She felt safe walking with him, much as she had walking with her father when younger.
Elizabeth was ever so happy that men of his circle did not court women of hers, because if they were of similar social standing, he would be much more of a concern than he was. As it was, he was as likely to court her as a scullery maid, which filled her with a feeling of comfort. It was useful to know the lay of the land. Any sensible person would know they had no future, which was comforting, as it was very difficult to have a male friend without marital expectations. They could of course never discuss such a subject, but Elizabeth was confident they both understood the unwritten rules of the world well enough to be of a like mind.
They returned to Netherfield in good order, divested themselves of their outerwear and entered the parlor to find the rest of the inhabitants just sitting down to tea.
They must have been away from the house much longer than Elizabeth thought, because they found that Mrs. Bennet had visited to look in on Jane. The matriarch had only a short time before meeting another acquaintance in Hatfield, so she had not waited for Elizabeth to return, but merely looked in on Jane in some satisfaction. Elizabeth was astounded by the news and wondered just how long she had been wandering the woods with Mr. Darcy. It had seemed but a half‑hour, but it was not possible for her mother to have visited in such a short time.
Miss Bingley informed them that she had joined Mrs. Bennet when she looked in on Miss Bennet and found her somewhat better, but still exhausted. Elizabeth decided Jane could live without her for a half‑hour, and it would not hurt for her to be sociable.
The tea was of good quality, the biscuits excellent and the company enjoyable. Mr. Bingley as usual jumped around from subject to subject, and she found she was quite well entertained for the next hour.
Miss Bingley seemed to have reached an equilibrium with her and was turning out to be quite a pleasant companion when she wanted to be. Elizabeth had no idea if the lady was dissembling when she was being nice, whether she vacillated between different personalities, or whether she was playing some game. In the end, it did not matter because when the Bingley sisters were being pleasant, they were excellent company, and Elizabeth quite enjoyed her time with them. She really needed nothing more.
The gentlemen decided to indulge in billiards, and Miss Bingley shared a needlework project she was working on. Elizabeth had not the slightest difficulty praising the work. The stitching was excellent, and Elizabeth was happy to admit it was much better than hers. She even admitted that it was almost as good as Jane's. Miss Bingley described a difficult problem she was having with the work, and Elizabeth suggested Charlotte might be the best person in the neighborhood to assist her.
The next hour passed in quiet enjoyment, and Elizabeth stayed with the Bingley sisters until a maid came in to tell her that Jane was awake. She went to join her sister and spend the rest of the afternoon with her.
Elizabeth found Jane much better, and between them they decided it would be proper to return to Longbourn soon. Jane felt certain she would enjoy a full evening in the company of Mr. Bingley and his sisters whom she liked very much. Elizabeth made no attempt to move Jane from her opinion about the sisters. In the first place, it would not have been right to do so as Jane was a grown woman and would learn about them sooner or later on her own. In the second place, trying to convince Jane to look at anyone in an unfavorable light was a fool's errand, since it could not be done. In the third place, the past hours had shown her that the Bingley sisters had a good side, and it seemed likely that Jane could manage to capture more of the good and less of the bad, so Elizabeth thought she would leave them to work it out among themselves.
After an hour spent chatting together, they decided Jane would sleep until time to dress for dinner, then they would dine with the Netherfield party and enjoy the evening's entertainments. Elizabeth suspected that would amount to her distracting most of the party, while Jane and Mr. Bingley spent an hour or two in each other's company without any hints of impropriety.
Elizabeth had to sheepishly admit that, even though the entire thing was poorly done, in the end, for Jane at least, it had all worked out rather well. She would get to spend a few precious hours with her potential beau, and they would be home in time for dinner on Sunday. Perhaps Mrs. Bennet was cleverer than Elizabeth gave her credit for.