Author's Note: Please do not fear for Elizabeth's or Darcy's health. You cannot really get a cold from getting wet and chilled. Being wet may cause you to catch a chill that slightly lowers your immune system temporarily, but a cold is caused by a virus. I obviously love, respect, and admire Jane Austen, but in her day they didn't have a complete understanding of how viruses worked. Jane Bennet (and Marianne Dashwood, for that matter) would not have gotten sick merely from getting only happens if people are exposed to a virus prior to getting cold and wet. But if you still don't believe me, Elizabeth and Darcy weren't out in the heavy rain for too long!
On another note... if you believe Darcy & Elizabeth never argue, especially on their honeymoon, and that they are totally perfect and never say anything wrong... you might want to skip this chapter... Their little disagreement might seem silly, but as a married person with firsthand experience of similarly unexpected miscommunication & escalation, it felt real to me. The chapter ends happily, I promise ;)
The title of this chapter comes from The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis: "To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal." C.S. Lewis goes on to say that, of course, that it is worth it.
While the storm continued outside, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy enjoyed their time in the cottage. They enjoyed a delicious, quiet dinner, then a pleasant evening spent in each other's company. During the night, Fitzwilliam was rather restless, but at last, they both fell asleep.
In the morning, Elizabeth was bemused when her husband put a hand to her brow.
"Do you still feel well?"
"Perfectly," Elizabeth asked with a little laugh; "why do you ask?"
Darcy sighed. "We ought not to have gone out when it looked as though it would rain. I should have put my foot down."
Not particularly fond of this phrasing, Elizabeth asked, "Is that why you were so fitful last night? You feared I would fall ill?"
"I do not want your holiday ruined by a bad cold," he replied.
Elizabeth was tempted to laugh again, but managed to suppress the urge, and instead kissed her husband's brow - also still perfectly cool.
"I will be fine," she assured him. "We were not out in the rain for long at all; certainly not as long as Jane was when she rode to Netherfield."
"Do you Bennets have no sense of the weather?" Darcy muttered.
As he had not spoken as though addressing her, Elizabeth made no reply. Darcy respected Mrs. Bennet little enough; she did not feel inclined, at this moment, to reveal that Jane had only become ill because her mother had actually urged her to ride in the rain on purpose in the hope of being forced to stay at Netherfield. Illness, of course, had not been in Mrs. Bennet's plan.
At last, Elizabeth said, "I am a Darcy now, you would do well to remember."
Fitzwilliam smiled at last, which had been his wife's goal. "How could I forget?"
A short while later, they enjoyed a leisurely breakfast together; the clouds of the previous day had cleared, and the morning was fine.
"What would you like to do today?" Darcy asked.
Elizabeth swallowed a bite of food. "Oh, I should like to explore one of the local mines."
"A mine?" Darcy's countenance darkened. "Certainly not."
Surprised by his vehement and uncompromising refusal, Elizabeth set down her toast. "You said I could do whatever I wished on our wedding-trip," she replied.
"You did not say - I did not think - you wished to explore a imine/i."
"Do you worry about the dirt, or the danger?"
Darcy was not amused. "Of course I worry about the danger."
"Men work in those mines every day - or at least, they used to," Elizabeth pointed out. Exploring an abandoned mine seemed even more thrilling than examining the intricate workings of one still in use.
"That does not mean we should go there," Darcy insisted.
"Why are you so concerned? You encouraged me to endanger myself on horseback!" Elizabeth pointed out.
"You were perfectly willing!" Darcy reminded her. "And... and that is different!"
"How, sir?"
For a moment, Darcy was silent. Elizabeth realized, belatedly, that her tone had been far too similar to the one which she had used with him when refusing his first proposal, but she did not apologize. Why was he being so irksome - on their wedding-tour, no less! - about this? It was alright if he did not want to go into the mine, but to "put his foot down" as though he were her superior! That, too, reminded her too much of his first proposal!
Finally, he said, "Horses can be gentled. Earth cannot."
As irritating as it was, Darcy did have a point. Elizabeth, however, had tired of his air of superiority - or, to be more honest with herself, she was miffed that it seemed she was to be denied something she had so looked forward to doing. Was he so frightened of a little dirt or a little darkness that he would prevent her from enjoyment? She moved her napkin from her lap back to her emptied plate, and pushed her chair back from the table. Even now, Darcy had to be a gentleman, and had gotten to his feet as well.
"I am going for a walk," she announced.
"Not into a mine."
It was not a question. Elizabeth looked at him sharply. How dare he tell her what to do?
"I just want some time to be alone, that is all," she said, her voice cool. Neither of them had had time to themselves in a se'ennight; perhaps they both needed it. "I will stay near, as you command, sir."
Darcy's lips pressed together tightly; she knew she had succeeded in making her point.
"Elizabeth," he said finally, slowly, "it is just that you know so little of the world-"
"I am not a child!" Elizabeth said, turning to take her leave of him, not caring for the moment if she were being uncivil.
"You are acting like one!"
She whirled to face him, eyes flashing in indignation.
"Elizabeth, men die in those mines," he said quietly. "You cannot..." Taking a breath, he said gently, haltingly, "I do not want... I could not bear if anything happened to you."
"Oh," Elizabeth breathed.
Her shoulders sank a little from their posture of haughty indignation.
"I... did not know," she said softly.
Truly, she had not; she was not so naive, perhaps, as Darcy had made her feel, but she knew little of the dangers of producing coal or copper or shale. She had honestly not much thought about what danger might have gone into heating Longbourn or making its teakettles. And by threatening to sulk off on a walk at such a moment, it did seem like she had been trying to run away from the truth, like a child.
"I suspected as much," Darcy explained, voice gentle. "I beg you, pardon me for speaking so harshly. I feared-"
He stopped abruptly, and Elizabeth comprehended him at last. He had been afraid not for his coat or for his safety, but for hers - of course.
"You could have told me at once," Elizabeth said gently, crossing the room to him once more.
Darcy sighed. "It is not a subject easily raised."
"No," Elizabeth agreed; death never was. Nor was admitting one's own vulnerability - she knew that well.
"You know - surely, you must know - at least your own importance," Darcy murmured, taking her hand. "To your family; to Georgiana; to Pemberley and all of its servants and its dependents - and to me."
Elizabeth was quiet. Then she pressed a kiss to his palm and moved his hand to rest his fingers against her cheek.
"I am sorry," she said quietly - not only for her harsh words and for nearly walking out on him (even though of course she would have come back once her temper cooled) - but for all that poor Mr. Darcy had lost that made him so fearful. He had lost his parents, and had very nearly lost his sister to the odious Mr. Wickham, who surely would have tried to turn Georgiana against her brother just as Wickham had done with so many others.
Darcy took a slow breath. "I thought before that I had lost you forever," he admitted. You cannot know the hope I felt when I saw you at Pemberley - the hope that you would forgive me, at least; I had no expectation of anything more. But just seeing you again... in the hopes that perhaps we might be friends, even if I longed for more... And now that we are husband and wife at last, I will not give you up."
Loving someone meant risking being hurt; it was impossible to avoid entirely. Even though Elizabeth still felt fairly certain no harm might have come to her in the mines, she understood that Darcy's fear ran deeper, and so she would address the matter at its heart.
"When you love someone," she said quietly, "you risk being hurt." After a moment's hesitation, she added, "We will disappoint each other from time to time, I suppose, yet... How wonderful for us both to have something we love so dearly that we fear to lose it."
Darcy tipped his forehead until it rested lightly against hers; Elizabeth closed her eyes.
"There is still," she said a moment later, endeavoring to sound light-hearted, "the matter of deciding on what to do today. Perhaps we shall try climbing a mountain?"
At once, Darcy started and looked at her in frustration, only to sigh good-naturedly when he saw she was smiling; she was making a joke at her own expense for the sake of getting him to smile.
"For the sake of my nerves, might you be so kind as to restrict our activities to something that will not endanger your life?" Darcy asked.
As she had already unwittingly put her husband through a trial that morning, Elizabeth refrained from noting the similarity between Mr. Darcy and her mother at that moment. Nor did she reiterate that it had only been a joke.
Instead, she said, "Perhaps we might stay here for a little longer and enjoy the lovely cottage you've found us. I believe we both slept ill last night; we might try to rest before our next walk."
Darcy did not criticize her for being sluggish or unappreciative of their beautiful natural surroundings; nor did he point out that they had only woken an hour ago. He only nodded his approval.
"Later today, we might explore another foot-path," he suggested - making Elizabeth's heart thrill that he had found a compromise for them to explore (as she had desired - but safely, as he desired). "Perhaps we could bring the volume of Wordsworth."
"Would you read me a poem here?" Elizabeth requested, a bit shyly, at the idea of his beloved voice reading aloud to her. "Perhaps the one you mentioned yesterday."
"If it would please you," Darcy replied, offering his arm to escort her back to their rooms for the aforementioned attempt to rest.
It pleased her very much.
Author's Note 2.0: Before you get too mad at Darcy (a.k.a. or rather, me, who wrote his lines here), consider that he IS older and more well-traveled and therefore more experienced than Lizzy; he has more knowledge than her on some subjects. (She obviously has more knowledge than he does on other subjects, like how to interact with other human beings, lol.) This also goes back to an earlier chapter, how Darcy (and Lizzy) will both take time to overcome their flaws; Darcy was indulged too much on account of being the only (then eldest) child in a wealthy and privileged family; Lizzy because she was her father's favorite. Marriage will help file any rough edges off of them ;)
On another note, if you're wondering how/why Elizabeth was so ignorant of mine collapses and accidents: consider that there was no cable news, no radio, etc. It is possible that big mine collapses would have been reported in newspapers, but the average lady in the gentry or upper classes would likely simply not be informed of such unpleasant events. It is my (perhaps mistaken) understanding that in general, excepting reformers like Wilberforce and later writers like Dickens and Gaskell, the average middle- to upper-class English person, especially the "gentle sex," did not comprehend the hardships of the working poor unless through personal experience or reading (and I know of few novels prior to the mid-1800s that focused on the trials of workers). It was perhaps not intentional (though Elizabeth admits she is not a great reader; that's more her sister, Mary), just ignorance and inexperience or hearing of a local accident in their area, maybe from workers at church or in Meryton. If I'm wrong about this, please kindly correct me!
The next chapter will bring more happy fluff, you have my word! Then maybe I will stop writing super-long author's notes in hopes of pacifying potentially-angry readers, lol