Update ch 20

They walked out of the shop together, squinting at the bright sunlight. The heat of the sun took away the chill that still lingered from the early morning, even though it was much later in the day. Elizabeth remarked on the weather as she searched for topics better suited to their new friendship.

Mr. Darcy seemed pleased with the conversation and said the minimum required to keep the conversation moving. However, she noticed that his answers were as aloof as her questions. He was obviously very distracted as well, so she let her thoughts turn inward without worrying about offending him. After all, if he was content with silence, she ought to get used to his silence. Their friendship would depend on her not getting upset by such trivial matters as his silence.

After a quarter hour of quiet reflection, Mr. Darcy was pulled out of his reflections by an impatient huff from his partner. He turned to see Elizabeth appeared quite upset, and though she was not looking at him he grew concerned that he had somehow missed something important. He wished he felt comfortable enough to ask her to explain how she felt, but he did not have the right of a betrothed as yet, nor did he feel as though she would accept him if he declared himself so soon.

After another nearly silent huff, Mr. Darcy tentatively asked if she were troubled.

To his surprise, Elizabeth laughed before her look turned sour, and she replied in a satirical tone, "No, Mr. Darcy, it is such a lovely day. There is no possible way I could simply have many things on my mind. It is not as though anyone told me anything of import that has shifted my understanding of two very different gentlemen and made me question my ability to observe characters." She finished with another huff and quickened her pace.

He quickly matched her stride, but he did not attempt to reclaim her arm to assist her. Feeling foolish that she should have understood him so swiftly and completely and not needed time to ponder what he had told her, he simply walked by her side and watched to ensure she did not trip on their walk, which had moved off the main road. They were taking a short cut through the woods.

The shadows of the trees made it impossible for them to see that there was a storm coming, but Mr. Darcy heard the pattering of rain on the leaves draw ever closer. He quickened his pace and ensured Elizabeth did likewise, but it was not enough. A complete downpour was upon them quickly, from which the trees could not shield them. It was difficult to see the path ahead of them, and their clothes were becoming drenched.

Mr. Darcy knew he needed to get them to shelter, and thankfully he knew where an old hunting lodge still stood. "Miss Bennet, we must hurry. We cannot make it to Rosings, but we can get to shelter. Do you trust me?" He had stopped them and was facing her, willing her to believe him.

She looked lost with her hair stuck to the side of her face as she looked up at him in wonder. "Of course, I trust you. Where shall we go?"

Mr. Darcy lost no time before taking her hand. "I shall tell you when we arrive. Let us run before we are completely wet through." Without waiting for her reply, he took off at a jog, ensuring he was not too fast for her to keep up. She met his pace with ease, so he sped up slightly, holding tight to her hand so that he could ensure she did not fall. They could barely see, but this was a path he had traversed many times as a child playing in the woods.

The hunting lodge finally came into view. He did not slow down until they were at the door. Finding it locked, he huffed in annoyance. "Stay here. I know where the key is kept." He paused only long enough to ensure she was completely under the eave and protected from the rain before he bolted back into the rain and dashed around the house. When he returned, he found Elizabeth audibly shivering. "There ought to be supplies for lighting a fire inside. We shall be warm soon, Miss Bennet." He had to fiddle with the key for a few moments before the latch finally clicked. He led them inside to a very simple room with a stone fireplace in the center. Wordlessly, Mr. Darcy shut the door behind them and worked as quickly as he could.

First, he moved a basket by the door to the fireplace. Then he pulled a pile of small sticks over to the fireplace, before moving to find some more wood. When he turned back to the fire, he found Elizabeth shaking the basket of leaves over the fireplace. She was shivering still, but she was determined to be useful.

So shocked that a woman would know how to light a fire, he stood there as she began taking sticks and stacking them so that they formed a cone with its point at the top. When she turned, she scolded him for his inattention. "I am cold. Get the flint or we shall never warm up. You seem to know where everything is, so I assume it will take me longer to find it."

With a chuckle, he turned to grab the flint. "Yes, Madam," was all he could think to say that was proper. Her dress clung to her, dripping from the rain.

Within minutes, the fire was crackling merrily, and the chill began to abate. Mr. Darcy scooted two chairs so that they could sit facing the fire. He then pulled two more chairs that could hold their outerwear so that it could dry close to the fire as well. It would be another half an hour before Elizabeth stopped shivering, but he could not ask her to remove her dress without being very uncomfortable. This would have to do.

"Hopefully Anne does not catch cold." Elizabeth finally broke the silence.

"The colonel will hurry them home if they were not there already. Have no fear. He is very diligent. If they were not at Rosings before the storm hit, he will lead them to safety. Nary a drop shall hit my cousin, Anne." He paused to look at Elizabeth. "I do not like that you are so wet. I shall never forgive myself if you fall ill."

Elizabeth laughed. "As though you could control the weather. I wished to walk. I would have been wet whether or not you were with me." She paused as she took in his worried countenance. "Never fear. I never catch a chill from being caught in the rain, and I have no intentions of starting now." He still did not seem appeased, so she changed the subject. "When I was eleven, I insisted on going hunting with my father. He made it my job to start the fire in his lodge."

"Ah," Mr. Darcy exclaimed. "I suppose you were trained the way his son should have been."

"Except for the chance to go to Oxford, yes, I suppose I was. It was not his wish, however, that I learn such masculine endeavors. My mother and I were at odds because I was nothing like Jane, who sat quietly and readily took all instructions she was given. Jane had the patience to learn to excel at any number of feminine accomplishments, while I simply wanted to get sent out of the room so that I could go outside." She laughed at the memories running through her head. When she turned to look at Mr. Darcy, she found him staring at her with that look she used to think was disdain, but she could not see it the same way anymore. It seemed more intense than adoring now, but she supposed she could not see very well with the fire as the only light. The windows were almost completely blocked.

Feeling uncomfortable, she looked away and asked if the rain had let up.

Mr. Darcy took the cue and moved to the window and flung open the shutter. The sound of pelting rain continued, so he closed out the cold again.

"I fear we shall be here for at least another hour before the ground will be passable, and that is assuming the rain stops soon." He declared as he reclaimed his seat.

"At least the company is good." Elizabeth said, absentmindedly taking a stick and poking the fire to move the burning logs around. Flames danced at her ministrations.

Mr. Darcy smiled, and a heat grew in his heart, spreading out to the tips of his toes and fingers. Wishing to take her hand, he instead picked up a few logs and placed them over the flames Elizabeth had made. The fire was roaring to life, almost as quickly as his heart was fluttering.

Elizabeth wiped her hands over her skirt. "Well, are there any cards or games that can divert us?" She turned to him briefly and waited for him to return his attention to her. Catching his gaze, she lifted one eyebrow until he apologized for his woolgathering. She repeated her question.

"Of course. There are some cards in the desk." Blushing at being caught, he moved away to the cards and fiddled through a few drawers before he found the deck. "This deck is set for piquet. While it is not my favorite, it shall pass the time, if you are amenable."

Elizabeth agreed, so Mr. Darcy moved a small table between them. While he was shuffling and dealing the deck, Elizabeth poked the fire. After one log fell out of the flames, Mr. Darcy chuckled under his breath, "There comes a time when we must cease tending the fire and allow the fire to do its own work."

Elizabeth mumbled that her father used to say the same thing, earning a full throaty laugh from Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth blushed in response and turned to face the table. They played two rounds in silence except to keep track of their scores. While they were not behaving competitively, their scores were relatively close.

When it came time to shuffle again, Elizabeth found the courage to ask something that was on her mind. "Mr. Darcy, would it pain you to return to the conversation we had before our outing?"

Mr. Darcy set the deck down cautiously. "Of course, I should be happy to answer any questions you may have. I believe I was less guarded than I ought to have been and gave you quite a shock."

"You certainly did shock me. I do not believe I would have trusted your word if you had not." She paused to see his response, but he was carefully silent.

"Mr. Wickham spoke to me the day we met. At the time, I did not consider the impropriety of his being so unguarded. After seeing the reaction between the two of you and how you barely greeted him, I was so interested in learning the cause for such uncharacteristic behavior that I hadn't considered his veracity." She paused for breath.

The pause was horrid for Mr. Darcy, who attempted to give her time to gather her thoughts, but all manner of thoughts were tormenting him. There was much Wickham could have mentioned, none of which would be beneficial to himself. At last, he could not wait. He needed to know, so he asked, "Did he speak of Georgiana?"

"Not at our first meeting." She played her card and looked up, shocked at the anger building in his countenance. "He only ever said she was as proud as you and not very promising. He never spoke of his plans for her." She quickly spoke to assure him that his sister was protected. When he did not seem to be calming, she suggested, "perhaps you should go check on the rain for a moment."

Nodding, Mr. Darcy set his cards down and stepped outside. He was gone for a full five minutes at least. When he returned, Elizabeth noted his shirt had grown damp again, but at least the rain had obviously lessened to a drizzle.

"I am ashamed of how I acted then." Elizabeth resumed once he took his seat beside her. They did not touch their cards this time. Instead, they both stared into the flames, occasionally glancing at each other. "He flattered me by confiding in me, I thought."

"You must not blame yourself. I had given you no reason to think me a gentleman at the time. It is I who has reason to be ashamed of how I acted then."

Elizabeth smiled in sympathy. "I believe you were a finer gentleman for not succumbing to the penchant for gossip, though I did not give you that credit at the time. Jane was quick to support you, however. She was certain there was some misunderstanding. She said Bingley would not befriend you if the story Wickham related were true."

Mr. Darcy released a long breath and his head dropped between his knees as he realized that while Miss Jane Bennet was championing him and falling in love with Bingley, he was disparaging her and thinking her entirely mercenary. He could not help being relieved that at least that was behind him now. Bingley would court Jane properly this time. Eventually, he lifted his head up and asked her to relate what Wickham had said.

"If you wish to know. He said you grew up together."

"We did."

"And that your father preferred his company to yours to the point that you grew jealous of him."

Mr. Darcy laughed. "I was never jealous. My father took the time to teach me to care for Pemberley. He indulged Wickham because he knew his future would be less certain. I never wanted for affection as a youth. Perhaps I might have envied his easy disposition." He looked at Elizabeth, realizing that he had interrupted her story. "Continue, please."

Elizabeth watched him carefully. "He claimed to have been promised for the church, and that a living was to be his when it fell vacant."

"True to both claims, though I had seen very early at Cambridge that he ought not to be given a flock of parishioners to guide. I never made my father aware of his profligate proclivities, for my father's health was failing. I wished him to think well of his godson for as long as possible as he grew too sick to function properly. I wished to spare him needless pain."

Elizabeth nodded, realizing that Mr. Darcy's version made much more sense. Taking a deep breath, she finished the story, explaining that when the living fell vacant, Mr. Darcy had chosen to disregard his father's wishes and give the living to another man.

"Which is entirely true."

Elizabeth looked shocked, but before she could recover, he added, "But he had already given up his claim to the living when my father died. At the reading of the will, Wickham declared he had no intentions of taking orders. He declared a wish to study the law and requested three thousand pounds in lieu of the living. It ought to have been enough, but when Mr. Bradford died, he had somehow heard of it and came to request the living. I simply showed him his own signature and sent him on his way. Less than a year later, he sought to take revenge on me by eloping with Georgiana."

Finishing his story, he looked to Elizabeth, who had a tear slowly falling down her cheek. "I am sorry to give you pain."

Elizabeth brushed her tear aside. "I am not in pain, only I cannot believe I was so gullible to believe him without question. I should have seen through his lies, but I did not."

"He is an established charmer. Disbelief is certainly not in your character. He has fooled many knowledgeable people, my father included."

"I pride myself on my excellent judge of character, but I was entirely wrong about you and him. He flattered my pride, while…" she paused to think of a way to phrase her thoughts of him.

"While I had insulted you before I had even met you and did not care to change your opinion of me. I pray you rest easy that I had given you no reason to think well of me."

"That has changed now. You are a much better man than I had ever realized."

"Then do not chastise yourself unduly." He rose to his feet as the urge to pull her into his embrace became unbearable.

"I shall not." Elizabeth laughed. "My philosophy is to think only of the past as it gives me pleasure, and as soon as I am aware of how I went wrong so that I may avoid error in the future, I shall put it behind me completely."

When he did not turn around, Elizabeth moved to the window. "The rain has stopped."

"Indeed, it has." The scent of oranges overwhelmed him as she stood beside him. If only she knew how much she meant to him, but today was not the day for such a revelation. She was still learning who he was. "I believe we can return to Rosings now." He turned to observe her. "The fire is contained. We can leave it be. I shall send a servant to ensure the fire is well and truly out once we return."

"Rosings has plenty of servants to help with such matters." Elizabeth said absentmindedly.

"Of course." Mr. Darcy knew not how to respond, so he picked up their outerwear, and they awkwardly prepared to leave.

"Do not mind me, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth pleaded. "I am simply thinking over everything again. I shall be myself soon. Shall we resume our walk?" He offered her his arm, and she offered her hand, which he reverently placed on his sleeve. As they walked out of the house, they met with bright sunshine forcing them to blink repeatedly to recover.

They finished the walk to Rosings by sharing stories of hunting with their fathers. Mr. Darcy was relieved Mr. Bennet had never allowed Elizabeth to fire a gun as a child. However, he could easily picture her attempting to do so, and he briefly wondered if she would someday convince him to teach her. He could stand behind her and show her the proper position to hold the rifle. He had to be careful not to dwell on these thoughts, for Elizabeth kept asking him questions and he wished to be fully attentive for the rest of the walk.

When they parted on the stairs, Mr. Darcy took the opportunity to kiss her knuckles again as he bowed over her ungloved hand.

AN: Thanks for reading!