"I think we should head to Longbourn." Darcy said as they mounted. Bingley nodded his agreement and with nothing else to be said, Darcy and Bingley rode out into the storm, the wind whipping their coats and rain pelting their faces. The previously well-maintained road had turned into a treacherous path of mud and standing water. Fallen branches littered their way, forcing them to slow their pace and navigate carefully.
Darcy was wet to the skin within a few minutes, he would rather have stayed warm and dry inside the house, but his honour would never have allowed him to let Bingley go on his own. Most likely Elizabeth Bennet was safe and sound at Longbourn, and the chase was having some trouble returning to Netherfield.
As they rode, Bingley shouted over the howling wind, "I hope Miss Elizabeth found shelter before the worst of this hit."
Darcy grunted in agreement, his eyes scanning the road ahead. They had had to slow their pace due to the state of the road. Visibility was poor. But out of the haze figures started to appear. One on horseback, three walking and a second horse walking without a rider.
"Hey There, is Miss Bennet with you?" Bingley called out.
The lady herself answered. "I am indeed Mr Bingley and very pleased to see you."
As they draw closer Darcy saw that Miss Elizabeth was not the figure on horseback put one of the three who was walking albeit with a limp. He swung himself down from his horse and went to her. Bingley followed suit.
"Miss Bennet are you hurt?" He asked her.
ooOoo
Elizabeth shivered, the cold rain seeping through her clothes. The driver approached her, shouting to be heard over the wind.
"Miss Bennet, we cannot continue to Longbourn in this carriage." He gestured towards the damaged vehicle. "We're about a mile from Netherfield. Would you prefer we return there or attempt to reach Longbourn?"
Elizabeth paused, weighing her options. Walking two miles to Longbourn in this weather seemed daunting, but the shorter distance to Netherfield was appealing. If the storm worsened, the roads might become impassable, preventing her from seeing Jane. She looked down at her mud-covered boots, streams of water running around her feet.
"Netherfield, I believe, would be best," she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.
The driver nodded. "Very good, Miss. Perhaps you could ride one of the horses? The black one has a good temperament, though he's not as gentle as a mare."
Elizabeth started, realizing they intended for her to ride. "I am no horsewoman," she said flatly, memories of her childhood accident flooding back.
"I'm sure you'll manage, Miss," the driver said encouragingly, but at that moment, a gust of wind stole his hat. As he turned to grab it, he slipped and fell into the mud.
Elizabeth looked at the horse, water streaming down its sides. Its head was held high, and it snorted, seeming far more imposing than the ponies she'd ridden as a girl. "I cannot ride him, however gentle he may be," she said, more composure in her voice than she felt.
The driver and footman exchanged uncertain glances. "We won't be able to get another carriage down here in this weather," the footman said, gesturing to the muddy road.
"Then I will walk," Elizabeth declared, trying to ignore the pain in her ankle as she took a step through the mud and water.
She had only managed a few limping steps when she heard the sound of approaching horses. Squinting through the rain, she saw two riders approaching. As they drew nearer, she recognized Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy.
"Hey there, is Miss Bennet with you?" Mr Bingley called out.
"I am indeed, Mr Bingley," Elizabeth replied, relief evident in her voice despite her determination to manage on her own. "And very pleased to see you."
As the gentlemen dismounted and approached, Elizabeth steeled herself, determined not to appear as vulnerable as she felt. Mr Darcy reached her first, concern etched on his usually impassive face.
"Miss Bennet, are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes taking in her bedraggled appearance and obvious limp.
ooOoo
Elizabeth gasped beside Darcy, her hands to her mouth. Darcy looked down at her. She looked so small and cold. Her face was white. She took a step towards the men, and winced sharply, clearly she had forgotten about her ankle. He reached out to steady her.
"Miss Bennet, you are not going to be able to walk back to Netherfield with your ankle," Darcy said, his brow furrowed with concern.
Elizabeth looked up at him, tears in her eyes despite the rain. She lowered her head and nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words.
Darcy turned to Bingley. "Bingley, I'll take Miss Bennet back to Netherfield. Could you ride ahead and have them prepare for our arrival? Miss Bennet will need dry clothes and perhaps a doctor for her ankle."
"Of course, Darcy," Bingley agreed quickly. "I'll see to it at once. But what about you?"
"I'll walk alongside my horse. Miss Bennet can ride, and I'll lead him. We'll manage."
Bingley nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes as he glanced at Elizabeth's pale face. "Very well. I'll return with assistance as soon as possible."
Darcy turned back to Elizabeth, noticing her apprehension as she eyed the horse. "Miss Bennet," he said gently, "I understand you're not comfortable with riding, but I assure you, my horse is very gentle. I'll help you up and walk beside you the entire way. We'll go as slowly as you need."
Elizabeth bit her lip, clearly torn between her fear and the necessity of the situation. After a moment, she gave a small nod.
With great care, Darcy helped Elizabeth towards his horse. He spoke softly to the animal, calming it, before turning his attention back to Elizabeth. "I'm going to lift you up now," he explained. "Just hold onto the pommel - that's the front of the saddle - and I'll make sure you're settled."
Elizabeth tensed as Darcy's hands encircled her waist, but she allowed him to lift her onto the horse. She gripped the pommel tightly, her knuckles white with the effort.
Darcy adjusted her skirts and made sure her feet were properly positioned in the stirrups. "There," he said, his voice reassuring. "You're doing well. Just keep holding on, and I'll lead the horse. We'll go slowly."
Elizabeth nodded, too exhausted and in pain to argue. Darcy took the reins in hand, preparing to lead the horse on foot.
"I'll be back as soon as I can with help," Bingley called as he mounted his horse and set off towards Netherfield.
Darcy and Elizabeth began their slow journey, with Darcy walking steadily beside the horse, one hand on the reins, his eyes frequently darting up to check on Elizabeth's comfort.
The rain continued to pour, soaking them both, but Darcy paid it no mind. His focus was solely on guiding them safely through the muddy path and ensuring Miss Elizabeth's well-being. She rode on his horse and he walked by her side. The sound of the horse's hooves muffled by the muddy ground and the persistent rain.
ooOoo
Elizabeth's heart raced as she looked at Mr Darcy, acutely aware of her bedraggled appearance and the pain radiating from her ankle. The horses behind him seemed to loom large, their very presence making her palms sweat despite the cold rain.
"Just my ankle," she managed to reply, trying to keep her voice steady. "I must have twisted it when the carriage overturned."
Mr Darcy's brow furrowed with concern. "You cannot walk back to Netherfield in this condition, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth knew he was right, but the alternative seemed even more daunting. She glanced at the horses again, unable to suppress a shudder. Mr Darcy followed her gaze, a look of understanding dawning on his face.
"Miss Bennet," he said, his voice gentler than she had ever heard it, "are you afraid of horses?"
Elizabeth felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, but she nodded. There was no use denying it now. "Yes," she admitted. "I had an accident as a child. I haven't been able to ride since."
Mr Darcy exchanged a glance with Mr Bingley, who had joined them. For a moment, Elizabeth feared they would insist she ride, but to her surprise, Mr Darcy turned back to her with a determined look.
"Then I shall walk beside you," he declared. "You can ride my horse, and I'll lead him. We'll go as slowly as you need."
Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise. "Mr Darcy, I couldn't possibly—"
"I insist," he said firmly, but not unkindly. "Your health and safety are paramount."
As Mr Bingley rode off to prepare for their arrival at Netherfield, Mr Darcy carefully helped Elizabeth towards his horse. She felt her breath catch as they approached the animal, its size even more intimidating up close.
"I'm going to lift you up now," Mr Darcy explained, his voice low and reassuring. "Just hold onto the pommel - that's the front of the saddle - and I'll make sure you're settled."
Elizabeth nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As Mr Darcy's hands encircled her waist, she was startled by their warmth through her rain-soaked dress. For a moment, the sensation distracted her from her fear. Then, as he lifted her, the ground fell away beneath her feet, and panic surged anew.
She scrambled to grip the pommel, her fingers white-knuckled and trembling. The leather was slick with rain, and she felt terrifyingly unsteady. The horse shifted slightly beneath her, and Elizabeth had to bite back a whimper of fear.
Mr Darcy's steady hands remained on her waist until she was fully seated, his presence an anchor in the storm of her terror. "There," he said, his voice cutting through her panic. "You're doing well. Just keep holding on, and I'll be right here beside you the entire time."
As they set off, Elizabeth couldn't help but marvel at the sight of Mr Darcy trudging through the mud beside the horse, one hand on the reins, his eyes frequently darting up to check on her. Despite her fear, despite the rain and the cold and the pain in her ankle, Elizabeth felt a sudden rush of gratitude for his patience and care.
The wind howled around them as they made their slow progress towards Netherfield. Elizabeth clung to the pommel, her entire body tense with fear. Each step of the horse beneath her sent a fresh wave of panic through her, and she found herself holding her breath, only to release it in short, sharp gasps.
Darcy trudged through the mud beside his horse, one hand firmly on the reins. He glanced frequently up at Elizabeth, noting her white-knuckled grip and rigid posture. Her distress was palpable, and he felt a strong urge to comfort her, to ease her fear somehow.
"Miss Bennet," he called over the sound of the wind and rain. "Are you managing?"
Elizabeth startled at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide as she looked down at him. "Y-yes," she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm quite alright, thank you."
Darcy wasn't convinced. He could see the tremor in her hands, the way she flinched at every movement of the horse. An idea struck him.
"My sister, Georgiana, was once afraid of horses," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the storm. "She had a fall when she was young, much like yourself."
Despite her fear, Elizabeth found herself curious. "And did she overcome her fear?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the wind.
Darcy nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "She did, with time and patience. I used to walk beside her horse, just as I'm doing now, talking to her to distract her from her fear."
Elizabeth felt a small spark of hope at his words. "What did you talk about?" she asked, grateful for the distraction.
"Oh, all sorts of things," Darcy replied, his breath slightly laboured from the exertion of walking through the muddy ground. "Books we had read, music she was learning to play. Sometimes I would tell her stories of my time at Cambridge."
As Darcy continued to speak, sharing anecdotes of Georgiana's progress and his own experiences, Elizabeth found her grip on the pommel loosening ever so slightly. The sound of his voice, steady and calm over the howling wind, became an anchor, something to focus on besides her fear and the movement of the horse beneath her.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly, but Darcy's constant stream of conversation helped to mark its passage. He told her of Pemberley in different seasons, of his favourite hiding spots as a child, of the time Georgiana's dog had chased a flock of sheep into the library.
Elizabeth found herself laughing despite her fear and discomfort. The image of sheep in a grand library was too absurd not to elicit a smile.
"I can scarcely imagine it," she said, her voice a bit steadier now. "What did your father say?"
Darcy's expression softened at the memory. "He was more amused than angry, truth be told. He helped us chase them out, laughing all the while."
As they continued their slow journey, the rain began to ease slightly, though the wind still whipped around them. Elizabeth realized with surprise that she had relaxed somewhat, her death grip on the pommel loosening. Mr Darcy's steady stream of conversation had indeed served its purpose, distracting her from her fear.
"Mr Darcy," she said, during a lull in the conversation. "I… I want to thank you. For your kindness and patience. I know I must seem terribly silly, being so afraid."
Darcy looked up at her, shaking his head emphatically. "Not at all, Miss Bennet. Fear is not something we choose, and you're showing great courage by facing yours."
Elizabeth felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words, so at odds with the cold rain still pelting them. She found herself seeing Mr Darcy in a new light, his usual reserve replaced by a gentle consideration she had not known him capable of.
As Netherfield finally came into view through the gloom, Elizabeth realized that while the journey had indeed felt like an age, it had also passed more quickly than she could have imagined. And though she was still eager to dismount, she found herself oddly reluctant for this moment of unexpected connection with Mr Darcy to end.