Mr. Darcy's Refuge

by Abigail Reynolds

  The encounter left her even more restless. She blew on the window glass to create a fog, then drew a design in it, a spiral that tumbled into itself. She needed to find a way to distract herself. Perhaps she should write Jane a letter, though there was a great deal she would need to leave out.

  The light tap at her door came not quite as a surprise, more an inevitability. She pressed her hand to her mouth for a moment, then, with a resolution that surprised her, she patted her hair into place and wrapped the shawl more firmly around herself before opening the door.

  As she expected, Darcy stood on the other side. He stepped back and bowed to her, his expression serious. “Miss Bennet, would you be kind enough to grant me the honour of a few minutes’ conversation? Not here, of course – perhaps in the sitting room?”

  “If you do not object, I would prefer to walk outside. I have been indoors all day.”

  “As you wish. The skies have cleared enough that you can see the stars – but I suppose that you have already discovered that.”

  She glanced over to the window with a hint of a smile. “It did not pass unnoticed.”

  He relaxed slightly. “I will await you downstairs, then.”

  Elizabeth cast a glance at the hook where her detested bonnet hung. If he could go out without a hat, so could she. “I will come now.” It would be interesting to see if he said anything about her lack of bonnet and gloves – and after all, no one would see her except him.

  There was a flash of something in his eyes, but he merely held the door open for her. With a nod, she followed him down the dark passageway to the steps. No sound came from Jenny’s room, but downstairs Elizabeth noted that a light still burned in the dining room. She wondered if it was Sally at work or Colonel Fitzwilliam. She hoped for the former. Until the thought of the colonel discovering them crossed her mind, she had not realized how very furtive they would appear, leaving the house alone together at this time of night. At least with the roads in their current condition, no one would consider elopement a possibility! She could not help giving a soft laugh at the thought as Darcy opened the front door for her.

  He closed the door behind him quietly. “Something amuses you, Miss Bennet?”

  “Only a bit of silliness.” When he continued to look at her inquisitively, she said, “Slipping out of the house at night with a gentleman is supposed to indicate an elopement. I was picturing a hapless pair of lovers returning to the house and saying, “We tried to go to Gretna Green, but the bridge was out.” As I said, just foolishness.”

  Darcy chuckled. “No, I believe Gretna Green is quite out of the question tonight, but we can still take a walk. Do you have a preference in direction?”

  She considered. For propriety’s sake they should stay within view of the house, but she longed to escape further, and she had been alone with Darcy so much in the last two days that she knew she would be safe. “Is it too muddy to go down by the river?”

  “No more than anywhere else at the moment. The path is clear for a short way, and the river is quieter tonight.”

  She folded her hands behind her back to obviate the question of whether he should offer her his arm. There was no point in taking risks, after all. “Then let us go there.”

  They walked side by side without a word for several minutes until Elizabeth said, “For a gentleman desiring a conversation, you are remarkably silent.”

  “You are, of course, correct. I am better at silence than conversation, and I have been trying to decide where to start.”

  “It is traditional to start at the beginning,” she said with mock gravity, teasing to hide the anxiety his words engendered in her.

  “The beginning is the problem in this case. Very well, Miss Bennet, I have realized that some of what I said to you two nights ago may have come out in a manner other than I intended. I have,” he said dryly, “something of a gift for expressing myself in a manner that sounds offensive when I mean nothing of the sort.”

  “We all have our unique talents.” She gave him a sidelong glance, but could not read his expression in the darkness.

  “In that case, your gifts must be far superior to mine! But my point is that I did not mean to insult your family when I tried to enumerate the obstacles my affection had to overcome, but I fear that is what I did. While there is an inequity of income and, to some extent, status, I know your family is as dear to you as my own is to me.” There. He had said it.

  Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose. “Some dearer than others, of course,” she said with a teasing inflection.

  He glanced at her, wondering if she referred to his aunt’s disagreeable behavior. It was true that his relations could be just as embarrassing as hers. “I should also mention that, while my relatives may have had other plans for my marriage, I am fortunate in that I need answer to no one but myself in my choice.”

  “But there are, of course, my low connections and how they will affect your standing in society.” She was not, after all, a princess in the tower awaiting her knight; she was lowly Cinderella, though she would hardly label Darcy a prince.

  How should he handle this? He remembered Richard’s words about acknowledging inequality without degrading her. “You would think me either a fool or a liar if I claimed it would have no effect, but those who would judge me by it are not ones whose opinions I value. In fairness I should tell you that I am not well received in the ton as it is, in part because my family name still bears some slight taint from the manner of my parents’ marriage, since all the bridges between them and Gretna Green were intact. The larger part is owing to my gift of giving offense, and also because I have never been able to bring myself to care who receives vouchers to Almack’s and who does not. The ton tolerates me because of my fortune, and I tolerate them because I have a sister who must be launched into society soon. If you were hoping I could offer a better entrée into the ton, I am sorry to disappoint you.”

  To his relief, Elizabeth laughed. “Of all the concerns I have considered in this matter, I have not given the ton even one thought.”

  “I am glad.” Some ridiculous sense of honor compelled him to say, “My cousin is well accepted in the ton.”

  She stopped and turned to face him. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “It is probably unwise of me to point out his virtues, but it seems only fair to tell you the truth. I would not want…” His throat tightened to the point where he no longer knew if he could manage to say the words. Finally, in a low, half-strangled voice, he said, “I would not want you to be unhappy.”

  To his utter astonishment, this time she tucked her hand in his arm as she began to walk again. He had not offered her his arm because he thought it would make her uncomfortable, so it was her decision. He could not understand it, but was grateful for small miracles.

  “You are very generous, then. I take it that Colonel Fitzwilliam has told you of our conversation?” She seemed to be choosing her words with unusual care.

  “He did.” Darcy did not trust himself to say anything more on that topic. “Along with some commentary on what he considers to be my failings.”

  Elizabeth was grateful now for the darkness. “Oh, my. That sounds…. unpleasant.”

  “It was unexpected. We should stop here, or your feet will become acquainted with the river’s new path.”

  “The water is higher than I had expected.”

  “But calmer than it was this morning.”

  “Except, perhaps, when someone throws rocks into it?”

  There was a long silence. “It seemed preferable to fisticuffs.”

  “Infinitely preferable.”

  “Besides, fighting with Richard is pointless. At rough and tumble fighting, he would win. In a boxing salon, I would triumph. Pistols – he would win. Swords – I would win. There is no sport in it. One learns these things, growing up together.” He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice, but suspected he had not been fully successful. “He thinks that I expect everyone to fall in with my plans regardl
ess of their own desires.”

  “Do you?”

  “At times, yes. It is part of my role as master of Pemberley. Richard does not perceive that there are also times when I have no choices.” Now he definitely sounded bitter.

  “Such as?”

  He took a deep breath to calm himself, but it did no good. “Do you think I wanted to leave you with him this afternoon and to check on the tenants instead? I knew that he admires you and that the two of you would be laughing and joking together while I was in the midst of chaos and filth, trying to make sure that no one had succumbed to illness. It happens after floods – a day or two later, they develop bloody flux, and some of them die. I saw it happen at Pemberley once, and my father told me it is common. He thought it was some ill humour native to flood waters, but it did not stop him from doing his duty even when it put him at risk, not until he himself became ill. Fortunately, with excellent care, he recovered eventually.” He could not hide his anger. “Yes, I would have much preferred to stay in the sitting room with you. But I could not.”

  “I see.” After a moment she added, “And you exposed yourself to the flood waters as well this morning.”

  “Perhaps you think I should have directed them from the bank, allowing them to take risks I was not willing to. I am sorry; I should not be saying any of this to you. Particularly if you and Richard….” He did not finish.

  Elizabeth surprised herself. “I do not think it likely that you will need to worry about that.”

  “You do not?” His astonishment and relief were apparent. “But you seem to enjoy his company.”

  “I like him quite well – but not his proposal. It is just… well, let me explain it differently. If I were to discover that one of my sisters cared deeply for a gentleman whom I also admired, it would not matter to me how much I liked him. Even if I knew he did not care for her, he could be nothing more than a friend to me. Had I been particularly intrigued by Mr. Bingley – which, incidentally, I was not - I would never have considered him as a suitor because I knew how much Jane cared for him. Perhaps it is different between gentleman, but I cannot see my way clear to it.” She hoped she was not making a mistake in saying this, but he had been very honest with her, and she owed him the same in return.

  His free hand closed over hers as it rested on his arm. “Thank you. You have spared me from a most unpleasant night of reflections.”

  Although he clasped her hand gently, the strength of his fingers was apparent. His hand, warmer than she would have expected, enclosed hers almost completely in a way that was simultaneously comforting and disconcerting, leaving her senses off balance, poised between a desire to lean closer to him and an equally powerful urge to flee.

  Her choice to leave aside her gloves had been a serious mistake. No wonder everyone expected young ladies to be gloved, if this sort of sensation was what could be expected from bare-handed contact with a gentleman! And it seemed more intimate by the second.

  Hastily she said, “That does not mean anything else has changed, simply that I do not see that particular option as open to me.”

  “I understand.” This time, though, his voice sounded somewhat empty. He released her hand. “Should we return to the parsonage?”

  Back to the suffocating stillness, back to the tensions and polite rules? “Only if all the suitable stones are already in the river.”

  It was a moment before he laughed. “I suspect there may be a few I overlooked last time. Would you like one?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She took her hand from his arm as he scuffed about the ground with his boots, pausing occasionally to collect something. It was definitely a side of Mr. Darcy that she would not have expected.

  He returned and held out his full hands. “For milady’s pleasure.”

  Apparently Cinderella had transformed back into the fairy tale princess. Elizabeth leaned closer, but could make out nothing but a jumble of shapes. She selected one at random and hefted it in her hand, feeling the irregular shape and weight of it before stepping forward and tossing it in the swollen river. It disappeared into the darkness and landed with a gratifying plop. She dusted off her hands. “Definitely satisfying,” she announced.

  She felt rather than saw his smile as he said, “It can be useful on occasion.” He drew back one arm and hurled a rock upstream. The splash sounded impressively far away.

  “You seem quite practiced at that!” she said.

  “Richard and I used to have contests on who could throw the furthest.”

  “Who won?”

  “The honors tended to be divided, so we had to work even harder at it.”

  “Well, you may be reassured that you could easily defeat me with either sword or pistol as well as throwing rocks and riding horses, though I would prefer to avoid contemplation of fisticuffs.”

  “And in what skill could you defeat me?” He handed her another stone.

  She cocked her head to one side. “Teasing. I fancy my skills at teasing exceed yours.”

  “You are quite right. I would be sorry sport at that, though I am happy to serve as a target any time you wish to practice. I rather enjoy being teased, at least by you.”

  “See, you do have some rudimentary skills in that regard, but it is good of you to concede defeat so easily.” She threw the stone, though judging by its sound it went no further than the last.

  “That is because you have defeated me in so many ways, Miss Bennet.” His voice was amused now, but still she felt a pang.

  “It was quite unintentionally done, I assure you.” The surface of the water in front of her grew brighter and more turbulent as the moon broke through the clouds once again.

  “I am sure it was. I know you well enough to believe you would not deliberately injure anyone.”

  Elizabeth bit her lip. It was so much harder to keep her distance from him when he was gentle. If he had ever spoken to her like this before, she might not have disliked him so much. And it had been easier to speak freely when she could not see him so clearly. Now, with the moonlight casting shadows on the sharp lines of his face, the safety she had found in the darkness fled as well. “I fear you are too kind to me. The night is become chilly; perhaps it is time to return.”

  “As you wish.” He did not offer his arm as he fell into step beside her, and she felt the lack of it, even though the path was clearer in her view now.

  When they were almost back to the house, he said in a constrained voice, “I apologize if I have offended you. I did not mean to do so.”

  “No, you did nothing at all to offend me. You are simply not the person I once thought you to be, and it confuses me.” She aimed for a light, pleasant tone.

  He opened the door for her. “I will have to hope that is an improvement.”

  She laughed. “Given my past opinion of you, I would have to say it is to the good. Good night, Mr. Darcy.” She dipped a curtsey.

  “Good night, Miss Bennet.” He bowed, then watched her retreating back thoughtfully.

  Chapter 9

  Elizabeth broke her fast in her room in the morning since all the options awaiting her downstairs would be uncomfortable at best and possibly much worse. If both Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were already there, she suspected there would be tension. If it was the colonel alone, she would have to find a tactful way to refuse him. If it was only Mr. Darcy – well, then it would depend on which Mr. Darcy it was. The silent, staring Darcy? The dryly humorous one? Or the insulting one, or the flirtatious, or the playful, or the one in pain, or the darkly dutiful Darcy, or perhaps one she had yet to meet? Vexing, complicated man! The colonel seemed comfortingly simple by comparison. If neither were there, she would sit in suspense wondering which would appear first. Staying in her room alone all day was beginning to sound appealing.

  She would not be such a coward, though, so after finishing her hot chocolate, she took a deep breath and headed downstairs. She found Colonel Fitzwilliam in the dining room with the tray of rolls and pastries. He
greeted her with his customary good cheer, which served as a reminder that his amiability would likely smooth the way through the difficult discussion to come.

  Helping herself to a cup of coffee more to give herself something to do with her hands than out of any desire to drink it, she said, “Have you seen Mr. Darcy this morning?”

  His raised eyebrow showed he was not unaware of the importance of the question. “He was up and away before I came down. The maid says he was off to the barn, whatever that might mean.”

  “The poor folk displaced by the flood are being housed in a neighbor’s barn. Mr. Darcy has been most conscientious about seeing their needs are met.” She wondered if he had left to give her the opportunity to refuse his cousin more privately.