Mr. Darcy's Promise

by Jeanna Ellsworth

  Colonel Fitzwilliam pulled back, “Dear Georgie, why all the tears? My joke was not that bad, was it?”

  “No . . . well, I did not hear it. I am so sorry, I just cannot believe you are here.” She turned to Elizabeth and tried to smile. “I am such a watering pot!”

  They all laughed, the worried air momentarily easing as they settled in to talk eagerly of all that had happened in the past three weeks. After a short while, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana left to freshen up, but as Darcy and Elizabeth had already done so, they remained in the drawing room.

  At first they sat in awkward silence. Elizabeth remembered what Serafina had told her earlier. She must be direct if she wanted him to declare himself. Darcy sought for some neutral topic of conversation, all the while trying not to think about their afternoon together.

  With both of their deeper thoughts preoccupied, Darcy opened the conversation. “So how is the Autumn Festival planning going?”

  “Very well, we started handing out the invitations today. I will go out again tomorrow but the rest we will just have delivered.” Elizabeth hadn’t been uncomfortable in his presence for a while, but now she felt acutely aware of how her gaze kept returning to the rise and fall of his cravat. “I am excited to see how Pemberley throws a ball.”

  Darcy laughed, “It is not a ball in the true sense. But I am sure now that you are here there will be many of opportunities to host a real ball. I have received many letters congratulating me on my marriage and they are all anxious to meet you. I am sure when you are ready we can start having dinner parties. I have even heard from Bingley, who is known for his terrible letter writing habits. He would like me to stand up with him for his wedding in December.” He saw her eyes light up. “Would you like to plan a visit to Longbourn in just over a month?”

  “Oh yes! I would not want to miss Jane’s wedding for anything! I have wanted to ask you if we could go since she asked me to stand up with her before we left Hertfordshire.”

  “She asked you before our wedding? Why have you not asked me since then?” Darcy wanted her to feel comfortable with asking him anything. The fact that she hadn’t yet indicated she had not yet opened her heart fully to him, and he found himself troubled by the thought.

  Elizabeth noticed the frown and her heart sank. She wanted to see those smiling eyes that she had gotten so used to. “If I am not mistaken, we have talked very little about their engagement. I also did not know what the weather is like in early December. I truly did not know it would even be possible to travel at that time.” She started thinking about the chicks that would be hatching in less than a week. It was the end of October and winter storms started mid-December back home. “When do the winter storms start here?”

  He understood that what she was truly asking was if the chicks would survive the winter. “Usually in the beginning of December, but some years it is earlier. During other years like this one, it seems the warm weather holds until nearly Christmas. But I do not believe I have had a Christmas in years that did not have snow.” There, he had said it. Whatever these chicks meant to her, she knows now what to expect.

  “So possibly before December or Christmastime? That is either four weeks or eight.”

  Darcy leaned forward and touched her hand, “How long does it take for the chicks to get their feathers?” There was no use dancing around what they were really talking about. Bingley’s wedding had nothing to do with the topic.

  Elizabeth’s eyes grew tearful. “At least six weeks. But they are not due until next week. Probably the night after the festival.”

  Darcy didn’t need his Cambridge mathematics to calculate that unless it remained unusually warm, the chicks would not make it. “Is there anything we can do to help them stay warm until their feathers come in?” If there was, he would do it. He didn’t know why, but they were special to her.

  “I have heard of bringing them indoors, but the risk of them not developing the winter resistance is high if we do that. It could harm them more than help them. Sometimes when we think we are helping, our actions make things more difficult. I am afraid the only thing to do is to see if the winter storms will stay away until they are healthy and strong. These things take time. I just wish there was some way to control it, but nature has its own timetable.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand but looked away, her eyes glossing over tears.

  More riddles about the chickens? I wish I understood what she was really talking about!

  *****

  Two days later, Darcy suggested a picnic at his favorite part of the stream. Georgiana declined, and Colonel Fitzwilliam seeing an opportunity to corner Georgiana about the mood he had noticed since he had arrived, declined as well. He was one of her guardians and there was something deeply troubling her. She usually was bright and cheerful around him, but she was being cryptic in her conversations, hardly offering any information nor contributing in any way. He had tried to ask Darcy about it, but Darcy simply shrugged and said he didn’t think it was anything big. Darcy told him Elizabeth had talked with her and never came to him with any concerns. Well, if she told Elizabeth, then she is certain to tell me. Colonel Fitzwilliam wished them well and watched them leave.

  Darcy explained to Elizabeth that it was quite a walk, maybe even a bit of a hike, but the view was worth it. She followed him up into the forest to the north, weaving through trees and over boulders. They walked together for at least two hours, laughing and enjoying the landscape before they came to an open area with tall, silvery grasses.

  “You have a meadow too? Now I know Pemberley has everything I could possibly want!” Elizabeth had stopped walking at the edge of the meadow to take in the view. She gazed out at the high flat plain, seeing the rise of hills further north. To the south, she could tell that it promised a beautiful view, and her feet, although weary, started taking her that way.

  He was pleased to hear such praise of Pemberley. “It is not so much a meadow as it is a plateau. See, if you look towards where you are going, there is a great drop off. Do you remember the cliffs you see from the gardens way off to the northwest?”

  “We walked that far up? Goodness, no wonder my legs are tired! I think you intend to test my reputation as a great walker!” Elizabeth laughed to show that she was only teasing, but knew there was an element of truth to it all the same.

  “Come see the view from the cliff’s edge. It is spectacular, and on a day as hot as this you will appreciate the breeze.” The October afternoon could have easily been mistaken for a summer’s day; there was no wind and the sun was beating down on them hard. The sky was clear blue and mostly cloudless, with a few dotting the horizon. Elizabeth suspected that the unusually hot weather made it somewhat uncomfortable to be exerting oneself as they did. As they neared the rocky edge, Darcy instinctively took her arm. He would do anything to protect her and ensure her safety. They just stood arm-in-arm for several minutes, gazing out at the view in awe.

  Pointing to the south, Darcy said, “Over that hill you would see Lambton. You can barely make out the road to Pemberley, but it is there, winding through those trees. And over there is where my father used to take me shooting, you can see the lake has marshes where all kinds of birds live and migrate to and from each season. We would hunt all autumn and we would talk about everything. He loved most to talk about how he fell in love with my mother. She was already sick at that time, so it made him feel better to recall happier times.”

  Elizabeth saw a very faraway look in William’s eyes. “Tell me about them. How did they fall in love?” She listened as he retold the story that he must have heard many times, so richly embroidered with detail was it. She listened as he told of other ladies who wanted his father, but that his father only had eyes for his mother. She listened as he told of how when they first danced, there was a spark of fire that burned as they touched, and how his father knew that she was the only one he could ever be prevailed upon to marry. He told of their courtship and their first kiss. She listened to his words, but heard what we
nt unspoken between each of them. His words may have been about his parents but he was speaking metaphorically as well. It made her blush to think that he might be talking about her as well. Perhaps all but the first kiss; that hadn’t happened yet. This thought made her blush even more, thinking of how much she longed to have him kiss her. Maybe if I just step closer he will kiss me. She did so and looked up at his thoughtful eyes.

  His body told him before his eyes did that she had stepped closer. She was holding his arm close to herself. He tried to calm his heart but she was so near him that he was certain she would hear its gallop. He could smell her fresh linen and lavender scent, and he allowed himself one good intake of the fragrance before he realized that wasn’t such a good idea. He could feel her breath along his neckline which meant she was looking up at him, her face inches away. It was as if she wanted him to kiss her. Could she be ready? Could her heart have changed enough to welcome such a kiss? He knew if he looked down at her, he would capture her beautiful full lips with his own and hold her close, tasting her sweetness. He inhaled deeply through his mouth, breaking the intoxicating spell that bound his body to hers, and then stepped away. “I want to show you the stream.” She didn’t realize what a dangerous game she was playing. They were very secluded and if he kissed her he might not be able to stop.

  Her brow furrowed up and her lips drew together in a faint pout. Serafina’s words rung in her head again. “You have to be direct if you want a man to do something.” She ran through several schemes in her head, but would any of them work? She had no experience in wooing men. And it seemed to be that this particular man was incredibly talented in self-control. It was as if keeping that promise meant the world to him. He was going to be trustworthy if his life depended on it. Perhaps a little too trustworthy.

  They reached a small stream that was about a foot deep. Through the clear water, she could see a great deal of moss on the rocky bed beneath. She stepped closer and reached down to touch the water. “Oh, it is so cold!”

  “Yes, the hills over there have a natural spring which feeds into this. I have explored the cave several times and seen it myself. You probably will not get cleaner water anywhere in the area.” Darcy had just started to regain control over his thoughts when Elizabeth sat down at the water’s edge and started unlacing her boots. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I am going to put my tired feet in the water! What else?” She knew a lady didn’t do such things, especially when a man was present, but he was her husband after all. And if he didn’t like it then he could look away . . . And if he does like it maybe I will get my first kiss! She was reminded of that first night at Darcy House, when she was mortified to have Serafina unlace her boots in front of him. A lot had changed since then. He gave her a surprised look and then sat down next to her.

  “Well then, I cannot have a lady be unescorted in such dangerous waters . . .” He laughed, glancing down at the slight current. She would be in very little danger, of course, but he could not resist the temptation. He started removing his boots too.

  She let out a laugh, “No sir, a gentleman would never leave a lady in such need!” She tugged at her boots, but her feet were somewhat swollen and she had to work to get them off. He reached over to help just before she finally pulled off the last one. She colored a little to think he was offering to help her take off her boots.

  Mr. Darcy had kept himself occupied with removing his own boots, but when she struggled with her own, he had instinctively gone to help. He hadn’t meant to offer; he just saw she needed help, and had reached to do so. He caught a glimpse of Elizabeth pulling up her skirts enough to keep them from dragging in the weeds and pebbles. Her delicate feet walked carefully towards the stream. He had to focus on his own task, but it was near-impossible to do so when he thought of how he had never seen her feet or ankles before. He loved the way she crossed them when she sat down and tucked them under her when she was deep into reading a book, or how tempting they were to look at when she tapped them in the library at Netherfield while fully absorbed in her book. He was more than a little mesmerized at his first glimpse of them. She had her back to him so he continued to watch them carefully make each step towards the water. He knew he should play the gentleman and look away but he could not make himself do it. Even her step was lovely, carefully picking her way across the gravel. When she reached the water, she arched her foot, dipping one toe in first.

  “Oh!” Elizabeth gratefully sank her whole foot into the water. “That feels so good!” She started walking out towards the middle of the stream. Once she was halfway there, she turned to Mr. Darcy, and, with a mocking smile, added, “Well, are you just going to watch or are you going to help your lady in these turbulent and dangerous waters?” For some reason, his cheeks were flushed pink. He gave her a small, knowing smile before he spoke.

  “Halt, woman! Thou shalt not proceed without the proper protection! I come to secure your safety!” He made quick work of removing his last boot. His feet were hardly calloused, and he found the rocks hurt a little as he walked. He stepped into the freezing water. He admitted the coolness was pleasurable, but he found walking on the mossy rocks was a little tricky. He noticed there were several boulders spaced throughout the stream poking their tops out of the water. He made his way out into the middle, navigating around some of the larger boulders, to make his way to where she was. He found it was slightly deeper than expected and bent over to roll his breeches up further.

  “Do not tempt me, sir.”

  He stood back up. He knew how he was being tempted, but the humor in her voice tipped him off that her brand of temptation was much different from his. “And how is rolling up my pants tempting, madam?”

  “Now that you are upright it is no longer a temptation. You are safe from me pushing you over. You may thank me now for withholding my impulses,” she said with all false seriousness.

  “Indeed? And how would you have accomplished such a feat when I must weigh nearly twice what you do?” he asked teasingly.

  “I have learned a few things along the way, and can defend myself quite nicely, or have you forgotten your spill in the chicken coop?”

  “Defend yourself? How was I just now threatening you?” He felt his heart start to race when she raised her eyebrow at him.

  “You were going to come over and take my arm in yours . . .” She paused dramatically.

  He walked the two feet between them. “Like this?” And he reached for her arm. She let go of one side of her skirt.

  “Yes.” She felt her body react like it always did when he was near.

  “I do not see that this is threatening . . .”

  Remember, be direct! “And then you were going to put my arms up by your neck . . .” She felt a great deal of nervousness rise up in her at her boldness.

  He let a small smile creep across his face, but then schooled his features to continue playing the part. He reached for both her arms and put them up by his neck, causing her to drop the other side of her skirt, “Like this? But I am sure this is not threatening either,” he nearly whispered. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

  She swallowed. “Yes, exactly. Just like that.” She stepped closer so that their chests were nearly touching. “And then you were going to . . .” Could she do it? Could she ask him to kiss her?

  “What was I going to do, Elizabeth? I must know.” His voice was soft and gentle. He tried to step closer to her, but his foot slipped off the mossy rock he was standing on. He tried to catch his balance, but his movement made her slip as well. In one fluid movement her feet went out from under her as he reached for her waist. The weight of her fall knocked him completely off balance, and he fell in her direction. They both tumbled into the water with an enormous splash, and although his arms still held her by the waist, he felt her go limp. He quickly got to his knees and lifted Elizabeth out of the water.

  “Elizabeth!” Her eyes were rolled back in her head and her body lay limp in his arms. He realized wit
h growing panic that she must have hit her head. He lifted her up in his arms, trying to cross the stream and reach the safety of the shore. The added weight made the moss even more slippery and he nearly fell twice. He got her to the bank and laid her down gently. She was breathing normally but her eyes were still closed. He inspected her head and didn’t find any cuts, but her hair was still in a bun. He took out her pins as carefully as he could to inspect her head. He found a growing lump at the back of her head near her neck. She had hit her head, and she must have hit it hard. She was completely drenched, as was he, and he shook her shoulders a little.

  “Dearest Elizabeth! Please wake up!” He put his hand on her face, patting her cheeks. She let out a moan and turned her head to the side, but otherwise did not stir. He stared at her eyes, pleading for them to open. When he shook her shoulders once again, he saw a flicker of movement in her eyelashes. He called out her name over and over again, and then said a prayer out loud.

  “Dear God, anyone but her!” It was all he could muster. The sincerity of the prayer was what counted, he told himself, and felt vindicated in his faith when he saw her roll her head from side to side and slowly raise her hand up to her head. He reached for the hand to stop her. “Elizabeth, open your eyes.” His heart broke at the sight of her lying there limply. He could not contemplate the possibility that he might lose her in this moment, although an impish voice pointed out that these sorts of injuries could easily prove fatal. The fact that she was moving slightly was encouraging, but it still didn’t calm his fears.

  Elizabeth opened her eyes, but found that nothing made sense. She could feel and hear William’s panicked voice, but her sight was full of blurred colors and light. She blinked a few times and then let out a faint moan. Her head ached sharply, a piercing pain beginning at the base of her neck. If she concentrated, she could make out two persons in front of her, but they seemed to dance from side to side. She could hear William, but who was the other? Elizabeth shut her eyes after a moment. She did not want to see any more of the scene before her. Afterwards, though, she felt overcome by a sudden wave of nausea. She sat up immediately, bracing one hand against the ground, and then she retched, vomiting. Afterwards, she opened her eyes to a world that seemed much, although not entirely, clearer than before.