Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
E lizabeth drew her arms closer to her body, her hands clenched into fists as she braced against the cold. The longer she walked towards Longbourn, the wind, which had been initially invigorating, became increasingly harsh. A sudden gust whipped past her, through the narrow lane, blowing powdery snow with it. As it stung her cheeks, she kept her eyes on the path ahead and her tumultuous thoughts consumed her. How could this have happened? How could I have fallen in love, despite all my best efforts to not do so?
As shivers raced through her, she realised that in her frantic haste to escape Netherfield, she had not dressed appropriately for such frigid weather. She drew the shawl more tightly around her shoulders as she continued walking, certain she could make the few miles home if she kept a brisk pace. The snow crunched underfoot and a part of her recognised her foolishness. Three miles in only half-boots and a shawl was sheer folly. Another big gust of wind struck against her, confirming she was nonsensical, but she ignored it. Her thoughts were too full of him.
What a fool I have been, to fall in love again so easily… She had been trying to deny her feelings for him this whole time, trying to protect her heart. She only now realised she was too late. Her heart was no longer hers to give to Royce or any other man. It belonged to Mr Darcy, still and likely always. In suggesting they become friends, she had destroyed any emotional distance between them—her only defence in not falling in love with him again. As the wind whipped up the snow from the ground into swirling clouds, a surge of frustration coursed through her. How am I here again, in love with a man who cannot offer me marriage?
A moment later, she heard a deep voice cutting through the wind. “Elizabeth!”
Her stomach sank. She did not turn around, instead keeping her eyes straight towards Longbourn. No, I cannot see him. Not now.
Mr Darcy called her name again, and she felt she could no longer disregard it. Reluctantly, she turned around to face him. He was closer than she expected, only a few feet away. The sight of him rendered her frozen for a moment. As he approached, fully clothed in a greatcoat, hat, scarf, and gloves, it only highlighted her own chill and reminded her of how inadequately she was dressed.
“How quickly you walk!” he panted as he finally caught up with her, his cheeks reddened by the cold. “I came immediately after you left, and you were out of sight by the time I exited the house.” Unable to meet his eye, she looked to the ground as he added, “I had to guess which direction you walked. ”
She did not say anything in response, worried that her voice would betray all of the emotions she felt.
After a few moments pause, she looked up to meet his gaze. In his dark eyes, she saw a mixture of relief and concern. Still unable to respond to him, she felt tears begin to sting her eyes as a lump formed in her throat.
He continued to study her face as he said, “I am so thankful I found you. The longer I have been out here the more it looks as if it might… Come, let us go back.”
He reached out to take her arm and guide her back in the direction of Netherfield, but the warmth of his touch felt as needles, heightening every conflicting emotion she was enduring. She abruptly pulled away as she turned back in the direction of Longbourn, her voice trembling with desperation. “I cannot… I must go home.”
Mr Darcy quickened his pace to match hers, falling into step beside her. “Did I do something to upset you?”
“No, you have done nothing wrong,” she replied, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes.
“What troubles you so?” The concern in his voice grew more urgent. She folded her arms around herself and clenched her jaw as she continued to walk, but offered no reply. At her silence, he implored, “I insist you come back.”
“No, I cannot,” she said with a thick voice.
Out of her periphery, she could see that he continued to look at her. He pressed, “You cannot go all the way back to Longbourn dressed in such a way, and the weather appears to be worsening. Please, it is not safe.”
Elizabeth’s gaze fell to her damp boots; in spite of her woollen stockings, her feet were growing colder with each step. A chill crept up her spine as she looked up to see the clouds churning in an ominous way. With a shiver of resignation, she nodded. “How foolish I have been. Yes, let us return.”
He quickly removed his coat and placed it around her before wrapping his scarf around her neck. Warmth, his warmth, immediately soothed and relieved her even as she tried to refuse it. “I cannot take these, what will you?—”
“I insist,” he shouted above the blowing winds. Once it had passed, he added in a more regulated tone, “Come, let us get to Netherfield before the weather worsens.”
As they turned back towards the house, the wind intensified to such a level that visibility was diminished. Snow was chaotically whirling in every direction, obscuring the landscape around them. A fierce gust nearly knocked her over as concern surged through her.
She looked towards Mr Darcy. “I am so sorry,” she cried, steeling herself to continue, “I never should have…”
He met her gaze with a look of unwavering resolve. “Keep walking,” was all he had time to say before another blast of wind cut off his words.
Elizabeth pushed against the wind, trying to follow his instructions. What have I done? Panic made her breath come in short gasps. Not only to myself, but to Mr Darcy too. It seemed doubtful that they could make it all the way back to Netherfield; even finding it seemed unlikely now, as the lane had been completely obscured by blowing snow and they could not be sure which direction to take.
The recklessness of her decision to leave in inclement weather overtook her. Why had she let her emotions consume her so fully that she had not noticed that a storm was bearing down? Her insides sank as she grasped the grave danger they were in, realising that it was her own foolishness that now jeopardised both herself and the man she loved. What were they going to do?
She looked at Mr Darcy, his hat blown off and his hair in disarray as it matted against his head, and a strange calm overcame her. Despite my foolishness, he is with me.
He stopped suddenly, his head turning from side to side as if trying to assess their surroundings. He gazed at her with a look of determination, firmly grabbed her arm and shouted against the wind, “Come…this way!” He pointed at a copse of trees visible only momentarily between bursts of the storm.
“But Nether?—”
“Trust me!” The wind was too loud to argue further, so she did.