Chapter 85
"Let us go for a walk." Elizabeth said abruptly, with a glance out of the window. "The rain has stopped."
"For now, perhaps." Darcy replied dubiously, “I have known you to run outside at the smallest gap in the clouds, only to return soaked to the skin an hour later."
"But it is always an hour well spent." she replied peacefully. “Put your coat on, my love, and walk with me. We are leaving tomorrow, and this may be the last chance we get."
"How invitingly final. We are coming back here in a few months to celebrate Easter with the most amiable couple in England. The walks will be much more inviting then."
"Because of the weather, or because you dislike their company?"
"The weather is all I shall admit to, madam, while we are under the same roof as your sister and her deliriously happy husband. They smile so constantly that it makes my jaw ache!"
"Perhaps by Easter they will be more tolerable - or you shall be." Elizabeth teased him but there was a wicked glint in her eye. "Now you have given me ammunition, sir. Walk with me, or I shall tell them what you have said."
"How? They barely leave their room. I would be more patient if we could do the same, but as guests we must be sociable." Darcy spat the last word as if it offended him.
"Ah, now I understand your ill temper! You miss Mr. Bingley's company."
"I miss my own house, and I miss being able to lock the bedroom door. I have many pleasant memories of that, and plan to make a good many more. I like to be the master of my own domain, not beholden to other people’s demands.
" he said very bluntly, looking directly into Lizzie's eyes. "A walk will not distract me."
"But you need a distraction." she pointed out quietly, not falling into the trap of thinking too deeply about the heat in his voice.
Unfortunately, her topic was far more serious.
"I have seen your hands shaking, my love, and how hard you have had to fight. All of the dinners and luncheons and visits to the local families - all of the ways they tried to test your resolve - oh yes, I have seen it.”
The memory made hot anger boil in her blood, even now. She had convinced Darcy to try to befriend the locals, thinking that the goodly people whom she had grown up around would be just as welcoming to her husband. She had been disgusted to see their true natures.
Every house seemed to have a person with a wicked look in their eyes, who was sure that they would be the one to unmask Darcy’s ‘lies’.
They offered him wine or spirits as soon as he sat down, as if they were perfectly accustomed to drinking at ten in the morning.
Full glasses were conspicuously left before him, and the conversation always seemed to return to discussions of revelries and delicious meals.
For the most part, the other people in the room were polite, but not sincere. Elizabeth saw none of the honest friendliness that she knew they were capable of, only contempt.
Some of them had not even sent invitations. The ones that had were planning their ambushes.
The morning they spent in Lucas Lodge was the only time that Elizabeth was able to relax.
There, she laughed with Charlotte and introduced her husband to the people who were almost as dear to her as her own sisters.
She thought that they all had a wonderful time, until they were about to leave.
As Elizabeth wrapped her stole around her shoulders she looked up and saw pity in Charlotte’s eyes.
Pity! How deeply it wounded her!
How much worse was Darcy feeling?
He was stoic in the face of all of it, and quiet afterwards, but never protested.
He was impeccably polite, showing these strangers that he was nothing like they imagined.
Perhaps some of them were convinced, for the ones who invited them back were much warmer on their second visit.
But it was a difficult, uphill struggle.
Now Elizabeth realised why Darcy had been so unwilling to come to Meryton.
It was a battle he would be fighting for the rest of his life.
“You triumphed over the gossips and over the man they expected to see.” Lizzie said quietly, “I know how angry they made you. That is why I want to go for a walk."
Darcy surrendered, standing up with a weary groan. "Fresh air and exercise?"
"Naturally! I may even manage to distract you."
It started raining again barely ten minutes after they left Netherfield Park. When the drizzle turned into a downpour, Darcy turned up his collar but made no comment.
“I can feel you gloating." Lizzie said, laughing. "It is not my fault. Had we not argued for so long, we might have been back in front of a warm fire by now."
"We can turn around."
"We shall not! It is only a little further."
Darcy hid a smile and followed without protest. The path they took was narrow and overgrown with winter brambles and dead scrub-wood. Lizzie pushed it out the way with the easy motions of an experienced walker.
"You know this path well." Darcy observed.
Elizabeth smiled. "It used to be one of my favourites. Those are apple trees - see them? When spring comes, they are filled with blossoms. The wind catches them and lays them or the ground like a white carpet. It is like walking on clouds."
“I suppose an angel would know that sensation well." he teased.
Lizzie smiled and then spoke very, very carefully. "It is a shame that we will not be able to see it."
Darcy stilled. "What do you mean?"
Lizzie laughed nervously, "Well, that I will not be able to make the journey - and if I do, I shall certainly be in no condition to walk about the countryside."
He tried to catch her hand, but she whisked it away. Her smile was beautiful and fragile, like a single pane of glass. The rain had plastered her hair to her cheeks, making her look elfin and delicate.
"I do not think you should be out in the rain." Darcy told her.
"We are nearly there." Lizzie promised and began walking once more.
Darcy got his bearings slowly when they left the enclosed trail. Without the heavy drips from the trees the rain felt lighter, like a fine spray over the open fields. His head was spinning; he only noticed the style when Elizabeth stopped walking. She perched upon the stone wall, feet dangling.
"I do not think you should be climbing, either." Darcy said.
Lizzie raised a challenging eyebrow. “But surely I should be sitting down?"
He settled for resting his hand upon her knee, ready to catch her in the unlikely event that she toppled. "How long have you known?"
She regarded him carefully, "Since before we arrived."
"You kept it secret from me?"
Lizzie frowned, "Not secret, exactly. I wanted to be sure.
I… this morning I felt it quicken. I suspect the baby knew you needed a distraction.
It is a good one, is it not?" She laughed suddenly, brightly, her cheeks burning pink.
"Oh, it feels so strange to talk about it!
And you have gone so pale! I was sure that you already knew. "
"I wondered. I hoped." he murmured, "But I did not know."
"Are you... pleased?”
Darcy looked amazed. "How can you doubt it?"
"Well! You have not smiled, or said anything beyond a few silly orders, and you have not kissed me. Holding onto my knee, sir, is not a fitting substitute."
He raised an eyebrow at her stern tone. He could tell that she was flustered, and that her brash speeches were all bravado. “Climb down, Elizabeth, and I shall kiss you."
"Another order!" she slid down at once with a bump which made her husband wince. "Do not pull faces at me. I shall not be swaddled in lambs’ wool, Mr. Darcy. Pemberley has had quite enough of that. We shall fill it with life and laughter and very stubborn children."
"Is that my order, madam?"
"I foresaw no objections, sir. You certainly seem up to the task."
Darcy laughed aloud at that, his stunned solemnity broken, and kissed his wife soundly. "Oh, angel, you are a miracle."
"No. I am neither." she smiled, planting one teasing peck on the end of his nose. "I am your Elizabeth."
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