Rainy Days & The Rainbow Promise (Pride and Prejudice Collection)

Chapter 1.1

After three full days of rain, the sky began to clear, and the sun finally seemed tempted to show its face. It was early morning, and everyone in the house was still in their rooms—except her.

Elizabeth Bennet was having another sleepless night, no doubt caused by the long period of time she had to stay indoors and the fear of hearing Mr Collins address her with an unwelcome proposal.

Almost from the beginning, her cousin seemed determined to favour her. Of course, her dear sister Jane was his first choice, but thankfully, Mrs Bennet told him about Mr Bingley’s attentions towards Jane, and Mr Collins turned—quite naturally in his opinion—to the second in age and beauty.

As the weather was so inviting, Elizabeth decided not to let another moment pass without taking advantage of the beautiful November day, so she donned her outerwear and went outside.

By breakfast time, I shall return and, hopefully—being tired—spend the morning in my room, reading or talking with Jane about the upcoming ball.

The dance was another delicate matter; its beginning would be a disaster as Mr Collins had asked for her first set.

However, she was happy with anticipation, thinking of the pleasurable evening she would spend in the charming company of Mr Wickham.

With the militia in town, there should be enough gentlemen in attendance to guarantee her a partner for every dance.

She shuddered as she recalled an assembly wherein she had been left without a partner; this had prompted derogatory comments from a certain gentleman regarding her being slighted by other men.

Of course, Elizabeth liked him too little to value his opinion.

She remained with no cordial feelings towards Mr Darcy since that night, and furthering their acquaintance during the days spent nursing her sister at Netherfield, she had easily read his character: a clever man, well read and well bred, who cared for his sister and his friend.

Perhaps too caring. I hope he will not discourage Mr Bingley in his attentions towards Jane; no doubt, Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst would welcome such a gesture, Elizabeth thought bitterly.

Nevertheless, the time spent at Netherfield also confirmed for her that he was a proud and disagreeable man—haughty, reserved and fastidious—who considered all of them beneath him and treated them accordingly.

Furthermore, Mr Wickham’s sad recounting of mistreatment by the gentleman confirmed her earlier suspicions about his lack of integrity.

Her friend Charlotte Lucas believed Mr Darcy had every reason to be proud, but Elizabeth disagreed; surely, there could be no basis for such behaviour.

And even if it were justified, his pride did not entitle him to disregard his father’s will and reduce to comparative poverty a good, sensible man like Mr Wickham.

Strangely, a brief meeting she had witnessed in Meryton between Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham still puzzled her exceedingly.

Though he was blameless, Mr Wickham appeared embarrassed and uncomfortable—and a little alarmed—while Mr Darcy seemed surprised, hurt, and definitely angry.

The former turned white, while the latter became alarmingly red-faced.

Of course, she knew too little of either gentleman to be certain her observations were well founded or to understand their reactions. Papa would have read them in an instant just looking at their faces…

However, Mr Bennet showed little interest in the two gentlemen or, for that matter, in any other people or events around him. His constant preoccupation was his books, which always kept him company in the solitude of his library; the only person admitted whenever she wished was Elizabeth.

Improving my mind by extensive reading…Mr Darcy’s definition of an accomplished woman. Poor Miss Bingley. She went to so much trouble to prove she was a great reader.

With these thoughts on her mind, Elizabeth walked quickly.

She enjoyed the feeling of the wind on her face and the smell of fresh air after the rain.

She preferred an alternate path she knew well and walked for a time through the wooded area till she reached a small hill near a stream—deeper than it had been in some time—and began to climb.

Suddenly, she saw the little cottage—a place dear to her heart.

It had been built at Mr Bennet’s request after he and his brother Gardiner spent a day fishing—with little Lizzy accompanying them—and all were caught in the downpour from a terrible storm.

By the time they reached Longbourn, they were soaked; all three suffered terrible colds and remained in bed for almost a fortnight.

Mrs Bennet demanded they swear never to repeat their irresponsible actions and forbade all from fishing ever again.

After talking to Mr Gardiner and deciding that Mrs Bennet had a certain point to her argument, Mr Bennet made certain the dangerous event would never occur again; they built a small lodge for shelter in time of need.

The cottage had three rooms. The main room had a fireplace with a comfortable armchair nearby, and close to the window—convenient for reading—were a table and chairs.

The second room, smaller, contained an iron bed in which Mr Bennet could rest from time to time while his companion, Mr Gardiner, oversaw the fishing tools.

The third room was a small kitchen, and a closet held the most urgent necessities.

The cottage always contained blankets, towels, and the material for starting a fire.

The last time Elizabeth was in the cottage was about five years earlier—before the Gardiners’ fourth child was born; however, she knew a servant checked the cottage from time to time.

She had no intention of going inside. She planned just to look at it and pass on by. How strange… I find myself missing my childhood.

She walked a little further but suddenly felt a powerful chill. Recovering from her thoughts, she looked around and saw the sky filled with heavy clouds. Her surroundings became black and cold, and she was in the midst of frigid darkness.

Elizabeth was wearing naught but a muslin gown, spencer, cloak, bonnet and gloves, but none was made from substantial fabric. Certainly, nothing she wore would protect her should the weather become treacherous.

I had better hurry home before the rain begins, she mused silently.

However, it was too late; in a few moments, heavy rain began to fall steadily until all she could see was a curtain of water in front of her. I must get back to the cottage; it is my only chance. I shall freeze to death trying to get home in this driving rain.

The more Elizabeth attempted to quicken her pace, the more slowly she seemed to move. The field was mostly slippery mud; her clothes were soaked and felt colder and heavier. She was stumbling blindly.

I do not want to sprain my ankle just before the ball…or perhaps it is not such a bad idea, considering the fact that I must dance the first two with Mr Collins…but then I shall not be able to dance at all, not even with Mr Wickham! That would be a tragic event, indeed…

She tried to laugh at her situation, but she became frightened and extremely worried about what her family would think when they discovered her missing. Surely, they would fear the worst.

She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed up and down as feverishly as she could, trying to keep to the correct path leading to the cottage. Suddenly, she stopped at the sound of a horse’s galloping hooves and the deep, strong voice of its rider.

He must be mad to ride so on a nearly invisible road. It will lead him and his horse unerringly into the stream. I must warn him.

She ran to her right and, lifting both her hands, began to yell.

She startled; the rider was closer than she thought, and she found herself directly in the path of his mount.

The man saw her too and pulled the reins with all his might, causing the horse to rear; its legs slipped, and it fell.

The rider was about to be caught underneath, but at the last second, he threw himself clear and landed in the mud—well away from his horse.

The animal righted itself and ran into the dense woods.

Elizabeth was too terrified to move or breathe; her whole body trembled.

She watched the man on the ground and tried to speak to him to see whether he was hurt.

She attempted to approach him, but her feet would not move, which was for the best, because in the next second, she heard a well-known, unpleasant voice growling at her.

“Are you out of your mind to yell like that? What on earth were you thinking to scare my horse and make him throw me to the ground?”

It was obvious he had not recognised her, but Elizabeth was quite cold, scared—and now angry.

“I am terribly sorry, sir, for upsetting you so. I was trying to stop you from running directly into the stream. If I had known it was you, Mr Darcy, I should have thought twice before acting so impulsively.”

In a second, Darcy was on his feet. He was wet, his hat was lost somewhere, and his fine coat and gloves were covered in mud.

“Miss Bennet! May I ask what you are doing here?”

She glared at him, her ‘fine eyes’ casting daggers.

“Besides scaring you and your horse, sir? Well, I can no longer deny it. That was the precise purpose of my morning walk.”

“I am sorry for offending you. I only meant that I was surprised by your sudden appearance, and I was equally surprised at my horse’s reaction to the situation. I have never been thrown from a horse in my life.”

Really? What a stunning event: Mr Darcy in the mud at my feet. An extraordinary experience.

“Oh, it is quite all right, Mr Darcy. I am becoming used to it. Offending me appears to be a regular pattern of our meetings whether they take place in a ballroom or in the woods.”

He froze, furrowing his brow. “Miss Bennet—” he began, but she cut him off fiercely.