An Unexpected Ally

Part 17

Whilst Elizabeth often preferred the company of her sisters, even she could not object to a solitary walk in the countryside surrounding Longbourn. She could dictate her own pace, let her thoughts travel wherever they wanted and had to humour nobody but herself. Her mood soared as she scrambled over a stile and into a neighbouring field, landing firmly in a muddy puddle and thinking, with regret, of the state of her hem.

It is hardly the first time I have returned home in a dress thick with mud! she thought, with a rueful smile. She recalled the time Jane was taken ill at Netherfield, when she had marched the whole three miles there, barely noticing the state of the weather, and arrived dishevelled, drenched and mud-soaked. What an arrival that was, and what an impression it made on Netherfield's inhabitants! She glanced up at the horizon, surprised to spot a figure approaching her and even more surprised to recognise it as belonging to just such a one of those Netherfield inhabitants that had just crossed her mind.

Mr Darcy had not noticed her yet. His gaze was fixed on the ground before him, his features drawn down into a scowl that made Elizabeth's own smile fade. How quickly she had grown used to Mr Darcy without a scowl that seeing him with one again rather jolted her. She recalled his attempt at friendliness in Meryton the previous day and regretted that she had not been more amenable to it. Of course he was not as friendly as he might have been, but compared to how he had appeared upon their very first meeting he was kindness itself and she had snubbed, rather than encouraged, him. Taking a deep breath, she decided that his appearance now was an opportunity given to her by Providence to make up the difference, and she determined she would be the first to make an effort.

"Mr Darcy!" She waved to him, forcing her lips into a smile as the two walkers drew closer to one another. "Good morning!"

"Elizabeth, I -" He came a sudden halt, surprised to see her and still half-lost in his thoughts. It took a moment before he could return her smile with anything approaching the same but at last he managed it, doffing his hat for good measure. "Good morning." He glanced around them as if surprised that his route march had led him so far afield.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, neither one sure how to proceed. At last it was Darcy who spoke first.

"I see you made it safely home from Meryton. I trust you and Miss Mary accomplished all of your tasks yesterday."

This nebulous statement was so surprising that Elizabeth laughed, which seemed to break the tension between them. Even Mr Darcy smiled, she saw, and was thus encouraged to answer in a more friendly manner than she might have done had they met an hour or two sooner.

"Yes, thank you. And it occurs to me that I was a little short when we met. Forgive me."

Darcy shrugged his shoulders as if to indicate he had not noticed any slight, nor held it against her. Silence fell once again and this time Elizabeth was the one to break it.

"Are you walking for pleasure or with a destination in mind?"

"Neither." Darcy's grimace softened. "And you?"

"Neither." Elizabeth risked a smile. "Perhaps, in that case, we might walk a little way together? Unless you prefer to be left alone." Her eyes fluttered closed. What had possessed her to make such a suggestion? Had she not, mere moments earlier, been rejoicing in blessed solitude? Why now seek companionship - and that of Mr Darcy, of all people! She opened her mouth to rescind the suggestion, poised to turn and hurry off in another direction, but he spoke before she was able to do either.

"I think that would be a fine suggestion, Miss Elizabeth." He dipped his head. "I shall allow you to determine our route, for if I recall correctly you are far better acquainted with these lands than I am."

Elizabeth continued the path she had been taking, which would lead eventually back towards Netherfield. It had not been her goal, but now she wondered if perhaps some part deep inside her had not intended this all along. They walked in silence for a few moments, making occasional comments about the weather, the abundance of greenery, the flourish of spring after a long, unendurable winter.

"Did you see your cousin?" Elizabeth asked, when there was a break in their conversation. "Mary and I happened across Colonel Fitzwilliam on our way home yesterday and he said that you had not made it to the barracks. I hope you did manage to see him, after all."

"Yes."

Darcy's voice was terse, so quiet that Elizabeth immediately glanced his way. His scowl was firmly in place again, looking fiercer and more ferocious than ever.

"I trust he is well," she ventured, curious at the sudden change that had come over her companion.

"He is," Darcy said, sharply. After a moment in which he seemed to be at war with himself, he stopped walking altogether and turned towards her. "In truth, Elizabeth, it is on account of my cousin that I have been out walking this morning. I have been trying to make sense of a situation I cannot begin to understand and - and to work out a little of my frustrations by walking."

"Ah. And how do you fare, in either case?"

"Not well!" Darcy admitted, with a self-deprecating laugh. They began to walk once more and Elizabeth weighed her words carefully before speaking again.

"You know, I have it on good authority - not my own, for I am a great one for stewing on my problems and building them up into great catastrophes in the privacy of my own mind - but others tell me that it can, on occasion, help to talk about one's concerns."

Darcy did not reply straight away but a glance in his general direction confirmed that he had heard her. She held her peace, trusting that the presence of a silent audience might do what no degree of inquiry would. After a moment or two she was proved right, as Darcy took a long breath in and began.

"I did meet with my cousin yesterday, although not at the time I planned. We met for dinner and I - I went there angry with something I believed I knew." He removed his hat, raking a hand through his dark hair before replacing it firmly atop his head. "You know my feelings about George Wickham -" He held a hand up, looking at her with such anguish in his dark eyes that Lizzy was stunned into silence and could not have given any response, even if she had wanted to. "I know you are inclined towards him but please, Lizzy, trust that my animosity towards George Wickham is not without cause. Richard, too, bore the same grudge." His voice dropped to a grim whisper. "At least, I thought he did. It seems I was mistaken, for the two are friends, or act as if they were. I rather railed at Richard for fostering such an association, for appearing to forgive Wickham for - for what he did." He had stopped himself mid-sentence, turning away from any actual allusion to what had occurred and Lizzy's curiosity burned within her. She had dismissed Darcy's warnings about George Wickham as simply a display of his pride, yet another example of him considering himself better than his neighbours. Now she wondered if she had been mistaken. Perhaps there was more to it than she had ever imagined. This was not the time to talk about George Wickham, though and so, reluctantly, she swallowed her questions and tried a different tack.

"I do not believe Colonel Fitzwilliam to be distrustful," she ventured. "He has been nothing but kind to my family. And of course, Jane cares so deeply for him."

"She does?" Darcy looked stricken, his face paling. "She cares for him more than she did for Bingley, do you suppose?"

Lizzy was torn. On the one hand, she wished to keep her sister's counsel. What business was it of Fitzwilliam Darcy where her heart lay? Yet he looked so unsettled that it was all she could do not to leap to offer a response. In the end, she found a middle ground, nodding fervently but offering no further commentary.

"Then Richard is fortunate, indeed," Darcy said, his frown sinking still more heavily onto his features. He seemed to notice suddenly that their walk took them closer to Netherfield, and he turned them around, pledging to do the chivalrous duty of escorting Elizabeth safely home, as he ought, and making a great effort to turn their conversation back to simpler, happier things.