The Guest | F. Darcy

Chapter 5: Secrets and Truths

Adele took to walking in the park, though her preference for solitude set her apart from Elizabeth. While they dearly loved one another, their habits differed—Elizabeth, ever lively, relished brisk movement, whereas Adele found comfort in the hush of gentle breezes and the delicate bed of daisies along her path.

She was thus absorbed in her thoughts when a familiar voice broke through her reverie.

"Miss Bennet."

Startled, she looked up to see Mr. Darcy approaching. A rare, almost hesitant smile played at his lips, and she found herself mirroring the expression.

"Mr. Darcy," she replied, as they naturally fell into step beside each other. "I did not know you walked this way."

"Oh yes," he said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Yesterday, I encountered your sister on her walk. She mentioned that you often take this path, and so I thought I might alter my course today—in the hope of meeting you."

Adele felt warmth rise to her cheeks at his candid admission. Yet, almost instinctively, she pressed her lips together, quelling the foolish hope that threatened to stir within her. Fitzwilliam thought of her as a friend, nothing more. She rubbed her arm absently, as if in quiet reassurance, and for a time, they walked in silence, content in each other's presence.

At last, she turned to him.

"Tell me, Mr. Darcy, have you had word from your sister? How is she?"

At the mention of Georgiana, his countenance brightened visibly.

"She is well," he said warmly. "She has recently taken an interest in riding. She grows quite fearless, much to my concern."

Adele chuckled, her amusement genuine.

"She mentioned as much in her letter this morning," she said. "I have yet to read it in full, but I shall do so after my walk. I daresay she must miss you dearly."

Darcy's expression softened, though a trace of sadness shadowed his features.

"I believe she does," he admitted. "And I miss her. But my obligations keep me away."

"She is a clever girl," Adele said gently. "She understands your duties and knows how dearly you love her."

He inclined his head, as if grateful for the sentiment. Then, after a pause, he asked, "And your sisters? How do they fare?"

Adele hesitated for the briefest moment before replying, "Much as I left them."

She spoke lightly, but something in her manner made Darcy's gaze sharpen. Perhaps he understood more than she intended to reveal, for his smile dimmed slightly, yet he did not press the matter.

The rest of their walk was spent in companionable conversation—frivolous remembrances, half-forgotten moments from childhood—though much of their time was given to comfortable silence.

And so it became a habit. They met often, sometimes at the very beginning of her walk, other times when she turned to make her way back to the Parsonage. He never imposed but was simply there, as though fate—or perhaps something far simpler—drew them together.

One afternoon, as they strolled beneath the shade of an old grove, Darcy turned to her.

"Are you finding Hunsford pleasant?"

Adele glanced at him with a teasing smile.

"Yes," she answered, "Thank goodness things do not always reflect their owners."

He laughed at that—truly laughed, deep and rich, a sound she had not heard in many years.

"You used to say that often," he mused, amusement lingering in his tone. "Back when my parents were still living, and you were just Addy—Lady Marshall's ward."