Chapter 3 If Mr. Darcy Dared

When the trail to Oakham Mount narrowed, Mr. Darcy dismounted and dropped his horse’s reins to the ground. If he had borrowed one of the estate’s horses he would not have trusted his ride to remain at the trailhead, but his beast stood proudly still, a demonstration of the horse’s proper training.

The trail switched back and forth enough to provide a welcome challenge to any hiker, but still, Darcy could not shake his anxieties about the ball. He had scolded Bingley for his nervous behavior, yet crowded ballrooms had never been Fitzwilliam Darcy’s preferred method of spending an evening either. A lady’s visage, full of laughter and gaiety, clouded his thoughts and remembering the night’s crowded ballroom would include Miss Elizabeth Bennet vexed him even more.

Scowling, he began his habit to prepare for such ordeals by practicing imaginary conversations and compliments in his mind. As he turned one last time and anxiously reached a clearing, a lady’s form standing atop a large rock arrested his breath. His boot loudly snapped a branch as he halted, the crack startled the young woman who jumped from her perch.

“Miss Elizabeth!” Fitzwilliam dashed around the boulder, fearing the worst! As he saw nothing below in his frantic search, he edged around the boulder from the east side, while Elizabeth Bennet tiptoed around the jagged rocks on the west side.

“Miss. Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy unsteadily asked as he peered around the boulder and found no sign of her, wondering if he was going mad?

“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth Bennet echoed as her nimble steps brought her around the south side of the massive crag, and she stood patiently behind the tall man from Derbyshire.

Sensing a presence behind him, Fitzwilliam turned around but could not help his involuntarily startle at the now laughing and beaming Elizabeth Bennet standing so very near to his person that he gasped for breath. Elizabeth leaned her head back and laughed at her tease, scaring the proud and stern Mr. Darcy as he restored his countenance and expressed his displeasure at her sneaking up upon him.

“I feared you had fallen,” he choked out.

“Oh, I believe a good scare deserves another. You frightened me first, I might point out, how long were you spying on me?” The second daughter the Bennet family refused to cower and simper before the man who reportedly owned nearly half a county.

“My apologies. I would have never expected you a philosopher of Hammurabi,” Mister Darcy said.

Elizabeth began walking backward on the small rocks supporting the great rock atop Oakham Mount, watching Mister Darcy’s face drain of all color. But to her feet, the worn stones were familiar steps since her childhood.

“Miss Elizabeth! You shall fall!” Mister Darcy explained and reached out to catch her flailing arms just as she lost her balance in a most prophetic way. Instinctively, he pulled her to his chest, her form tucking perfectly under his chin, his heart beating as wildly as hers. For a moment, Elizabeth merely remained, catching her breath, but found herself unable to control her feelings. No longer in any physical danger, her head still felt most light-headed, and she pulled away as she used her right hand to steady herself against the rock that towered three feet above her head.

To her surprise, as she began to lessen her grip, he held fast with his. Until she looked up and locked eyes with a very doleful Fitzwilliam Darcy, he gently let go.

“I would not have fallen, sir, as I have excellent balance and am often here alone.” She raised an eyebrow to see if he would argue with her, and when he did not, she recalled his earlier accusation. “I am not a great admirer of an eye for an eye, but do believe one must take into consideration the severity of a transgression before relying on one’s philosophical leanings for guidance. “

“Do you mean to say that your philosophy changes with circumstance?” Mr. Darcy clasped his hands behind his back, wishing he could push the memory of Miss Elizabeth crushed to his person away, but the distraction lingered as did the scent of lavender from her hair.

“Nay, though I cannot claim to be so steadfast that a new treatise has not moved me to consider another course. And what of you, Mr. Darcy? Are your philosophies immovable despite circumstance? You did say your good opinion once lost was lost forever,” Elizabeth Bennet’s voice trailed off as she made the mistake of looking him once more in the eye and finding a soulful longing staring back at her. Quickly, she turned away and shielded her eyes to look out across the horizon. The sun’s position had sunk lower in the sky then she would have liked, more than enough signal that she ought to return home to prepare for the ball. Lingering any longer, would excite her mother, and lead to consequences of a negative nature for far longer than Elizabeth wished to endure. Mr. Darcy followed her gaze and appeared to have read her mind.

“Should you permit me, I would be happy to escort you back to Longbourn.” Fitzwilliam stood stiffly and bowed as Elizabeth considered his proposition.

“I’m afraid I must decline. I do not accept escorts from gentlemen who avoid answering a lady’s questions.” Elizabeth curtsied and began to walk down the trail that had long been a favorite. Mr. Darcy held no choice but to follow Elizabeth in her stubborn way of walking with no concern for him.

Swiftly, he used his longer gait to maneuver around her to stand and block her progress. “I am not so unmoved as you have accused me,” he declared, hastily, receiving no further response than a half-glimmer of amusement of her face. Fumbling, he continued. “Perhaps in situations of my past . . . I have found reasons to harden myself against changing my opinion,” he quickly thought of Wickham laughing down in the village inn and shook his head. “But I do agree there are situations where one’s initial position becomes untenable for the specific circumstances around him.” Confused he was out of breath, Darcy inhaled through his nose and attempted a smile at the bewitching woman before him.

“Oh very well,” Elizabeth said, finding Mr. Darcy improved in looks when the man did not scowl, a detail she would have to share with Jane. “Since you appear to be a gentleman who can be counted upon to acquiesce to a lady’s desire, I find myself happier with company to walk home than without.” Elizabeth held out her arm to accept Mr. Darcy’s escort, a reversal of his experiences with other ladies of the Ton that enthralled him, though not so much that he did not place his arm perpendicular to the crook of her elbow. When she tightened her grasp around his forearm, Darcy suddenly felt as though his cravat constrained his throat, but he resisted adjusting the cloth.

Walking side-by-side to Mr. Darcy forced Elizabeth to study the trail away from his direction. A bubbling of excitement rippled through her senses, as she suddenly realized she was alone with Mr. Darcy. Quite alone, not alone as they had sat in the library at Netherfield Park on her last day when any maid or another person might enter. Smirking, Elizabeth thought about how her sister Jane had urged her to give Mr. Bingley’s friend more benefit than doubt. Elizabeth suddenly felt eager to share her triumph of making pleasant conversation with Mr. Darcy! But one niggling bit of mischievous claimed Elizabeth’s thoughts and as Mr. Darcy just admitted that his first impressions might be wrong, she felt a need to probe his philosophies further. There was little more than two switchbacks left down the hill, and she might never have another opportunity to ask the man of his first slight against her.

“Would you say a man could find his opinion altered from a first impression he might have at an assembly?”

The pair had been ambling as Elizabeth matched Mr. Darcy’s slower speed than her normal hiking gait, but her pointed question halted the man in his tracks. Elizabeth nearly stumbled as their arms were linked, and she broke the connection to end a few steps ahead. She looked back at the interloper who had interrupted her afternoon of solitude and tilted her head to one side as an indication that she expected him to answer.

Fitzwilliam Darcy gulped. He pressed his mouth into a thin line as he began to feel the burn of embarrassment rush to his cheeks. “I am not so much of a fool to think your question does not apply to a recent assembly in which we both took part. And while I can only say that I am not always proud of my behavior when I am in a room of unfamiliar people, I would equally ask if a lady denies a man’s invitation to dance out of spite is that not equally hurtful?”

Elizabeth’s mouth opened in shock. She quickly covered it with her gloved hand before once more locking eyes with Mr. Darcy. Jane’s warnings rang in her memory. Her sister had warned Elizabeth to consider that her barbs and teases pained Mr. Darcy in the same way his offhand dismissal of her beauty had pained her. Her vanity had been so bruised that she never considered the fragility of her adversary.

But that was the extent of Elizabeth’s reflections of her behavior. She quickly pointed out he had been the first to transgress without apology.

“Might greater weight be given to that which was said directly as opposed to a comment overheard that was never intended to be directly delivered?” he countered.

“Are we not to be judged by what’s in one’s heart? Mark, you claimed I was barely tolerable, sir, and then not a week later asked me to dance. How was I to know that your request was not a mere sport for you in a game of charitable charm with your friend?” Elizabeth began to feel angry with Mr. Darcy. He blamed his offense on her eavesdropping instead of his poor character! As Elizabeth stormed off, Darcy again caught up with her to block her path, a move she did find so amusing as the first time.

“So that is your opinion of my friend, Charles? He dances with your sister out of sympathy rather than regard?”

“Nay, I do not criticize Mr. Bingley. In him, I see a genuine regard for my sister.” Elizabeth awkwardly opened and shut her mouth as she nearly said there was no such genuine regard in Mr. Darcy.

But her omission did not slip Mr. Darcy’s notice when the comparison was left incomplete. As the two walked on, unaware that their voices were at a raised volume, Fitzwilliam Darcy began to feel the English countryside to be no different scheming matchmakers of London.

“Oho!” he began. “Your method, madam, to convince me to confess a genuine regard for you is all too transparent.” Darcy’s eyes flashed with anger as Elizabeth matched his pique with her own. She clenched her fists at her side and began to march on at a quicker pace before stopping when she was more than a few feet away from him. She paused, straightened her shoulders and spoke loud enough for him to hear her clearly, but would not face him.

“I entertained this conversation with an innocent interest in giving Mr. Bingley’s friend a second chance to be amiable. But you have proved to me, Mr. Darcy, that you are the arrogant, prideful man I knew you to be upon our first introduction. I do not need declarations of sentiments we both know neither of us holds for one another.”

Looking over her should but down at the ground, she made her final desire known.

“I only wished for an apology.”

Elizabeth continued her quick pace as the strangest sensation pricked her eyes. She was not prone to hysterics, and yet the man she barely knew irritated her senses in a way no other acquaintance had before.

Elizabeth had marched down the trail and around the bend as Fitzwilliam struggled to process all of Miss Elizabeth’s words. She had not been tempting a declaration of regard; the woman merely wanted an apology! As he considered her words one more time, Darcy closed his eyes and sighed. She had been right; he did owe her an apology.

By the time he reached the end of the trail, she had made remarkable distance across the adjacent field. Seized with a panic that this moment could forever ruin his chances with a woman who bewitched him, body and soul, Darcy mounted his horse and clicked his tongue as he spurred the animal’s movement. They were half across the field as he spied Miss Elizabeth break out into a run to get away from him, a spectacle that pained his heart.

As the horse overtook Elizabeth, Darcy pulled back on the reins to turn around, leaping down so close to her; she nearly tripped into his arms as she had up on the hill. Once she regained her position with a step back, she scowled as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her eyes refused to meet his.

“Miss Elizabeth, you have allowed me to see myself from another perspective, and I must confess that I cannot claim to find pride in your accusations. I have been unfair to you, and though I never intended my comment to reach your ears as I was merely attempting to persuade my friend to leave me alone that night. I abused your good nature for my security. And I most humbly apologize.”

Elizabeth continued to stare down at the matted earth beneath her feet. “Mr. Darcy, I —”

“Please allow me to finish. I must confess more.” The words rushed out of Mr. Darcy’s mouth with such swiftness; the odd cadence caught her attention. She risked a glance up at the man to spy an expression she could not recall. Gone was the stern and taciturn Mr. Darcy that seemed perpetually annoyed with the people around him. In his place stood a gentleman with a youthful exuberance in his eyes and a devilish, chestnut curl that had escaped his top hat and swirled charmingly just next to his brow. She felt a strong desire to reach up and touch it but kept her arms unmoving.

“I not only apologize for being so rude to you that evening, but for any other slight you may have felt that proceeded from the first. Not only do I have no cause to insult your character, but that I exalt your character in every letter to my sister in London. Your wit and care for others have made me esteem you above any other lady of my acquaintance. I do hold a genuine regard even if I was so ludicrous as to acknowledge the feelings of my heart and warred against it.”

Elizabeth shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot as she scrunched up her nose up to squint past Mr. Darcy at the gray outline of her father’s house in the distance. Embarrassed once more, Darcy tipped his hat as he looked behind himself to catch her focus.

“Forgive me, madam, I have spoken out of turn. But I thought you must know the truth,” Mr. Darcy barely whispered.

“No, Mr. Darcy, that is yes, that is…” Elizabeth trailed off and appeared truly frightened as Fitzwilliam considered the lady before him. When his face suddenly turned more stern-like with concern, Elizabeth burst out laughing and again quickly covered her mouth to restore her behavior into some semblance of polite manners.

Though she silenced her laughter with her hands, her eyes still danced brilliantly in mirth that Fitzwilliam quickly joined her in laughing which allowed her to remove her hands and continue. The young man and woman released their mutual nervousness until finally, Elizabeth felt she possessed words she could safely say to the gentleman.

“While I appreciate your candor, and I accept your apology, I am afraid that I must go or else my mother might send a search party.” She smiled even though her words did not offer any reciprocation to Mr. Darcy’s confession.

“You said before the sentiment neither one of us share; I am a fool for expressing so much.” Darcy’s mask of indifference began to return, and Elizabeth immediately missed the jovial, youthful Mr. Darcy she had just been privy to see.

“Please do not pay any mind to the words my tongue may say when I am angry. But you cannot reasonably expect a lady to match a gentlemen’s declaration of genuine regard with so tumultuous of an acquaintance as we have shared.”

“So you aim for a different declaration?” Mr. Darcy asked and Elizabeth shook her head violently with agitation. She held up her hand to keep him silent.

“Allow me to save you from your worst assumptions, sir, and merely say I am flattered by your compliments but must return home. We have a ball to attend this evening, or have you forgotten?” Elizabeth offered another quixotic smile as she timidly began to walk around Mr. Darcy and his horse to continue on the path back to Longbourn.

Mr. Darcy dumbly followed Elizabeth a little further until the field ended back to the main road and beyond that, a path leading to the back of her father’s estate. Just as Elizabeth curtsied to Mr. Darcy and began her to cross the lane, Fitzwilliam was struck suddenly with another thought.

“Miss Elizabeth!” He waited for her to cross before nearly shouting. “Would you do me the honor standing up with me for the first set?”

Elizabeth shivered. She slowly turned around on her heel and gave him a weak smile and nod. When Fitzwilliam beamed at her, Elizabeth’s smile broadened as she found the courage to verify his intention.

“I’m sure you are aware of what such a set declares, Mr. Darcy? This is a very small county.”

Fitzwilliam tipped his hat and offered her his widest smile yet.

“I shall not be frightened if you are not.”

Feeling as though they finally understood each other, Mr. Darcy confidently mounted his stallion and cantered off in the opposite direction. Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and continued back on the path to her own home utterly bewildered by the events of her afternoon walk.