One Autumn with Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  “No! You will return covered in dirt and not be fit to be seen. I shall send a servant.”

  “Can you spare them? Are they not all busy below stairs and Susie dressing Jane?”

  “Very well, but do not tarry, and be careful of the mud!”

  Elizabeth gathered up her outdoor clothes and smiled to herself. The near catastrophe in the kitchens served to excuse her from the house as her mother fretted over Mr. Bingley’s arrival. He would bring Mr. Darcy with him, and although Elizabeth had only known him about a fortnight and seen him in company three times since their first meeting, she was beginning to believe he was the most arrogant man who ever lived. He would not smile or laugh, he would barely speak, and when he did, it was condescending. He clearly had no wish to be amongst them, believing himself so superior. Why did he come at all? Poor Mr. Bingley to have such a sour friend.

  Elizabeth giggled to herself. Near the house, they only had one apple tree, and the fruit was sour eaten raw but delicious when cooked. She would like to offer one to Mr. Darcy; perhaps that would finally elicit some kind of reaction from him. If nothing else, she could laugh at him.

  She approached the tree but was dismayed to find that many apples were already plucked and no fresh ones on the ground. Looking up she shrugged her shoulders. There was really only one option.

  *****

  Darcy sat in Longbourn’s parlour, annoyed. Bingley had been overeager to arrive for the dinner and came above an hour early. Mrs. Bennet was shriller in her own home, the younger girls sillier at each encounter, and he would wager that Mr. Bennet was content to laugh at them all. Bingley and the eldest Miss Bennet were sitting together and talking.

  He rolled his eyes. His friend was besotted again, but he had no fear of it lasting more than the usual few weeks. What could possibly attract his attention longer? That the Bennets could not improve Bingley’s situation in life was rather clear. She was a gentleman’s daughter, but he already knew of their poor connections. Miss Bingley was quick to learn the details on all their neighbours. As for her charms…well, she was classically beautiful but smiled too much, seemed to hold little opinion on any matter, had no wit, and did not appear to play an instrument or sing. Mrs. Bennet was the sort to make the most out of what her daughters had to attract a suitor, and it was rather clear she believed her eldest daughter’s greatest asset was her beauty. He shook his head at the notion of marrying over such a transient thing. What a fool a man would be to do so! Yet others before him had done as much.

  Caroline and Louisa would usually be excruciatingly cloying for his attention but instead sat silently, taking everything in to criticise later. There was a decided lack of sense in the room. Where was Miss Elizabeth?

  He was annoyed that his thoughts drifted to her. She attracted him more than he liked. Only a few days ago he determined her scarcely pretty, and now it seemed every time he even glanced at her she grew in beauty. Presently he could not understand it at all, but he was rather certain only a fortnight ago he believed her figure flawed and her manners too unpolished. Now he admitted to anticipating their meetings. He shook his head and tried to hide the mortification he felt at his thoughts. Did he not just think men fools for marrying based only on attraction? Although surely his thoughts did not tend toward marriage, he admired her, that was all. She was lovely, intelligent, and witty. Knowing her other family, he could hazard a guess how strong her character was to better herself so much. Mrs. Bennet offered a tour of the home, and Darcy used the moment of distraction to slip out of doors.

  Walking around the small park, he espied a very fine old tree, picked of most of its apples, which provided nice shade. Glancing at his watch, he estimated that he could enjoy nearly half an hour of peace. So he sat and pulled out a book of sonnets he carried with him when he had moments of leisure. He hated standing in idleness or being left to converse with strangers.

  He had just settled himself when he heard a bit of a shriek and, looking up, saw a white blur tumbling down. Before he could react, a heavy basket dropped on his head.

  The next thing Darcy saw was the worried expression in Elizabeth Bennet’s beautiful eyes. He was no longer sitting, but instead sprawled out below the tree. The hit to the head must have caused him to briefly lose consciousness.

  “Mr. Darcy! Can you hear me now?” She was speaking very loudly.

  “My hearing is quite fine, Miss Bennet.”

  “Then you are well? After the basket fell, you seemed unconscious for a moment. No one ever told you not to sit under an apple tree?”

  He slowly shook his head, groaning a little while feeling bits of apple on him. Some bitter juice invaded his mouth, and he scowled. He began to pick himself clean, and Elizabeth stifled a laugh. He looked up at her expectantly.

  “Forgive me, sir.” She again stifled a laugh.

  “I understand you find this amusing?”

  “It is only that this is the first time I have seen you express much of anything since the Assembly.”

  “Since the Assembly?”

  “I have said too much. How is your head?”

  “I feel a bit like a basket of apples fell on it.” She laughed outright at that, and Darcy was surprised to feel his pulse race. Not only was her beauty unparalleled at such a moment, but he knew to make this woman laugh was a privilege denied to most.

  “Can you get up?” she asked, and he had to clear the fog of his thoughts.

  “I believe so.” He glanced up at the tree as he began to stand, hiding an expression of pain.

  “Since you have had the pleasure of laughing at me, Miss Bennet, I rather hope you could answer what you and your basket were doing up there.”

  Elizabeth blushed prettily but laughed as well. “I was collecting apples for our dessert as some catastrophe befell the pastry Mama had ordered. She is vexed beyond compare over it.”

  “So you were the dutiful daughter to pick apples? Now, were you simply the first to be dressed, or are you the best tree climber?”

  “You tease very well, sir! In truth, I am the dutiful sister. Mama wishes to impress Mr. Bingley, and I wish to help for Jane’s sake.”

  He was a bit surprised that Mrs. Bennet did not wish to impress him, but Elizabeth was likely wise enough to know not to mention it to him. Still, he mumbled, “I am certain there are five thousand reasons to impress Bingley.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Jane thinks Mr. Bingley is the most amiable gentleman she has ever met, and I assure you, it is through understanding his character that she likes him more with each meeting. You will think us simpletons, but I speak for myself and all my sisters when I say we wish to marry for companionship and affection. While I hope we would never be imprudent with money, our dearest wish is for friendship in marriage.”

  Feeling thoroughly chastised, he could only nod his head. Taking out his watch, he acknowledged the tour was likely over and dinner about to begin. Seeing the basket was battered, he found his hat, then gathered the intact apples.

  “We should return.” He held out his hand to help Elizabeth stand and could not miss her grimace as she put weight on her feet. “Forgive me, I did not ask if you were injured.”

  “I did not know that I was. It is only a twisted ankle, I am sure. Not my first.”

  “Nor your last?”

  “Contrary to what you believe of me, Mr. Darcy, I am seldom in the practice of climbing trees,” she said testily, but he would not have it.

  “In the last…three years?”

  Despite her previous annoyance, she let out a light laugh. “You have found me out. Mama put me out at fifteen, but I indulged myself in childish pursuits on occasion until I felt I really must grow up.”

  He laughed. “I am pleased to hear it. I have a sister who is just fifteen. I can no longer deny she is nearly grown, but I enjoy thinking of her as having some youthful innocence still.” He pushed away thoughts of his father’s godson, George Wickham, nearly eloping with her. “Can you walk if you lean on my arm?”
/>   She placed her gloved hand on his arm, and he would have been embarrassed at the feelings he felt if he did not see her cheeks turn pink as well.

  “We shall go slowly.”

  She nodded, but he could see her struggle with each step. Putting aside his own discomfort, he chose to talk.

  *****

  Elizabeth was surprised to find Mr. Darcy so friendly and obliging, even teasing.

  “I think I would wish my sister as fearless as you. She was always a very cautious child. Neither of us were given to levity,” he said.

  “And now?”

  “She has recently seemed to exercise her opinion in a more…adult way.”

  “Your poor mother. It is a trying age for a young lady to be sure. You can imagine after five daughters it is some cause for my mother’s nerves.”

  “I wish my mother was alive to share in the nerves; alas, it falls to me and my cousin as guardians.”

  “I did not know; I am profusely sorry for your loss.” He nodded in acceptance, and she was momentarily lost on what to say. Surprisingly, he began to laugh.

  “What is the cause for your merriment?”

  He looked at her, eyes twinkling. “I am uncertain I should say.”

  “Come, I dearly love a laugh.”

  “I was imagining having five sisters and realised I would either go to an early grave or be the silliest man in the Kingdom. I have heard enough of Bingley’s sisters’ prattle about fashion. To hear one more mention of lace…”

  Elizabeth erupted in laughter, and when she calmed, she gladly shared her amusement. “My father also cannot bear talk of lace. Now you may understand why he is so fond of his library!”

  He grinned. “So there might be some hope for me after all? But I do not think your father is always so alone in his library. You are a frequent visitor, are you not?”

  “I am fond of reading, and we have enjoyed many healthy debates. I hope, sir, you encourage your sister to read.”

  “I assure you, Georgiana needs no such encouragement. Although I sometimes must redirect her interests from sentimental novels to weightier topics.”

  Smiling, Elizabeth replied, “That is as it should be. The elder brother must be the protector of her mind as much as her heart.” He seemed pained at her words, and she could only think that mentioning his care for her reminded him of the loss of his parents. “I am sorry; I broach a painful topic, forgive me.”

  “Do not trouble yourself; all is well. I think, perhaps, my sister might benefit from the influence of well-mannered young ladies nearer her age than her aunts and companion.”

  “Does she not know Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley?” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she nodded. “I see.”

  “Our acquaintance is very new, but would you give some thought to taking up a correspondence with her?”

  “I am flattered, but it hardly seems appropriate without having met her.”

  He was silent for some minutes, and Elizabeth perceived he was processing many thoughts. “Mr. Darcy?”

  “Excuse me, I was thinking too intently. I am uncertain she will desire to visit here, but if I ever have the pleasure of making you two acquainted, I am certain she would be the better for it.”

  She blushed a little, and by then they had reached the house. Darcy handed his hat full of apples to the butler, and they were shown into the dining-parlour where the others were already gathered.

  “Lizzy! Where have you been? And look at you!”

  Darcy spoke, “Forgive me, madam, but I found your daughter in need of assistance as I walked the garden.”

  “Assistance?”

  “Mama, it is only a little sprain. I shall rest it after the meal. There is no need to worry about me.”

  Mrs. Bennet’s brow furrowed, and her eyes focused on her daughter.

  “Mrs. Bennet, I compliment you on this spread and am most especially looking forward to dessert.”

  “Oh…well, yes, a special treat to showcase our apples. I always say there is no other place in England where you will find so nice an apple as Hertfordshire.”

  Elizabeth glanced at Darcy and was pleased to see a light smile on his face. Where she once would have felt mortification, she could only feel amusement at so much they had shared.

  *****

  March 1812

  Rosings Park, Kent

  Elizabeth sat under an apple tree along her favourite path at Rosings. The flowers were just beginning to bud, and it would be weeks before the apples came, but she smiled to herself just the same. She would always think of apple trees and her Mr. Darcy. At least she very much wished he was to be her Mr. Darcy.

  During the weeks he had spent in Hertfordshire the previous autumn, she grew to admire him greatly. His character was intricate and not easily sketched, one she would be happy to have a lifetime with. Falling from the apple tree began it all, as he was most attentive to her. He and Bingley called several times in the subsequent fortnight. Darcy escorted her around the garden, as she could not walk far, and they always stopped at the apple tree for some moments. Elizabeth learned even more of him when she stayed at Netherfield to assist Jane, who fell ill while visiting.

  He could engage her in conversation as no other and treated her opinions as an equal. Once he felt comfortable with his surroundings, he easily conversed and laughed. Their conversations varied from serious to silly. When they first met, he seemed all haughty arrogance, but over time she saw that his reserve and sarcastic wit resembled her own esteemed father’s but with greater sense and understanding. Where her father laughed, Darcy gently encouraged. Her mother and sisters would be silly, but perhaps they were not in so much danger as bringing them all to ridicule now.

  Eventually, in late November, time came for him to depart Netherfield. They had taken one last walk to the now completely bare apple tree.

  “Miss Elizabeth, I hope you know how highly I have come to regard our friendship and how I have enjoyed our walks…and this apple tree. I shall miss…it.”

  He seemed so nervous that she could only help him along in the way she knew best. “To show how I also value our friendship I pledge that I will only walk to this tree with you. Now you see, you will have to return to Netherfield before too long, or I shall be forced to shun a portion of my own garden!”

  He smiled weakly and squeezed the hand that rested on his arm. “I wish I may, I wish I may.”

  Several weeks passed before he returned, and then it was on the happy occasion of Jane and Bingley’s wedding. He brought Miss Darcy with him. Although shy at first, Elizabeth and Georgiana were soon fast friends. The Darcys returned to Town after the wedding breakfast, and Elizabeth had no time for private conversation with Mr. Darcy. However, she and Georgiana eagerly began a correspondence.

  Darcy visited again a few weeks later. On a warm February day, she told Darcy of meeting Mr. George Wickham, a new lieutenant in the militia stationed in Meryton, just after Darcy left the area in November. Upon hearing Mr. Darcy of Pemberley had come to Bingley’s wedding, Mr. Wickham blamed Darcy as the cause of his poverty. Elizabeth could not believe his words.

  Darcy’s eyes flashed in anger, but he told her the truth of his history with the reprobate, including Wickham’s designs on Georgiana. After the emotional turmoil had passed, he looked at her intently.

  “You were walking in the garden when he spoke of me?”

  “Yes.”

  Very quietly, he asked, “May I ask where in the garden you were walking?”

  “By the wilderness.” She could not understand why he was so concerned over the location of the conversation.

  His eyes closed in relief. “So you did not walk to our, this, tree?”

  Blushing and averting her eyes, she shook her head. “No, sir. I keep my pledges.”

  Her heart began to beat faster, and she heard him take in a quick breath.

  Stealing a look at him, she was entranced by what she saw and hardly knew what to hope for next.

  “As do I, Mis
s Bennet.”

  She held her breath waiting for him to say more, but he turned them back to the house. After speaking with her father about Wickham, Darcy departed the next day. She knew he was well, though he was very busy with some financial investments, due to her correspondence with his sister, but it could not take the place of seeing him.

  Now she was in Kent visiting Mrs. Collins, her newly married friend. Mr. Collins, aside from being Elizabeth’s cousin and her father’s heir, was the rector for a very great lady who happened to be Darcy’s aunt. He arrived yesterday and immediately called on the parsonage, but Elizabeth desperately wished they might walk together once more.

  *****

  Darcy stormed out of the big house. He had just done battle with his aunt, who refused to accept his statements that he would not marry his cousin. Anne, of course, had always been in complete agreement with him and attempted to explain to her mother, but the lady would think as she wished. He shook his head. At the moment, he wished to have only one thought, of the one who had been at the centre of most of his since a lovely day in October. Elizabeth.

  He intended to walk to the parsonage but found her sitting under a newly blooming tree near the lane he favoured. Her eyes were closed, and she did not hear his approach.

  “Elizabeth?”

  She sighed. “Fitzwilliam.” Darcy thought he would have to kiss her right there. She seemed to suddenly realise this was not a dream, and her eyes flew open even as she coloured. “Mr. Darcy!”

  He sat down beside her. “I find you under an apple tree instead of atop of one.”

  She laughed, and he grinned. Her laughter ceased when she looked discerningly at his face. “You look tired. Was your journey yesterday so unbearable?”

  “No, what is twenty miles of good road? It is my aunt who is unbearable.”

  She would not reply but suppressed a smile.

  “I always knew she would not take my news well, and that is why I have put it off as long as I have. I told you once I keep my promises. This particular one does not bring me much joy, but I must follow my duty.”