Wickham’s face softened apologetically. “Of course. Forgive me. I did not mean to suggest something that would be offensive to you. I had nearly forgot that Miss Darcy was not yet out. It was only the pleasure of good company that made me think of it, but you are quite right. Pray, forget I brought the matter up.”
Darcy pushed back from the table, his breakfast quite forgotten. “I’ve no appetite this morning. I believe I require some exercise.”
Chapter Seventeen
Elizabeth stormed out ofthe house, her mother’s protests trailing behind her as she ran down the garden path, her breath coming in sharp bursts of frustration. “Capture his notice indeed!” she muttered. “As if I were a prize to be won.” She swatted a hanging branch out of her way. “We have never even met the man!”
The crisp winter air stung her cheeks, but she welcomed the sensation, using it to clear the tangled mess of her thoughts. Her father’s indifferent announcement about Mr Collins’ arrival had been infuriating enough, but her mother’s immediate scheming had sent her over the edge. She could still hear her mother’s voice, her absolute surety, as she planned Elizabeth’s future without a second thought for her feelings.
“Not even a word of warning,” she grumbled, kicking a stray pebble off the path. “And now I am to be paraded like a broodmare for Mr Collins!”
She followed the familiar route, the one she often took when her thoughts were too loud to be silenced indoors. “Style my hair!” she grumbled. “Mend my fichu! And what could be so very wrong with my gown that some strange man would care about it? Balderdash!”
Lost in her mutterings, Elizabeth almost didn’t notice the figure approaching on horseback until he was nearly upon her. Startled, she glanced up, her eyes widening in surprise to see Mr Darcy. He seemed equally taken aback, his pale countenance and the slight unsteadiness in his posture betraying an unease that went beyond mere surprise.
“M-Miss Elizabeth,” he stammered. “I did not expect to encounter anyone at this early hour.”
“Nor I, Mr Darcy.” She hesitated, her eyes lingering on his face. His complexion was unusually greenish, the normal healthy glow replaced by a wan, almost sickly hue. Dark shadows underscored his eyes, suggesting many sleepless nights. His jaw was clenched tightly as though he were suppressing discomfort or pain.
Elizabeth’s gaze shifted to his hands, which gripped the reins with a white-knuckled intensity. And there was a slight tremor in his fingers—the way they twitched with each movement of the horse. Even his posture seemed off; instead of his usual erect bearing, he sat with a stiffness that hinted at underlying strain.
Her concern deepened. Darcy was not a man to easily show weakness, yet it was clear that something was amiss. She doubted he would welcome her observation, but… well, it was not as if that was anything unusual of late.
“You appear somewhat out of sorts today,” she said finally. “Are you quite well?”
Darcy stiffened, then forced a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Merely a lack of rest, I assure you. The fresh air seemed a suitable remedy.”
Elizabeth was not convinced. The signs of his discomfort were too glaring to ignore. “Perhaps it would be best if you dismounted and walked for a while. The morning air is indeed refreshing, but it may be more beneficial if taken at a gentler pace. Would you care to join me?”
There was a moment of hesitation before Darcy acquiesced, dismounting with a grace that belied his obvious discomfort. He led his horse alongside as they walked, the rhythmic clopping of hooves on the path a steady counterpoint to their conversation—or lack thereof. He was walking beside her, to be sure, but the looks he kept casting her way were anything but easy. Elizabeth tried smiling tightly, but she could feel the heat of his eyes every time they slid towards her.
“Miss Bennet,” he began after a moment, “If you will forgive me, I should say it isyouwho appear somewhat out of sorts this morning. Might I inquire if anything is amiss?”
Oh, that was simply unfair. She had asked first, had she not? Mr Darcy did not speak by the rules. She ought to simply deflect his question with another question, but upon glancing at him, her defensiveness softened at the genuine concern she saw in his eyes. Well… perhaps there was no harm in sharing… just a little.
“I have just learned we are to have a houseguest.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow. “A houseguest? That seems hardly cause for such evident distress.”
Elizabeth managed a wry grin. “Ordinarily, it would not be. But this particular guest is... well, let us say from what little I know of him, he is not one I would have chosen.”
Darcy remained silent, clearly waiting for her to continue. Elizabeth sighed, glancing at the path ahead as if seeking guidance from its familiar turns.
“It is Mr Collins,” she admitted finally. “He is a distant cousin and my father’s heir, for the estate is entailed. That alone makes his visit awkward enough, but additionally, his arrival has been sprung upon us with little notice. My father, in his usual manner, mentioned it casually at breakfast as if it were of no consequence.”
A flicker of something—understanding, perhaps—crossed Darcy’s face. “And… your mother’s reaction?”
Elizabeth could not help a laugh. “You are more perceptive than you look, Mr Darcy. She has already begun planning how best to secure his notice for me as if I were a bauble to be displayed. It is all rather tiresome.”
“I imagine it must be.”
Elizabeth glanced at him. “And you, Mr Darcy? What brings you out so early this morning?”
Darcy’s gaze shifted, and for a moment, he seemed to weigh his words carefully. “The need for fresh air, as I mentioned. But also... I think you might understand the desire to escape one’s own thoughts for a time.”
Elizabeth studied him. The pallor of his skin and the tension in his posture were impossible to ignore. “It appears we both seek refuge in the morning air, then,” she said softly.
His only response was a hum… more of a grunt, really. He stared at the ground as they walked, his horse’s rein looped over his arm and his right hand clenched strangely.
