Since it was August, the morning was slightly cool, and a light mist lingered along the ground. The distant hedgerows and fields were softened by it, while the first true rays of sunlight stretched across the countryside, catching upon the dew that still clung to the grass.
Here and there, late summer blooms brightened the path—sprays of meadowsweet and yarrow, with the last of the wild roses fading where the open fields gave way to bramble and fern at the edge of the wood. Elizabeth noticed how the colours softened in the morning light, the petals still heavy with dew as she passed. The air was fresh, touched with the faint scent of wild thyme beneath her feet, and alive with birdsong that seemed to echo more clearly in the stillness.
She focused on these as she walked, for Elizabeth found herself particularly in need of such solitude that morning. Of late, she had found very little time to herself, and she had sought this moment to consider all that must soon change. She was happy—more than happy—to be marrying her dear Fitzwilliam; yet the awareness of how entirely her life would alter in the coming days pressed upon her thoughts in a manner both exhilarating and sobering.
Despite her intention of seeking quiet, she was far from displeased to find him there.
“Good morning, Fitzwilliam,” she called as she drew nearer to where he stood at the crest of the hill, his horse’s reins held loosely in his hands.
He turned to face her, and his lips curved at once into a look of unfeigned delight.
“I had not expected to see you here, Elizabeth,” he said, moving towards her. “But I cannot say that I am not pleased by it.”
Careful not to release the reins, he reached for her with his free hand and drew her nearer. He bent to kiss her lightly, his arm settling about her in a brief, one-armed embrace—one that was more restrained than either of them might have wished.
“That is not the embrace I had intended,” he added, with a glance at the horse. “Pray give me a moment, and I shall secure him properly, that I may do it justice.”
Grinning, she allowed him to release her—but not without rising slightly to press a quick kiss to his cheek before he could step away.
“What did I do to deserve that?” he asked, turning back to her with a smile equal to her own.
“Nothing,” she replied; yet the brightness in her countenance suggested she found the reward entirely justified.
They laughed together, and she watched as he turned to do as he had promised, securing his horse with a haste that did not escape her notice. He returned to her almost immediately and drew her into a fullerembrace. Even then, he was careful—there remained a small, deliberate distance between them, as though he would not wholly set aside propriety. Still, it was equally clear that he had no wish to release her.
After a moment, he asked what had brought her out so early; and, meeting his gaze, she answered with only slight hesitation.
“As you know, I enjoy walking, but I confess that this morning, I felt I needed a little time to reflect. I love you dearly, Fitzwilliam, but so much of what I have always known is changing. In only a matter of days, we shall be married, and Longbourn will no longer be my home. It has not felt like my home in some ways for months, but—” she paused, laughing softly at herself, “—ever since we last spoke at Hunsford, I have felt as though my whole world has altered.”
She shook her head, her expression sobering. “And then, to come here—to all that has occurred of late, to Jane acting as she has been…. I no longer know what to think.”
The weight of her confession hung between them, but when he finally spoke, he did so with a gravity that gave her pause.
“You mentioned that Miss Bennet acknowledged feeling some jealousy over our marriage,” Fitzwilliam said seriously. “It may be that she requires a little time to grow accustomed to the alteration in your relationship that must naturally follow from such a connexion; and, once she has had that time to adjust, she may be better reconciled to the change.”
Elizabeth considered this, turning his words over in her mind before giving a small, thoughtful nod. She did not immediately reply, but instead stepped a little closer, aligning herself more fully with him.
She could not be wholly unaware of the effect their proximity had upon him, and though the knowledge threatened to discompose her, she would not draw back. Neither, however, had she any wish to tease him by appearing conscious of it; and so she remained as she was—quiet, thoughtful, and very near.
After a few minutes of remaining thus, Elizabeth drew back. “Let us walk, Fitzwilliam, or I shall grow too accustomed to standing still,” she teased.
This was true; yet she was equally in need of walking off some of the agitation that had attended her return to Longbourn. Her time with her aunt and uncle had been thoroughly enjoyable, but coming home—even for less than two full days—had proven a strain, in light of all that had lately occurred.
Slowly, he withdrew his arms from her waist and offered his arm instead. They walked along the ridge of the mount for several minutes before either spoke.
“Elizabeth,” Fitzwilliam began after a moment, “you are not troubled by our hasty marriage, are you? If you require more time, we may delay the wedding.”
Elizabeth stopped at once and turned to face him, her hand lifting almost without thought to rest lightly against his cheek. “No, Fitzwilliam,” she said, her emotion showing both on her face and in her voice. “I have no desire to delay. I wish to be your wife, and I am entirely happy with our wedding on Wednesday.”
Her thumb moved slightly against his skin before she continued, more steadily, “Postponing it would not make Jane any sooner reconciled, and I have no wish to remain at home longer than necessary.” Her gaze softened. “I would much rather be your wife as soon as may be.”
Smiling, he took her hand from his cheek, but did not at once release it, instead turning her palm to his lips and lingering there. “Then we shall proceed as planned,” he murmured. “I would wait for you, if you wished it—but I confess I am very glad the wait is nearly at an end.”
His gaze remained upon her as he lowered her hand, his thumb brushing lightly across her fingers as he moved it back to his arm so they could continue their walk. “I do not think I could bear to be parted from you any longer than I must.”
“It is a strange thing, is it not?” he said, as they resumed their walk.
“What is?” Elizabeth asked, turning her head to look up at him as they circled the level ground near the summit.
