Alone with Mr. Darcy: A Pride & Prejudice Variation by Abigail Reynolds Page B

drew back. “We should be going,” he said gruffly. “There is no
telling when someone might come this way.”
    She stiffened, then looked away. “Of
course.” She sat up, flipping her plait over her shoulder. “At least all of our
clothes will be dry to start out with.”
    “That will help.” He took one last deep
breath of the air they had shared, then rose to his feet. If he looked at her
now, he would not be able to stop himself from trying to kiss her again, so
instead he started to prepare to depart. First his topcoat, then his heavy
greatcoat. Today he fastened all the buttons on it, as he had not the previous
day when he had shared it with Elizabeth. Next came his top hat and gloves.
    How could it take so little to be ready to
leave behind all the hours they had spent together? They were still wearing the
clothing they had arrived in. He chanced a glance at Elizabeth who was folding
the quilt, already in her pelisse and bonnet. It took him a moment to realize
what was wrong. She had not put her hair up, but instead left it loose and
stuffed it inside the collar of her pelisse.
    She must have seen his surprised look. “It
is quite improper, I know, but I have no scarf, and it will help to keep my
neck warm.”
    “Very sensible,” he said gravely. It would not be sensible to go to her and pull her hair free, run his fingers
through the silky length, and kiss her until she was senseless.
    He dug in his pocket and pulled out a
handful of silver coins, then piled them neatly on the table. The food and
firewood they had used would likely have lasted the frugal tenants for a week
or more, and they should have fair recompense. He took one last look around the
room, trying to commit it to memory. Something small protruded from the
bedroll. Stooping, he discovered it was a violet hair ribbon. He glanced up.
Elizabeth was facing the other direction and pulling on her gloves. Quickly he
gathered up the ribbon and stuffed it in his pocket.
    “I hope you stay warm, Snowball.”
Elizabeth reached down to scratch the cat’s head, then straightened and said
crisply, “Are you ready?”
    “Yes.” As ready as he would ever be.
    When he lifted the latch, the door moved
inward of its own accord, fluffy snow spilling over the lintel. It must have
piled up by the door during the night. He kicked it out of the way and stepped
outside into a blindingly white world.  Beyond the open fields, trees were
piled high with snow, and he could see ridges which might be buried fences.
    A flash of white fur moved past him and
leapt off into the snow. “Snowball!” he called. Was she to die of cold after
all?”
    “She will be well enough. Cats are good at
finding places to stay warm, like woodpiles. And she clearly did not care to
remain inside.” Still, Elizabeth looked after her wistfully.
    “At least she does not seem to have
difficulty managing in the snow.” He stomped down a small area on the doorstep
and stepped aside to allow Elizabeth to pass.
    She peered around him and gasped. “This is
what I imagine the sea would look like, only blue, and in motion.”
    “It is indeed a veritable sea of snow.” He
pushed his way through the drift of snow. Even beyond it the snow rose to the
top of his boots.
    “I have always wished to see the ocean,
but since I have never been fortunate enough to visit the seaside, this will
have to suffice for me.” Elizabeth lifted her skirts and followed him, picking
her way gingerly in his footprints.
    Now what were they to do? It had been
snowing fiercely when they arrived, and any landmarks had been long since
buried. “Which way is the road?”
    “It is…” Elizabeth pointed to the right,
but then lowered her hand, her head turning from side to side. “I think…if
those trees are the copse I came through, and that rise is Oakham Mount –
no, that cannot be correct.” She turned in a slow circle. “Of course! There is
the tip of the church steeple, so Meryton is that way, and the