More than once did Elizabeth in her ramble within the park unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time therefore was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilful ill nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third recontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions - about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings and her not perfectly understanding the house he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? She supposed, if he meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. It distressed her a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the parsonage.

Chapter One

The fourth such occurrence brought more than just the displeasure of his company.

Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged to wait out a storm beneath an enormous sycamore tree. The time was not unpleasantly spent. She rather enjoyed the moment of solitude despite the rain. Elizabeth was reflecting on her sister Jane's last letter when the sudden sound of snapping branches drew her attention.

A cloaked figure came into view, startling her; Elizabeth shrieked aloud.

"Miss Bennet," said the figure, holding out a hand toward her. "Forgive me, I did not mean to alarm you." The man removed his hat.

"Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, catching her breath. She was relieved to find it was only he, though not entirely pleased to have encountered him on her walk yet again. "I thought for certain you would have relinquished your rambles today in deference to the rain." Indeed, the only reason Elizabeth had ventured out despite the threatening weather was rooted in that very idea.

"I would you had thought the same," he said. "I called at Hunsford and Mrs. Collins informed me you had set off on your own quite a long time ago."

"Not so very long," said Elizabeth. "And as you see, I am well."

"Quite." After the first moment of their greeting, Mr. Darcy had fixed his gaze on the tree just past her left shoulder and had not yet once removed it. Elizabeth found it vexing and could not understand why, nor did she understand the silence that followed to be anything but an imposition on her solitary reverie.

"Did Mrs. Collins ask you to come look for me?" asked Elizabeth. Charlotte had hinted more than once that Mr. Darcy's interest was too marked to be the polite attention of a passing acquaintance, but Elizabeth had dismissed the notion out of hand. Charlotte was clever enough to bestir circumstance, though, should the opportunity present itself and Elizabeth suspected this was precisely such a case.

Elizabeth loved her friend dearly, but Charlotte would answer for this.

"Mrs. Collins did ask me," said Mr. Darcy. "But I would have come looking for you myself had she not done so."

At that proclamation Elizabeth began to laugh, amused at the notion. "Whyever so, Mr. Darcy? Did you fear I'd perish in a rain shower?"

"There have been reports of highwaymen not far from here, Miss Bennet," said Mr. Darcy, his voice rather more stern than it had been before. "You would do well remain in company on your walks in the future."

"I see," she said. He did not respond for a long moment.

"It is hardly customary to laugh at the goodwill of a friend, Miss Bennet. I wonder that you should sneer at Mrs. Collins's concern for your well-being."

Elizabeth remembered at once a conversation with Miss Caroline Bingley; she'd warned that Mr. Darcy was not to be teased. Her mirth diminished at the memory, but only somewhat.

"We have established that my being is quite well, Mr. Darcy. Allow me to thank you for your concern. You may certainly return to the house and report as much to all and sundry."

"You mean, return alone? To leave you here?"

"Yes, sir."

He looked at her then, disbelief in his eyes. His color rose quickly, and he returned his gaze to the tree.

"Miss Bennet, I cannot in good conscience leave you to fend for yourself in these woods under these circumstances. Now may I please offer you my coat?"

"Your coat? Whatever for?"

"Miss Elizabeth..."

Mr. Darcy appeared unable to complete his thought.

"I understand your concern for my health, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, though she did not.

"It is not my concern for your health that prompts my offer." His reply was curt and not a little harsh. "The rain has rendered your clothing all but transparent, and it is my belief that you would not wish to be seen in a state of such dishabille."

Mr. Darcy still would not look at her as he spoke. Elizabeth looked down to discover that his assessment was indeed correct. She'd fled the walls of Hunsford in search of air, foregoing a cloak, scoffing at the gathering clouds in a small act of defiance. The pale fabric of her gown and the garments beneath it were wet through, clinging to every curve and hollow of her torso.

"I see you are correct," said Elizabeth, her own color rising. "I am sorry. I would accept the offer of your coat." He removed the garment, holding it for her as well as any trained valet.

"You need not apologize, Miss Elizabeth," said Mr. Darcy once her whole self was covered and warmed by his coat. He found he could look at her now with some ease, and though he disliked to have brought her any discomfort, he noted the color in her cheeks brightened her eyes considerably. Mr. Darcy's intentions were of the highest nature, but in a small moment he let himself wonder what other exertions might bring such light to her complexion.

"Will you permit me to escort you back to the house?" he asked. "Mrs. Collins will be looking for us, I think."

"I daresay she will," said Elizabeth, taking his arm as he led her from the shelter of the tree. The rain had abated briefly; only a fine mist impeded their progress. There was little left of the humor in her voice, but she recovered herself presently. "I hope you will forgive Mrs. Collins."

"Mrs. Collins gives no offense whatsoever," Mr. Darcy replied neutrally. "She is among the most forbearing women of my acquaintance and has all my respect."

"I take your meaning, sir, and as her friend I thank you," said Elizabeth, for Mr. Collins could be no easy partner, not for any woman. "But you see, for all her forbearance, Mrs. Collins has a working mind."

"If she is to be called your friend, I should expect nothing less," said Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth looked up at him in some surprise but his countenance admitted nothing, his eyes trained on the path before them. Her consternation at being found by him, and his being witness to the state of her dress, and that he must think her such a nuisance all welled up within her, begging that he be provoked in return.

"Mrs. Collins is of the opinion that your continued presence at Rosings and, more specifically, our repeated meetings here stem from your silent desire of me. What say you to that?"

Mr. Darcy stopped walking. Elizabeth let slip her hand from his arm and continued on as though no change had occurred.

"I have assured her this is most certainly not the case. Rather, I've informed her of my own guess; that you remain at the behest of your friend and cousin, the most agreeable Colonel Fitzwilliam, who has professed his fondest admiration for me and who seeks to win my hand by his continued presence here, therefore insisting upon your own." Elizabeth stopped on the path then, keeping her smile contained and polite, with the barest hint of teasing. "What do you think, Mr. Darcy? Will you dash the hopes of Mrs. Collins and give life to my own?"

Mr. Darcy did not speak for a moment, and when he did his voice was dark.

"You entertain hopes for my cousin, then?"

"Now that is no answer at all," cried Elizabeth.

"It is not." Mr. Darcy advanced in her direction, compelling Elizabeth to take a step backward. He continued until she found herself backed against the trunk of another large sycamore, sheltered from the now drizzling rain but held captive by the anger in Mr. Darcy's face. "Answer my question, if you please."

Elizabeth felt the coat slipping from her shoulders; she and Mr. Darcy reached as one to pull it back into place.

"Miss Bennet, what in Heaven's name are you doing?"