When Elizabeth Met Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation by Rosamund Redgrave

Author:Rosamund Redgrave [Redgrave, Rosamund]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Alternate Universe, Not in Amazon Library, To Transfer
Goodreads: 220990115
Publisher: Redgrave Press
Published: 2024-10-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5 - Elizabeth

I am still tingling from Mr. Darcy’s impassioned defense of my humble sketch when the first fat droplet of rain lands squarely on Mrs. Harrington’s nose, causing her to let out a most undignified squeak. The sound is quickly followed by a rumble of thunder that seems to shake the very ground beneath our feet.

“Oh! The sketches!” Miss Fairfax cries out, clutching her portfolio to her chest. Around me, the artistic party erupts into chaos as ladies scramble to protect their precious works from the rapidly increasing rainfall.

I attempt to gather my supplies with something approaching dignity, but the wind chooses that precise moment to snatch my loose papers from my hands. They dance away on the breeze like wayward butterflies, and I let out a most unladylike exclamation.

“Allow me,” Mr. Darcy says, already springing into action. He moves with surprising agility, catching one sheet after another as they spiral through the air. His fine coat is becoming thoroughly soaked, his cravat drooping in the downpour, but he seems utterly unconcerned with his appearance as he pursues my errant artwork.

“Mr. Darcy, please, you will ruin your coat!” I call out, even as I chase after a particularly stubborn sketch that seems determined to make its way to the Serpentine.

“Hang the coat,” he replies, his voice carrying over the increasing patter of rain. The words are so unexpected, so unlike his usual precise manner of speaking, that I cannot help but laugh despite the rain now plastering my hair to my face.

I hear Mrs. Harrington calling out behind us, trying to organize the group’s retreat to the nearest shelter, but her voice is growing fainter. Mr. Darcy and I have followed my rebellious sketches quite a distance from the others, and I realize with a start that we are now closer to the small Greek-style folly near the water’s edge than to our original gathering spot.

“This way,” Mr. Darcy says, gently taking my elbow and guiding me toward the structure. His touch, even through my sodden sleeve, sends warmth spreading through me despite the chill of the rain.

We dash up the steps of the folly just as another crack of thunder booms overhead. The small structure offers reasonable shelter, with its columned walls providing protection from both rain and wind. Through the curtain of rain, I can barely make out the rest of our party huddled under the large oak tree near our original position, their colorful dresses and parasols creating a bright blur in the distance.

“I believe these are all of them,” Mr. Darcy says, presenting me with my recovered sketches. His hair is dripping onto his forehead, his usually immaculate appearance completely undone by his efforts on my behalf. Yet somehow, he has never looked more handsome to me than in this moment.

“Thank you,” I say, attempting to smooth my own wet hair away from my face. “Though I fear your valet will never forgive me for the state of your coat.”

“He will survive the disappointment,” Mr.

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