A Faithful Narrative: A Pride & Prejudice Variation by Smythe Mary

Author:Smythe, Mary
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quills & Quartos Publishing
Published: 2022-03-21T00:00:00+00:00

With the rising sun at his back, Darcy mounted the gentle slope, his heart beating a tattoo against his Adam’s apple as he anticipated his first glimpse of the view from the other side. Beneath him, his steed, Pluto, snorted and stomped his way up the incline, fatigued after their rapid gallop thither. A crisp morning breeze ruffled the knot of Darcy’s cravat as they reached the peak and the insignificant valley below was opened to his perusal.

There it was. Longbourn. So close, and yet too far for him to reach. Darcy breathed deeply and unleashed a sigh heavy with defeat.

It had been three full days since he had seen his Elizabeth—no, not his; she had never been that—and his insides ached to be in her presence again, but Darcy would not go where he was unwanted. And unwanted he obviously was; there was no ambiguity about that. Such a substantial dismissal could hardly be misinterpreted. Elizabeth had not forgiven any of his trespasses.

Nor should she if he was being honest with himself. Darcy’s own temper was implacable and so he could understand why her good opinion, which he had never yet attained, was entirely lost forever. Had he been in her place, it was almost definite that he would have nurtured a grudge against a snooping, craven fellow such as himself for years to come. And he might have done something far worse than simply turn away.

Darcy still felt the bruising impact of Elizabeth’s disdain deep within his chest. He deserved it, of course, for everything he had done to instigate it, but he hoped that it might begin to fade soon. Enduring it day after day was excruciating and nothing seemed to alleviate the pain.

Perhaps time shall be my remedy. Time and distance.

Yes, indeed. The notion of taking himself away to Pemberley, his safe haven from the world, was mightily tempting. However, Darcy had a task to complete before he could depart from Hertfordshire. Once it was done, he would be at liberty to retreat and lick his wounds in the comfort of his ancestral home. He need only bear it a short while longer.

In the meanwhile, only one method had been proven to effectively soothe Darcy’s wounded heart. He was ashamed of his continued weakness, but clandestine glimpses of his beloved Elizabeth were all that—

Movement at the side door of the manor house attracted Darcy’s observation and his breath caught. It might be merely a servant performing the morning chores, or…

It is she.

Even at a distance, her identity quickly became apparent to Darcy. Elizabeth. She was absolutely golden in the sunrise, wearing a straw bonnet adorned in wildflowers and a neatly matching pelisse over her white walking gown. As she turned to close the door behind her, Darcy noted the long ringlets bobbing against her lower back, looking as untamed and sprightly as the rest of her. Dear God, she is magnificent. Truly a goddess.

As Darcy watched her straighten the fingers of her gloves, a sense of peace descended upon him and the painful ache in his chest diminished.

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