A Walk in the Park.

Posted on November 11, 2008

Sixteen year old Elizabeth Bennet breathed in the cold air of the frigid November morning, hissing slightly as the iciness of the air stung the back of her throat. In many respects walking into the park a street away from her Aunts home this early in the morning, was not the best of ideas. It was cold, and the mist of the previous night still hung in the air. But Elizabeth had taken one look outside her window, and the prospect of walking outside in the peace and quiet had drawn her like a moth to a flame.

The streets were still quiet, there were not many who would be out this early in the morning. She looked over her shoulder and nodded to Edwards, her Aunts footman. She felt that she could have managed quite well on her own. But, her Aunt had insisted that if she was to take a walk anywhere in London that someone accompany her. London was not like the country lanes of Hertfordshire, here there were those that would mean her harm.

She sighed happily as the entrance to the park came into view. Even the mere sight of the lush greenery was enough to sooth any agitation that had been present in her person.

Edwards followed at a sedate pace, giving Miss Elizabeth the space he knew she desired. He liked Miss Elizabeth, he had always enjoyed her visits. She was incredibly witty and her lively personality had made her many a favourite in the Gardiner household. She made no distinction of rank when she spoke to those around her, and would converse quite happily with a servant as she would a relative. In fact if he were twenty years younger, he felt he may have entertained a fancy toward the young Miss. He smiled and shook his head slightly as he watched her practically skip through the entrance of the park. It was as the young Miss said, as long as there were trees and all things green, she was contented.

Fitzwilliam Darcy had not been able to sleep. This was not a new thing, he had been afflicted thusly for the past week. All he could he see every time he closed his eyes, was the sight of his dearest Father slumped over his desk.. Cold, pale and unmoving. It was fortunate that they had been able to save Georgiana the sight of their Papa in such a state.

His sister, there was another matter entirely. All she had done for the past week was sit in the music room, starring into space. She did not speak, she barely ate, he was at a loss as to what to do with her. He was a young man, what did he know of what a young girl needed. His Father had always been good with Georgiana, he would have known what to do.

Such thoughts for anyone would have been suffocating under normal circumstances. But, for Darcy, he felt them keenly, he now had responsibility for everything his Father had presided over, including his dearest sister.

What was he to do?

How would he cope?

He had given up trying to sleep after tossing and turning in his bed for half the night. He had then dressed, and after an hour of trying to read, his thoughts had become too much for him. He had felt suffocated, closed in as if the very walls were closing in on him. It was at this that he'd had enough, he had grabbed his coat and hat and exited the house and made his way onto the still dark streets of London.

He had walked in no particular direction for about an hour until he found himself at the entrance to a park. The promise of peace and tranquillity amongst the colourful array of Autumn leaves drew him in. He walked in a little ways and found himself at a small bench. He sat down taking in the colourful bouquet, and for the first time in several days he felt himself relax. He allowed the fate sounds of the birds twittering in the trees and the wind rustling through the leaves to wash over him. His Father would have enjoyed this, he thought.

He felt his eyes sting, and he blinked several times trying to clear the feeling. His throat felt tight, and then he felt a wave of grief and loneliness raise up within him. It was almost too much for him. He glanced around quickly, seeing that nobody was about. He let the emotions rip through him and the tears fall down his cheeks and for the first time since his beloved Papa died. He allowed himself to cry.

Elizabeth was enjoying herself immensely, she loved the meandering paths of this particular park and the surrounding greenery seemed to calm her restless spirit. It was as she wondered round a particular bend that the sight of a man sat on a bench with his head in his hands startled her from her musings. She looked back at Edwards and the slight nod from him told him that he had indeed seen the man. She stopped dead in the middle of the path, inwardly debating whoever to turn and walk another way through the park, or to merely carry on and hope that she was not noticed.

It was as she continued to observe and debate her course of action that something odd struck her about the man. His shoulders were shaking as if he were sobbing. She unconsciously moved closer, and her ears caught the hitch in his breathing and his sniffling as he tried to keep himself contained. She moved closer once more and took in his person. The man was dressed in very fine apparel, he was obviously a man of means, a gentleman or a tradesman at the very least.

It was with her continued observance that she noticed something else about the man, he didn't have a handkerchief.

Felling herself unfreeze, and compassion moved within her. She reached into the pocket of her Spencer, pulled out a handkerchief and moved toward the bench.

Darcy heard the crunching of leaves as if someone was approaching him, he lifted his head up and found himself looking at the figure of a young woman with brown eyes that were full of concern. She looked at him for a moment and then held her hand out. He looked to her hand and the handkerchief that lay within, he glanced at her again and she spoke.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you Sir, but you seemed to be without a handkerchief and as I am sure you have found, your sleeves will only go so far." She said, a sad sort of half smile gracing her features.

He considered her for a moment and seeing nothing other than genuine compassion in her features, he reached and took the offered handkerchief.

"Thank you." He croaked and wiped his eyes.

She curtsied, and then turned as if to walk away from him. She paused briefly, turned looked on him again,

"I hope whatever ails you Sir is brief in it's passing." She said gently and then turned away once more.

Elizabeth had only walked a few steps, when she heard his soft reply.

"My Father died."

She turned to face him, the sadness in his countenance almost making her heart break for him.

"I am very sorry to hear that Sir, you have my condolences in this difficult time. I can only imagine at what you must be going through."

He acknowledged her reply with a brief nod and his gaze dropped to the floor. Elizabeth thought for a moment, then spoke.

"My Aunt lost her Mother some two years ago." His gaze found hers again, "She seemed to handle it so well, I never saw her cry or become withdrawn from any of us. I later asked her how she could appear so well in the face of such loss. She told me that although she missed her Mother dearly, that it did not do for her to mourn all that could never be. That she had decided to think of all the happy memories that she and her Mother had shared. She told me that in the midst of her sadness she was able to celebrate her Mother's life and all that she had been able to share with her. She said that thinking only on her and her Mother's past as it gave her pleasure served to lessen her sadness and helped to fortify her spirits."

"Your Aunt seems like a very wise woman" he said quietly.

Elizabeth nodded, "That she is, I am convinced she is the wisest person I know," she looked around and caught Edward's gaze who seemed to hurry her along, "I'm afraid I must be going now Sir, I have tarried too long in the park and I'm afraid my escort is eager to be back to his duties."

It was only then that Darcy noticed the stocky footman who seemed to hover several feet behind the young Miss. He turned his gaze back to her and nodded,

"Of course, might I enquire who is it I have been speaking with?" He asked.

Elizabeth nodded, "Only if I might enquire the same Sir?"

"Of course, my name is Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire." He said with a nod of his head.

Years of being schooled in the ways of etiquette made Elizabeth drop into a curtsey as she replied,

"Pleased to make your acquaintance Mr Darcy, my name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire." She then smiled at him, "I hope that one day we may meet again under less unfortunate circumstances."

"As do I Miss Bennet." He replied.

Elizabeth nodded to him, and then made her way back along the path followed by Edwards who in turn tipped his hat to Darcy.

Darcy watched her leave, and then decided that he himself had tarried out of doors for too long, he did not want to worry Georgiana. He got up from the bench, dusted himself off and made his way back to his townhouse.

It was later, alone in his study that he discovered that he had forgotten to return the young ladies handkerchief to her. He briefly wondered about the possibility of returning it to her, but common sense won over in telling him it would be highly improper for him to return the article to her by post, and he doubted he would be travelling in that area anytime soon.

It was as he fingered the stitching of the flowers on the fabric, that the memory of her words came back to him and he smiled. A good philosophy of any that he had heard, he tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket and then went about his day. His Father would have liked that.