5thNovember 1811
Oakham Mount.
Elizabeth
Aside from a single and entirely unwelcome appearance in her dreams on Sunday night, which she refused to examine too closely, Elizabeth had enjoyed a welcome respite from the gentlemen of Netherfield since their visit to Longbourn.
Three days of ordinary Hertfordshire life. It was precisely what she had needed.
Tuesday morning broke clear and cold. She set out early, before the rest of the household was fully awake, with no greater object than the pleasure of the walk itself. For once, her thoughts were settled. She walked briskly, breathed the sharp morning air, and found herself more at ease than she had been for several weeks.
She was nearly at the summit of Oakham Mount when she saw him.
Even from behind, she knew him at once.
Mr. Darcy was seated upon a fallen log near the edge of the rise, entirely alone and looking out over the valley below.
He had not heard her approach.
Elizabeth stopped.
There was something undeniably absurd about the sight.
Fitzwilliam Darcy, master of Pemberley, possessed of ten thousand a year, seated upon a log in the Hertfordshire countryside at half-past seven in the morning as though he had nowhere else in the world to be.
As though sensing her attention, he turned his head.
Their eyes met.
For a moment Elizabeth forgot how to speak, and very nearly how to breathe.
Then she continued up the path, for there was nothing else to be done, and came to a halt a few feet away with what she hoped was an expression of complete unconcern.
"Mr. Darcy," she said. "Good morning."
"Miss Bennet." He rose at once. "Good morning."
Elizabeth looked at him, then at the log, before returning her gaze to his face.
"I seem destined to encounter you wherever I go," she observed. "It is beginning to feel almost deliberate."
"As I told you before, I am partial to morning walks."
"You did mention it. Yet I should have thought Hertfordshire possessed more than one suitable path, and somehow we continue to choose the same ones." She tilted her head slightly. "I had understood it was Miss Darcy whose acquaintance I was expected to cultivate. Why is it her brother I keep encountering?"
To his credit, he appeared entirely untroubled by the accusation.
"You make a fair point. As it happens, you may remedy the matter today. Georgiana mentioned yesterday that she intended to write to you. Bingley, Hurst, and I are engaged to dine with Colonel Forster, and Georgiana hoped you might spend the afternoon at Netherfield. I trust you will oblige her."
"Colonel Forster?" Elizabeth raised her brows, choosing to ignore the mention of Georgiana's invitation. "You are acquainted with Colonel Forster?"
"I am."
Elizabeth smiled in surprise. "I should not have thought him a gentleman of your acquaintance. Meryton has largely convinced itself that you do not socialise."
"I have known Colonel Forster for several years," Darcy replied, a faint smile appearing in return. "He is a close friend of my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. They entered the militia together and served in London for some years before Colonel Forster obtained his present commission."
"I see." Elizabeth considered this. "Though I confess your calling at Longbourn still occasions me greater astonishment than your acquaintance with Colonel Forster. I had not imagined you a gentleman who visited people."
