Amelia Wood - A Happy Accident

Elizabeth climbed onto the highest peak and took a deep breath. The Derbyshire countryside spread before her, far wilder than the gentle landscape of her own Hertfordshire. In the distance, Elizabeth could see Pemberley. A chill ran through her as she looked at the grand house which, despite the grandeur around her, could not help but catch her eye.

She might have been mistress of Pemberley if she had given its master, Mr Darcy, a different answer all those weeks ago. This country might have been intimately familiar to her already. She might have walked the halls of that house as her own. It was a strange idea.

But there was no room for regrets. Mr Darcy should never have suited her as a husband. Even if she had been wrong about his behaviour towards Wickham and his interference between the match of his friend, Bingley, and Elizabeths sister, Jane, it did nothing to change the fact that he was still a proud, disagreeable man. He would never have allowed Elizabeth to forget the inferiority of her connections or welcomed her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner to Pemberley, even though they were among her dearest connections. Her aunt and uncle would only be allowed see the house as visitors on a tour as they would do tomorrow, but Mr Darcy would never have acknowledged them as family. Recollections like this were fortunate for Elizabeth to have as they spared her from something like regret.

But they did not prevent her from feeling a significant pang whenever she thought of the cold way she had rejected Darcy. She had taken great delight in thwarting his pride and making him understand how little she liked him. It was a cruel rejection to a man who had offered her his heart and his hand and who loved her so well, he was willing to overcome his pride and ask her to be his wife. Elizabeth could not be entirely insensible to the honour he had done her. And now that she understood she had been wrong about his actions, she felt ashamed of her cruelty. She had misjudged him in so many ways; was it possible she had misjudged his pride as well?

No, there she was right. She had not misunderstood the way Darcy refused to befriend the people of Meryton. She had not misheard when he refused to dance with her because he did not find her handsome enough. And she certainly had not been wrong when he told her how it had taken him time to overcome the inferiority of her connections and how he could not have been expected to rejoice in them. Wrong she might have been in other ways, but when it came to his character, she was satisfied she understood him perfectly.

The sun was beginning to sink in the sky. Elizabeth gazed at the golds and pinks with a regretful sigh. There was still plenty of daylight left but she would need it for the five miles she needed to walk back to Lambton over the fields. If she was not to be caught out in the dark, she would need to leave now.

Elizabeth gingerly climbed down the slopes. It was not easy to do in a long gown, but fortunately, she was accustomed to climbing. Still, she would need to be careful. If she took a tumble and sprained her ankle, she would be in dire straits so far from the town while her aunt and uncle had no idea where she was.

A track ran along the edge of the peak. It seemed to lead downwards towards Pemberley. Hopefully from there, she could make her way to the fields that would lead her towards Lambton. There was a steep drop on the other side, but Elizabeth could manage that well enough. She landed on the track with a satisfied thump and began walking towards Pemberley, trying to keep her thoughts away from the future she had rejected so coldly.

The thunder of hoof beats came behind her, coming closer and closer. Elizabeth pulled her mind from her thoughts to see who was coming. Whoever they were, they seemed in a great hurry.

A chestnut stallion galloped around the bend, coming into her view. A tall man leaned low over the saddle as the horse raced around the bend. The man saw her just as she saw him. He reigned in his horse at once then turned to look at her. Elizabeths eyes widened in shock as she gaped at the face she thought never to see again.

Mr Darcy, she gasped. In a whirl of confusion, she turned to walk away from him. In her haste, she missed her footing. Her fingers closed over empty air as she felt the ground disappear from under her. She thought she heard an anguished voice call her name before everything went silent.

Darcy threw himself from the saddle, his stomach rolling with horror.

Elizabeth! he shouted. He ran to the edge of the cliff, trying to prepare himself for the horror he was sure he was about to see.

Elizabeth lay on a little ledge some feet below. She lay on her back, her head turned to the side, her eyes closed. Darcy felt as though he would be ill. He threw the reins to one side as he scrambled over the edge. His feet slipped and slid as he attempted to navigate the steep slope.

I am here, Elizabeth, he said over and over again. He could hardly bring himself to take his eyes from her to watch his footing. Elizabeths face was pale and still. Darcy could hardly bring himself to contemplate what that might mean.

No, she could not be dead. His Elizabeth with her sparkling eyes, vibrant with life and playfulness, could not lie dead on the side of an indifferent cliff. Darcy could not contemplate a world that would allow such a thing to happen.

Finally, he reached the ledge where she lay. He dropped to his knees beside her, almost afraid to touch her.

Elizabeth, he said again. Her eyes remained closed. He braced himself and pressed a finger to her neck. If there was any flicker of life there, it was so faint he could not detect it. Darcy choked back a sob. He looked at the spencer she wore over her gown. Without hesitation, he ripped it open so only a thin layer of muslin lay between him and Elizabeths chest. He pressed his ear there, digging his fingers into the grass beside him as he muttered a prayer that he would find what he wanted to hear more than anything else in the world.

A steady beat resounded in his ears. Her chest rose and fell beneath him. The rush of relief was so intense, it almost crippled Darcy. He pressed his face against her as the emotions overcame him, pulling her to him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead without realising he was doing it as he gave thanks over and over again that his Elizabeth was alive.

I am so sorry, my love, he said. I have brought you nothing but pain, have I not?

Elizabeths eyes remained closed. Darcy removed his coat and wrapped it around her. He looked up at the slope he had just climbed with apprehension. It had been hard enough to climb down. How on earth was he to get back up there with Elizabeth in his arms?

Darcy gently lifted Elizabeth over his shoulder. He grasped the tufts of grass in the side of the slope, praying desperately that they were deep rooted enough to support them both. He paused at each step to satisfy himself that Elizabeth was not being harmed by his clumsy movements. All the while, he spoke to her continuously.

Nearly there, my love. You are safe now. Not too much further to go.

The top started to come into view. As Darcy braced himself against a rock, his foot suddenly slipped on slimy green moss. He instinctively loosened his hands to catch his fall and almost lost Elizabeth as he slid down several feet. He caught his balance again, and paused for a moment, his heart pounding with fright at the thought of almost losing her. He lay her on a narrow ledge for a moment to recover his strength. As he did so, he checked her over for injuries. He had not harmed her. She still only had the same cuts and bruises from the fall. Darcy held her on his lap and kissed her temple.