Page 9 of Until My Last Breath

Elizabeth noticed his stare again and tightened her lips. “There is a small brook just behind those trees, I will not be long,” she said, running away before he had the chance to answer. “Thank you,” she shouted fromafar.

Darcy grinned, forcing his eyes to turn from her running figure to examine her painting more carefully. He was not an expert, but he thought her work was very good. He looked around, and then back to the painting. She had captured the real colours of that beautiful meadow with a surprising accuracy. The explosion of colours on her canvas was just like her. The position of the sun was also—

A high-pitched scream reached his ears.

A rush of blood ran through Darcy’s veins, and forgetting her painting, he ran to where the sound came from.

“Elizabeth!” Darcy shouted after passing the first line of trees. He felt ridiculous worrying so much about her just because of a scream. But he could not help himself. “Elizabeth! Where are you?”

“Mr Darcy! Over here…”

Darcy followed her weak voice, his concern mounting. Why was her voice weak?

He caught sight of her pink form beside the brook and ran towards her, halting at the sight before him.

~ ♥ ~

When Elizabeth decided to fetch some water, she did not expect the softness of the ground around the brook would be the cause of an enormous humiliation. She had done this before on previous occasions, but in none of them had she been daydreaming about Mr Darcy. While fetching the water, she had stepped into the mud and continued there until her feet were so deep that, in her careless attempt to free herself, she had lost her balance, falling on the muddy edge, sinking her posterior deeper into the mud with a very unladylike shriek.

Soon after, a familiar voice reached her ears, and she rolled her eyes.Mr Darcy. If someone was supposed to see her in such a state, it had to be him.

Hearing his anxious calling, she blushed once more, her cheeks burning like two ripe apples in the oven. “Mr Darcy, over here,” she called back without much conviction, lowering her head, almost hoping he would not hear her.

Why did she have to scream? Why not just fall in silence?

She tightened her fists feeling the soft mud squeezing through her fingers as the growing sound of his boots against the ground became louder and louder.

Then it stopped.

Elizabeth slowly raised her eyes.

There, in front of her, a panting Mr Darcy with hands on his knees, stood staring at her.

Sticking up her chin, she glared at him, challenging him to make a clever comment.

To his credit, he did not. But by the way he was pressing his lips together, it would be just a matter of time.

“Miss Elizabeth, are you well? What happened?”

“I fell,” she said, moving some hair hanging in front of her eyes to behind her ear, leaving a trail of mud across her forehead.

Darcy’s gentlemanlike manners were thus short lived; he pressed his lips together again, but to no avail. A strange, snorting noise escaped his nose, followed by a loud laugh as his head went backwards.

Her jaw fell and she huffed, furious. How could a gentleman behave so shamefully?

As if hearing her thoughts, Darcy brought both hands to his face and pressed his eyes, inhaling deeply a couple of times. “I am very, very sorry, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, making a phenomenal effort to stop his laugher. “Here.” Darcy removed his glove and stretched his arm. “Take my hand and let me help you.”

She lowered her eyes from his amused face to his bare hand, and stubbornly shook her head. “No, sir. I am not sure you will be able to pull me out. I am quite stuck here—”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted, now just smiling. “I am much strongerthan you. Here, please, take my hand.”

Elizabeth bit her lower lip. It was not as if she had any other choice. She sighed, awkwardly standing up and wiping her hand on her already ruined dress.

Darcy took her hand firmly and pulled.

On his third attempt, she made a strange noise, and he raised his gaze to her face. She was laughing. He smiled at her amusement, and the unimaginable happened. One of his feet slipped behind him. He lost his balance and wobbled. Elizabeth screamed again as he finally tumbled, hauling her with him into the mud with a loudsplosh.

Good Lord!

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