Mr. Kelly, as a father and former friend, remained troubled. "But you, a young widow, living in the same house a young gentleman…"
"Young?" repeated Charlotte in amusement. "Mr. Kelly," she continued, her gray eyes filling with mirth easily given their recent episode with Mrs. Darcy, "I have passed four decades. Perhaps it would be a stretch to say I could be his mother, but I would certainly never consider being his wife!" she whispered defiantly. "Nor he my husband. A ridiculous notion based on the fact that you know none of the particulars."
"You changed your tea habit in favor of his coffee," Mr. Kelly pursued, leaning forward slightly.
"Did you find me to be close-minded as a child or is it a character trait I should have attained in adulthood?" she retaliated, also leaning forward.
They stared each other down for a moment before Darcy and Elizabeth uttered sounds indicative of having caught the pair at shenanigans. Mr. Kelly and Mrs. Collins both sat rigidly upright and returned to the civilized activities of breakfast.
The following morning, Charlotte made a decided effort to avoid the inhabitants of the house. She broke her fast in her room, deeming an egg and toast with coffee little trouble for the redoubtable Molly.
Though a chilly, autumnal wind blew and the clouds gathered, she insisted upon her usual mid-morning walk, graciously accepting the fur-lined cloak procured by Molly for her use during the visit to Pemberley. A fur muffler was also offered, but all the efforts of poor Molly were required to convince Mrs. Collins to accept it for such a paltry expedition. Not wishing to acquire a walking partner any more than to earn the remonstrances of well-meaning friends, Charlotte dressed herself fully for the out-of-doors and asked Molly to clear her way to the door.
The mission was successful in part, as Charlotte was able to slip from the house without detection by the butler, the housekeeper, or any Darcy, but one member of the household happened to glance from the window just as she passed by. The observer withdrew a timepiece and marked the time.
She made good her escape and savored the silence and lack of expectation to the full, for she was used to much longer periods of solitude at the parsonage in Hunsford than what she was afforded in the lively house of Pemberley.
The cold wind was sharp, but the cloak kept her incredibly warm. Charlotte allowed her mind to wander into the imaginary realm of life in which she might acquire such a cloak; however, she was soon happily diverted by the appearance of a doe with her fawn. The spots were beginning to fade, and she was struck by the thought of nature’s expectations in the art of independence.
God made creatures to mature at such a faster rate than humans, yet man was assigned the task of caring for nature, she thought. Man had been created in the image of God. In short, one could assume that attaining such a sacred role required many more years than just the acquisition of the ability to survive. It was a humbling realization and one worth a few more minutes of reflection.
Charlotte's mind wandered pleasantly as did her steps until a second drop of rain fell cold upon her cheek. Though she had, indeed, wandered hither thither around the path, she had kept to her general plan - the direction that led to the gazebo overlooking the pond. Her mind instantly cleared of its musings and set a course to the gazebo, attaining the shelter just in time for the clouds to relieve themselves of their burden. The rain was not rendered vicious by assaulting winds or drastic changes in temperature, so Charlotte, contented to wait it out, snuggled deeper into her borrowed cloak and muff.
Mr. Kelly, her accidental observer, grew restless. He noted the gathering clouds, the pattering of the raindrops, and the absence of Charlotte's return as he paced by the windows of the library. At long last, he began to question the staff but found nothing of use in their reports.
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, along with his daughter, knew only of her absence but nothing of her direction, so he gathered a blanket and a coachman's driving coat and set his steps to follow the direction she had been facing when he had seen her last.
Kate had previously mentioned Mrs. Collins's enjoyment of the pond, so Mr. Kelly maintained the course to the favored spot. A wave of relief, accompanied quickly by a deal of frustration, washed over him when he made out a lady's form standing resolutely in the middle of a gazebo placed at a scenic location near the pond. Taking a deep, calming breath, he moved forward.
Quickly overtaking the structure, he realized the lady was by no means under duress or in any danger, but, in fact, seemed to be enjoying a time of quiet meditation. Her eyes were closed, and she stood perfectly still, a small smile of contentment resting on her relaxed features. Mr. Kelly was immediately unnerved and found himself reluctant to break her reverie. Still, she must be chilled to the bone by now, he thought.
He cleared his throat.
Charlotte took a deep breath and opened her eyes. It took a moment to focus, but she was by no means disappointed, nor was she elated, to find a companion within the protective sphere of the gazebo.
"Mr. Kelly," she greeted kindly, "have you also been caught by the storm?"
"It seems an odd thing to be taken unaware by a leaden sky, does it not?" he prevaricated gruffly, removing his hat to shake the water from the brim. Charlotte now sensed that he was displeased with her rather than with the storm, and her confusion mounted as she noted the color rising in the gentleman's lean cheeks.
"Will you not come further into the shelter?" Charlotte asked hesitantly. Smiling a little, she added, "I believe that propriety would understand a gentleman's need for sanctuary under these circumstances, albeit a sanctuary already inhabited by a widow." Her words did much to restore his equilibrium and good humor, and he chuckled at their predicament.
"I do not suppose you should be in need of a dry blanket or greatcoat?" he inquired, withdrawing the articles stealthily from beneath his arm. His grin deepened as Charlotte wondrously reached out, her jumbled thoughts clearly writ in the furrows of her brow. Having been stowed so near to his body and beneath his own coat, the items emanated his heat, causing Charlotte to hastily withdraw her hand and take an involuntary step back.
Finding the need to fill the void of silence, Charlotte blurted out whichever thought first found her tongue. "Were you meeting someone?"
Horrified by her own impertinence, her eyes rounded as a flush crept up her neck. "I beg your pardon. It is none of my business. I had not meant to ask that, but rather, perhaps you are looking for someone? Kate? Miss Kelly? Has she been caught by the storm?"
Mr. Kelly smiled gently, and Charlotte stilled.
"You came for me."
Mr. Kelly nodded, his twinkling eyes willing Charlotte's to share his enjoyment, but she was determined to bear only guilt.
"It seems that I was the only one to witness your escape from the house and, possibly, the only one to know of your intention to walk today in spite of the obvious deterrents."
"Molly, the maid who has been assigned to me, knew of my plans."
"And," Mr. Kelly supplied, "if you had mentioned it to the others, you would have had the great pleasure of company on your solitary excursion."
She looked away. Her eyes focused now beyond the gazebo and led her steps to its edge.
"I believe the rain is abating," she said hopefully, extending her hand for a collection of droplets. "This may be our best chance of escape."