In Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Darcy says that hearing of the confrontation between Lady Catherine and Elizabeth led him to hope "as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before" that her feelings toward him had changed. In the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, Darcy becomes hopeful enough during Lizzie's stay at Pemberley Digital that he asks her on a date, despite presumably knowing that if she rejects him this time he cannot expect a third opportunity. What gives him the courage to ask her to the theater?
Alas, I do not own Pride and Prejudice or the Lizzie Bennet Diaries.
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Chapter One: Something Entirely New
There were, Darcy decided, certain advantages to loving a woman who ran a vlog. Most men, when trying to gauge a lady's feelings toward them, had to rely on whatever fleeting clues they could gather while with her. Or, if they were unable to think analytically while in her presence, they had to reflect while alone on indistinct memories of her words and manner, trusting that their confidence or modesty did not lead them astray.
Last October, he had been so self-absorbed that he'd never truly questioned the nature of Lizzie's feelings toward him, but now, as her stay at Pemberley Digital entered its fourth week, the subject dominated his thoughts. He'd observed her carefully and knew she no longer disliked him. She had invited him into her videos and grown more relaxed in his presence. She listened when he spoke, truly listened and responded to his words rather than merely looking for a reason to contradict him. He hadn't known until it happened how wonderful a change that would be.
Of couse, none of this necessarily meant that he had gone from "the last man in the world she could ever fall in love with" to a man she would consider dating. Hence his gratitude for her videos, for they offered another opportunity to observe their interactions and hopefully discover whether she would be receptive to him.
He arrived home late and exchanged his business suit for more comfortable clothes before settling into the den with his laptop. He'd already seen each of her Pemberley videos, except for the one she'd filmed and posted earlier that very day. In truth, that was the video he most wanted to see, for he'd left their interview feeling almost giddy from the smiles and laughter he'd provoked from her. As a man who liked things to be well-ordered, though, he decided to begin with the video in which he'd handed her his letter and watch in order each one in which he appeared.
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He didn't know what to expect as he approached her office. In his worst imaginings, she looked at him in disbelief and anger, tossed his letter in his face, and spat out, "What more do I have to say to get you out of my life?" He certainly didn't expect to find her filming again and, what's more, fretting about his reaction to her videos. There was some pride involved in his words to her, an instinctive desire to appear less than devastated by what had happened. More than anything, though, he brought up the subject of her videos and their effect on him in order to calm her fear that he would retaliate.
"I'm not going to sue you…It's fine. I don't care about that." Those were hardly conventional expressions of love, but as he relived the scene through her video he knew that was precisely what the words had been for him, though he hadn't thought of them in those terms at the time. She quieted in response to his reassurances but still eyed him warily as she accepted his letter.
Next came the video called "The Lizzie Trap." The title referred, of course, to Gigi's blatant manipulation to capture on camera their first meeting in two months, but it also seemed appropriate in a larger sense. Thanks to Fitz and her degree requirements, Lizzie had been trapped into coming to Pemberley, and the strain of the situation was clear in her voice from the start of the video and only intensified when Gigi shoved him into the room. Amazingly, she overcame this enough to attempt an apology for surprising him.
He was surprised, not by her presence but by the way she looked at him, wide-eyed and without a hint of aversion. He would have been content to simply sit with her, so near, and take in that expression, but her obvious discomfort reminded him of his responsibility to make her feel welcome at Pemberley. Their exchange was almost laughably commonplace, but beneath the surface swelled a current of something entirely new, of gentle eagerness on his part, and on hers—what? Even now, it was hard to put into words, but perhaps it could be described as a willingness to please and be pleased.
"The hills in this city can be quite unforgiving." It was the change in Lizzie's manner—particularly the way she responded to his offer of a ride to her dinner engagement, as if she declined because she didn't wish to trouble him rather than because of any dislike for his company—that decided him. He gathered his courage and repeated a sentence from her previous video, leaning in with a look meant to assure her that he understood and intended all that his words implied. She responded to his declaration with another refusal, polite this time but a refusal nonetheless. He carefully restrained his disappointment, knowing that although she rejected his offer she might still consider his words. He rose then to leave, only to be revived and confused by her gentle thanks and touch on his wrist.
His next appearance in her videos came, for the first time, at her request. He was puzzled at first by her suggestion that they do costume theater as themselves, for though they had seen each other a few times in the week since his return, he didn't think anything notable enough to deserve re-enactment had occurred.
"This isn't a conversation we would naturally have." It was immensely satisfying to show her that her costume theater idea was in no way stupid, that mass communications was a passion he understood and shared with her. He might never know whether his opinions on Tolstoy would impress her, but media theory was comfortable ground for him. He'd been familiar with Dr. Gardiner's work even before meeting Lizzie, and he'd re-read a few of her papers after learning she was Lizzie's mentor. Lizzie looked charmingly bewildered as he finished the thought she'd dismissed, a look he relished and decided he needed to cause more often.
There was no time like the present. He strode quickly toward his office, where he knew he would find a spare bowtie in his desk drawer and a newsie hat atop his coat rack. Anticipation coursed through him as he walked. He'd not asked her the nature of the scene she had in mind, for fear of appearing to distrust her. He little cared what type of hypothetical scene she would create for them but was intensely curious as to the lines she would give him to speak and what they would reveal of her current opinion of him.
He stepped back into her office and tried to contain his smugness at the shocked, pleased expression on her face as she took in his improvised costume. She took up his challenge, shrugged on her usual plaid shirt, and then proceeded to surprise him.
She didn't have a script. He'd watched her videos. She always had a script for costume theater, even for imaginary scenes, unless her scene partner had actually been present for the conversation they were portraying. Only two exceptions came to mind, one of them an early video in which Jane, acting as Lizzie, had been led to reveal her hopes for her new relationship with Bing. The other was in "Snickerdoodles," in which Lizzie had summarized Wickham's excuse for missing Bing's party and then allowed Jane to improvise as they re-enacted his call. That scene had turned into something completely different, as Jane revealed her pain and anger toward the man who had dumped her. He glanced at the camera uneasily, wondering what revelation Lizzie might seek from him in this "conversation they wouldn't naturally have."
Nevertheless, he agreed to continue, recovering enough to appreciate what she offered. She was giving him the freedom to speak for himself in her videos, to turn what had been a caricature into a more accurate image of the man he really was. Both his appreciation and his nervousness grew when she revealed the topic she'd chosen—his interference with Bing and Jane. This was a sticking point for her, even months after the fact, and no wonder, for she clearly adored her older sister. It was a topic they needed to discuss.
"If Bing truly felt a strong attachment, would he have been so easily parted from her?" This was, for him, the heart of the matter. He understood why she resented his role in drawing Bing away, but he could not understand why she was so fixed on reuniting him with her sister, who appeared to have moved on with her life. Bing was his best friend, and goodness knew he wished he had Bing's easy, caring manner in situations like the present, but the fact remained that it had taken him and Caroline less than a day to convince Bing to abandon Jane. A man who truly loved a woman would never give up so easily. He knew this to be true, for nothing less would have brought him to this moment, sitting beside Lizzie in his bowtie and newsie hat, trying desperately to show her that he was no longer the same man she had hated.
Her response hurt and rebuked him. He was, she implied, making the same mistake he'd made before. He'd interfered at first because he had presumed to understand the nature and depth of Jane's feelings toward his friend, and now he was presuming to understand the depth of Bing's feelings toward Jane. He looked away, forced to acknowledge Lizzie's point, but at the same time he wondered whether she even registered what he was trying to do.
"I think you should ask him." At some point, their words about Bing and Jane gained a more personal, intimate subtext. He wasn't sure at first whether she sensed it too, but then she turned and shyly asked whether he thought "Bing" still cared about "Jane." If she had asked him outright, he would have confessed the feelings that had only grown steadier and deeper with time, no matter how much the admission would cost him given her current doubtful state. But she asked him in subtext. He slowly removed his hat and indicated that she should ask only if she was ready to hear the truth.
She wasn't ready. Once the moment was broken, she couldn't see him leave quickly enough. He'd been hurt by this at the time, but it was clear from the video that she was rattled rather than displeased with him. That he could understand, for the conversation had unsettled him as well. Her next video showed she had given careful thought to his words, and she began it by renouncing all further meddling. It was hard to take any pleasure in her admission, not when Bing reappeared and asked after Jane with unmistakable longing in his voice, not while Lizzie's question—"isn't finding happiness hard enough?"—lingered in his mind.
The following Thursday was hectic with meetings, and when he finally emerged during a brief break, he was more than ready for some coffee. He entered the beverage area to find Lizzie there alone, fixing a cup of tea. She started at his greeting, looking at him with a dread that dismayed him and set his mind scattering to remember what he might have done to trouble her. They both spoke at once, he to hesitantly ask if she was all right, and she with "Youneedtowatchmyvideo."
He watched it then and there, leaning against the counter next to her. When Gigi entered the frame, looking purposeful yet nervous, he glanced at Lizzie, only to see her worried gaze dart from his face to her tea. He looked back at his phone, bracing himself for whatever was coming. He'd never heard the whole story from Gigi's perspective. As he listened, his anger at Wickham and at himself was overshadowed by his love for her, this young woman with whom he shared so much and yet who was so often incomprehensible to him. He would do anything in his power to prevent her being hurt like that again.
"I'm not going to kill you." Lizzie had hesitated at the end of the video when Gigi asked to confirm their weekend plans, unsure of his reaction when she posted their conversation. He pocketed his phone and looked up to find her still watching him. "Gigi can be very determined, I know. I just hope that talking to you, and your viewers, will…help her heal, somehow." Lizzie nodded and seemed about to say something when approaching voices announced the end of their privacy. He left then, explaining that he was due back in his meeting, but not before assuring her that he too looked forward to the weekend tour.