You can imagine his surprise when Darcy found he would not need to return to Netherfield to win over his darling Elizabeth. He hadn't been aware that she had gone to stay with her friend, Miss Lucas, or Mrs. Collins, now. Poor girl had married that rather annoying clergyman, Darcy remembered darkly. The same one who had proposed to his own dear Elizabeth not long before. He said a silent prayer of thanks that she had refused the odd little man and tried to hide his emotions as his aunt told him her opinions on the visitors.

Darcy rethought his former plan. It could be revised to start befriending her here, he decided and set to work figuring out the details immediately. He asked his aunt to invite the Collins' and their guests, which was unlike him. Usually, dining with just family suited him fine. Darcy wasn't sociable more then necessary.

"Something is not quite right with my nephew," Lady Catherine mused to herself in between barking orders and interrupting conversations.

To Darcy, it seemed like it was forever before the guests arrived and dinner began. But the second she arrived, he knew it was too late for him. He loved her. She hadn't said a word yet and already he was noticing the way she held herself so confidently, yet full of playfulness. An amused smile was on her lips and she mumbled things to Mrs. Collins as they came into Lady Catherine's home. Even a glance gave away trances of her personality and he loved her more for it. His feelings were seeping out of him and, half joking with himself, Darcy looked in a mirror quickly to see if he looked any different, if his feelings were portrayed on his face. But no. He had the same stoic expression as always. No fear of her learning yet.

Dinner was uneventful, but after dinner, Lady Catherine demanded that Elizabeth play the pianoforte for them all. Darcy was soon caught up in conversation, but out of the corner of his eye he saw his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam turning pages for Elizabeth. As soon as he could, he left the conversation and stumbled, feeling part mad, over to her. She looked at him for a moment, then proceeded to tell Fitzwilliam how he, Darcy, had acted to the country folk. Darcy could feel his face blush remembering how she'd looked to him then and how horrible he'd been to her, especially.

"Oh Colonel!" Lady Catherine was calling. Fitzwilliam said a quick goodbye and went to his aunt.

"I'm afraid I've never apologized for how I acted. I am deeply sorry for offending everyone so," Darcy offered, taking over the page turning for her. She looked up at him in surprise and missed a note by accident, quickly looking back at the sheet music to continue playing.

"I must admit I was not expecting that, Sir."

"Why not?"

"You have always seemed so indifferent and aloof to us below you."

He was shocked. "Below me?"

"Do you not consider us so?"

"Why should I?"

"Your actions say it daily. Your lack of caring for who we all really are speaks much louder than anything you could say." He was glad she was looking at the pianoforte and the music so she couldn't see him wince at her words.

"I'm afraid you have severely misjudged me, Miss Elizabeth. If that is how I have acted, it was not intentional."

"Then can you explain your actions, Mr. Darcy?" She glanced up at him with a gloat. It seemed like a challenge.

"I am content with my way of life. However, I am someone who is not entirely comfortable around people I don't know. It's not them. Not at all. I do not require more friends for the most part because I like the ones that I have already taken the time to acquire. So I don't try to be extroverted for that reason. Also, I'm more solitary until well-aquainted. It may seem like pride or disdain, but I can assure you it's not. Ask Bingley. Ask Fitzwilliam, if you must. I am terribly shy."

"Shy, are you?"

"Yes. Fitzwilliam and Bingley would not notice it. I've known them for years and they are like brothers to me. But large groups of people make me nervous. I don't know what to say. Especially at the first ball, when I was in a new environment and not sure what I could have in common with these people I'd never met before."

Elizabeth finished her piece and stood up. "You seem to be curing yourself of it, Sir, because that is the most I have ever heard you say in one conversation." She smiled at him for a moment. Then it faded. "Regretfully, Mr. Wickham has informed me of his misfortunes involving you. You know him. What excuse can you have to treat the poor man so terribly?"

Darcy resisted the urge to scoff at her foolish words. He instead coughed and took a step close to her to whipser. "Now, Miss, is not a good time to speak of what has transpired between George Wickham and myself. Someday, I hope you will know the truth. But tonight, I shall have to leave you wondering." And he returned to the group. Darcy would have loved to tell Elizabeth everything then and there, but conversations that lasted too long seemed to call to Lady Catherine to join in, especially private ones. He simply hoped he would get to see Elizabeth again under better circumstances.

Darcy had to admit he felt a little proud of himself for speaking more boldly then he had planned to do. Because of what Bingley had told him, he began to notice her looks of disdain towards him from time to time. However, he was not entirely unsatisfied, as it was a start that she was even looking at (or thinking about?) him. Darcy again dared to hope. Even if she was attached to Wickham, that could soon be remedied once she knew what kind of monster he was, what he had done to a dear sister. Surely Elizabeth would understand protecting Georgiana.

That night, Darcy went to sleep satisfied for the first time in a long time.