"Now, ladies, if you would be kind enough to look to your left, this is the very first glimpse we might have of Rosings."

Elizabeth and Mary obediently did as Colonel Fitzwilliam instructed, and were rewarded by the sight of an elegant looking house, nestled in the centre of expansive grounds. Absently, Lizzy wondered just how much work went into ensuring the lawns were such a healthy shade of green, and not a single plant appeared out of place. She smiled, ruefully, thinking of the home they had left behind them, whose gardens, though pleasant, wren nowhere near as manicured as Rosings appeared to be from this first glance.

"And how long has your aunt lived here, Mr Darcy?"

Elizabeth directed her question at their second gentleman companion, for she had not been oblivious to the fact that whilst Colonel Fitzwilliam happily conversed throughout their journey on points of interest to the ladies, pausing to alert them to particular sights and places he thought worthy of their notice, Mr Darcy had been largely silent. In fact, he had spent a great deal of the journey with his gaze averted from them, fixed on the moving scenery beyond the carriage window. Like a man en route to an execution, Lizzy had thought, with a suppressed grin. His looks reflect, almost exactly, what I should be feeling, were it not for Colonel Fitzwilliam's cheerful attempts at distraction. I know well why I feel so reluctant to be approaching Rosings: it is carefully contained in one single figure, who I have been blessed with two days' respite from. At Mr Collins' insistence on returning to Kent ahead of their party, Lizzy had drawn a sigh of relief, yet her contentment had been short-lived, for although accompanying Mary to Rosings meant escaping Mrs Bennet's wrath, it also meant being thrust once more into a circle with her cousin. Still, Lizzy was determined to survive the trial, and felt rather better equipped to refuse Mr Collins again, should he be stupid enough to propose despite knowing her abject loathing for him, with a few friends for support rather than her mother's interfering attentions. Still, now that she was faced with the knowledge they would reach their destination in just a few moments more, her courage began to falter. She kept her feelings under guard, but only just. What, then, was Mr Darcy's excuse for looking so unhappy to reach Kent?

"She has lived in Rosings all her married life," Mr Darcy said, shortly. "But the house was known to her since she was a child. I am sure she will delight in telling you of its history, Miss Elizabeth, if you wish to ask her."

There was something that might have been a glimmer of amusement in Darcy's eyes, but when Lizzy opened her moth to press him on it, the look vanished, and he was himself once more. Himself, and silent. Lizzy turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam, and noted a momentary look of frustration he turned towards his cousin.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, you are very kind to allow me to accompany my sister on this visit."

"Kind, nothing!" Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. "I knew Mary would want for a companion, and I rather fancy you will make an interesting addition to my aunt's dining table. What do you think, Darcy, will Miss Elizabeth hold her own against the tenacity of the de Bourgh inquisition?"

Elizabeth laughed, but felt a tiny pin-prick of anxiety at what lay before them. Mary's fears were still more apparent, and she appeared even paler than usual, until Lizzy pinched her on the arm. Mary looked up at her, and Lizzy smiled, silently willing her to relax. Never fear, Mary. I am sure she cannot be a patch on mother, and we both survived almost two decades in her house unscathed. She sighed. Relatively unscathed.

"Are you tired, Miss Elizabeth?"

It took Lizzy a moment to realise it was Mr Darcy and not his cousin who addressed her, and so her response came rather more flustered than she intended.

"Oh, no." She smiled. "Not really. It has been such a pleasant journey."

"If only the same could be said of the company!" Richard said, drolly. He nudged his cousin with his elbow, and turned back to Mary, intent on explaining some point of the local geography to her, as the carriage drew still nearer to Rosings.

"My cousin feels that silence must always be filled," Mr Darcy remarked, with a grimace. "He does not perceive any value in quiet, particularly in preparation for a trial."

"And what trial do you face?" Lizzy asked, taking his comment for humour, at first. When he did not return her smile, but frowned still more sternly, she reconsidered her supposition. "Forgive me, I did not realise you accompanied us under duress."

"Not duress," he clarified. "It is my duty to call on my aunt, a duty I have neglected more than I ought to have of late." He smiled, shortly. "My cousin seeks to rectify the matter, and as he wished to travel with a party, encouraged me to join you." His face was all seriousness once more. "I am, of course, glad to be of any service I can to your sister, on the occasion of their engagement. Or -" his voice dropped, so low that Elizabeth had to stoop a little nearer to catch his words. "Or to you, Miss Elizabeth. I hope - I hope you will not hesitate to come to me for assistance, should you - were you to ever require it."

Lizzy had the impression it had cost him a great deal to speak these few short words, and had read a fervency in their uttering that surprised her. Their eyes met, and she felt a flash of understanding. He refers to Mr Collins, I am sure of it! Lizzy flushed with embarrassment, heat seeping into her cheeks. Does he disapprove of me as well? She recalled the scolding she had received from Charlotte - her dear friend Charlotte! - who had so pointedly and pragmatically taken Mr Collins' part in the dilemma, and prompted Lizzy to accept his offer, for her family's sake if not for her own. Surely Mr Darcy was of a like mind, for she doubted he would ever begin to understand her feeling that one ought to marry for love, or at the very least friendship. It was mercenary to think only of money, of security, and whilst she did not think of herself as so practical a person, she could hardly imagine the same true for the gentleman seated across from her.

"You are very kind, Mr Darcy," she said, quietly. "But I cannot imagine myself in need of any assistance you might offer."