Hi! Hope you like this next chapter! Please read and review :) and a huge thanks to everyone who has already reviewed. Also, I wanted to respond to one of the guest reviewers, who thought that Darcy's actions with Lizzy were too rushed. In my opinion, Darcy isn't quite thinking rationally, as part of the Wickham incident. It is my personal take on how I think he might act, and the concerns about Lizzy being a fortune hunter are brought up later on in the story.
Lizzy wandered down into the breakfast hall, still in awe at the massive halls that were Pemberley. It was possible to get lost in a house so large, and Lizzy wondered how Georgie and Mr Darcy did not. Even she had to ask to be shown the way down. Realising the early time, she figured it would be empty, but upon entering, was greeted with the sight of Mr Darcy sipping at a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. Suddenly she felt awkward, not wanting to intrude on his privacy, so she began stepping back out of the room.
"Miss Bennet!" Darcy looked up, and saw his woodland nymph creeping out of the breakfast room, and had to call her back. "Miss Bennet, please, sit down." Lizzy glanced at him, and in his eyes, where she expected to see annoyance, all she saw was nervousness. What was he even nervous about? Lizzy could not comprehend this strange man, though his sister was easy enough.
"Sorry to have intruded, Mr Darcy. You may continue, I was just going to take a walk." He looked at her, willing her to sit with him for a while until they were joined by everyone else.
"Miss Bennet, will you at least have some tea and muffin? I cannot have you going hungry in my own house!" She giggled at the thought, as if she could ever grow hungry at this house; yesterday's dinner proved the opposite. She sat down opposite him, and began picking at a muffin, eating it the same way she always did. The buttery muffin reminded her of Longbourn, but the rich lemon taste was her reminder that Pemberley most certainly was not her home. She felt a pair of eyes on her, and decided to address them.
Darcy watched Elizabeth eating her muffin, having finished the newspaper and placed it to the side. She delicately broke off small chunks, and placed them into her mouth, slowly savouring each one. The image was almost enticing to Darcy, and he found he could not pull his gaze away from her. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and she raised her eyebrow questioningly, a smirk across her pink lips. And in that moment, it took all of Darcy's restraint to stop himself from proposing to her there and then. Instead, he raised his own eyebrow at her, before grabbing his own muffin and staring down at the table, hoping with all his hope that she couldn't see the blood that was now rushing to his cheeks and ears.
Elizabeth glared into her muffin, chiding herself internally. Was she... flirting? And with the Master of Pemberley, with £10,000 a year, at that? Her mother clearly was influencing her, despite what she had hoped. And what was worse, was he flirting back? She was entirely confused at their exchange; all he had done was raised his eyebrows at her, before taking and eating his own muffin. Was that even a response? Was he simply as confused as she felt? Oh, how she wished Lydia was here with her; for all of Lydia's faults, the one thing she could understand was men. Elizabeth almost laughed at her thought, no, she certainly did not want Lydia with her. Was Fitzwilliam Darcy the sort of man to trifle with others? From her aunt's brief account, he wasn't, but she would have to ask for more details.
Darcy looked at his muffin, occasionally stealing glances at Elizabeth, who's full concentration was now on her own muffin. Did he just try to flirt with her? He felt like Richard; after all the Fitzwilliam Darcy he knew would barely look at a women, never mind attempting conversation. He inwardly groaned, for now Miss Bennet would not even look at him. Now he needed his sister. Desperately, he needed his sister to come and remove some of the awkwardness between her brother and her friend.
As if hearing his plea for help, Georgie walked in to the sight of her favourite two people. If they added Richard to their happy party, Georgie would be happy with such company for the rest of her life.
"Morning Fitzwilliam, Lizzy!" She exclaimed, "Is it not a beautiful day today? Fitzwilliam, I will be showing Lizzy some of the paintings today after breakfast, should you care to join us? Unless of course, you have other plans?" His sister added, seemingly unsure of herself.
"Of course not Georgie, it would be my pleasure to accompany you and Miss Bennet. But what of Mr and Mrs Gardiner?" He enquiries, slightly confused by his sister's quick forgetting of their other guests.
"They may keep the company of aunt and uncle, no?" She asked him.
"And why might they be at Pemberley today?" Fitzwilliam asked his little sister, slightly confused.
"Oh Fitzwilliam, do stop being so dense! Do you not remember? You agreed to see to Mr and Mrs Gardiner's travel to Matlock today, to make the acquaintance of our Aunt and Uncle; our uncle has been asking to do business with Mr Gardiner for some time now." She reminded him. Elizabeth Bennet did not correct her.
So Fitzwilliam Darcy sprinted off down the corridor, shouting orders all around him for the carriage to be prepared, food baskets to be made ready, and mostly, for his cousin Richard to be brought back from Matlock. Mrs Reynolds watched her master with amusement; he was clearly more flustered than she had ever seen him. And of course, she knew well why he was. Having know the boy his entire life, to Mrs Reynolds, it was blatantly obvious that he was head-over-heels in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. But of course, he would never act on it directly; the Darcy men were ever so complicated in the ways of love. After all, Mrs Reynolds had heard that George Darcy had followed Anne Fitzwilliam three times around England before proposing to her. So Fitzwilliam Darcy was trying to make her relations more comfortable than he ever cared to make his own relations. Mrs Reynolds, despite never gossiping, did love to see what happened when her master, a man of action, wanted something. And finally, he wanted a wife. What fun this would be to watch.
Darcy watched as the carriage holding the Gardiners set off down the driveway, and breathed a sigh of relief. He had made sure of their utmost comfort and sent a stableman ahead of their carriage to inform the Matlock's of their imminent arrival. He had seen their food basket prepared, blankets and pillows stuffed into the carriage and even manage to send with them a letter convincing Richard to return with them to Pemberley. He dearly hoped they would not open it, however, although he knew they would not. He walked back into his house, making his way towards his study to check any letters that may be awaiting him, but he heard the sound of musical laughter coming from Georgie's music room, and decided instead to see what his little sister and Miss Bennet were doing.
He opened the door, and both ladies turned to look at him, before resuming their laughter yet again. He wanted to be annoyed, but could not find it in himself to be so, and instead asked,
"Is my face so amusing to the two of you that I cannot even have a proper greeting?" Georgie simply continued her laughter though Miss Elizabeth gave him a small curtesy. His little sister then held up a painting of a green horse, with "Painted by Fitzwilliam Darcy of 6 years" scribbled in the corner. He mentally face palmed; where did she even find that? And what was he thinking, painting a horse green? Even at six, he was sure he could tell the difference in colours. Then Georgie placed that down and picked up another picture, one of another horse, this time in blue, with a red person standing in front of it. The person was labelled "me" and the painting was yet again signed with his own name. He blushed, embarrassed that Elizabeth was seeing these awful paintings of his, though she was laughing at something he had done, so it was not all that bad, in truth. But Georgie, he supposed, did not deserve such outright satisfaction, so he picked up one of her own paintings, which featured a purple person that was apparently himself, and a red circle of paint which was apparently his dog, and thrust it in front of Elizabeth's face, who laughed. The sheer delight her laughter brought to Darcy should be illegal, he thought. How could she have such power over him.
"Is colourblindness a Darcy or Fitzwilliam trait, then?" She asked, teasing. He let out a chuckle, and wanting to elicit more laughter from her, responded in turn,
"Neither, Miss Bennet. I am afraid it is a childish trait, as it is one that Georgie and I have both now outgrown."
"Oh, that is a shame. I thought it made for some rather amusing pictures, though not very like to their subjects." She commented lightly. He and Georgie both laughed at her words, and he said, "Well I cannot help but be glad that I am not purple in the flesh, as I fear that would attract even more attention than the title of 'King of England'!" They all laughed, before carefully sorting through all of Georgiana's painting, occasionally making comments.
Darcy had never enjoyed himself more that he currently was. Elizabeth and Georgie's pure enjoyment whilst spending time with him was something he could definitely live with for the rest of his life. It had been years since such open laughter had filled the halls of Pemberley; it was his home, but it felt so much more homely with Elizabeth's easy conversation and pleasing laughter. Yes, he certainly loved her. But, did she love him? Whilst she was obviously not Wickham, Darcy would not marry her if she didn't love him. But neither would he let her not marry him. So as they sat down in the informal parlour for scones and tea, he vowed make her love him if it was the last thing he ever did.