Copyright 2021 Elizabeth Frerichs

Darcy shifted restlessly, unable to settle despite the need for silence. He and Bingley were concealed behind some trees awaiting the militia's capture of a deserter, their horses tethered sufficiently back in the forest that no noise would reach the road.

Yesterday, Wickham had argued that Darcy ought to hand over the money without presenting Georgiana's letters, and had proclaimed that he had hidden the letters and would only provide instructions on how to retrieve them once Darcy equipped him with funds.

Darcy had told him that he possessed the necessary funds, but would not relinquish them until Wickham showed him at least one of the letters. Wickham had then hemmed and hawed about how he could not retrieve them now. Eventually, they had been left at an impasse, and Wickham had agreed to table the matter. Darcy had been struck by how much Wickham relied on his ability to convince. Take away his silver tongue and he would be nearly helpless. Perhaps military justice would succeed where others had failed—the rules would only bend so far, and Colonel Forster had heard the truth with his own ears.

In fact, Colonel Forster himself had informed Darcy and Bingley that he had set Wickham some trifling duty in the camp; Wickham would have no excuse for leaving Meryton. Certainly none for getting on a coach to London. As they intended to stop the mail coach after it had been driving for several miles, Darcy and Bingley were crouched in the trees some five miles down the London road. Others were likewise concealed.

The coach rounded a bend in the road. Officers rode up behind it like avenging angels and commanded the driver to halt. The driver, either unwilling to risk himself by refusing or unaware that stopping would result in Wickham's capture, pulled to a halt.

Wickham exited the coach and began to speak, his mien entirely apologetic. Finally, he hung his head and was taken away with the men who had come to capture him. The whole thing was accomplished easily, leaving Darcy vaguely dissatisfied. He had not expected Wickham to fight with anything but his tongue—why fight a superior force or run away from men on horses? But did the ease of his capture presage an equally easy release for Wickham? He might even barter for his freedom in exchange for Georgiana's letters. Or, since such letters did not exist, Wickham would more likely try to blackmail Darcy into bringing his influence to bear.

Every part of his body commanded Darcy to act, but in this case, inaction was the best way to protect his beloved sister and perhaps even the Bennets.

Bingley clapped a hand on Darcy's shoulder. "I feel the need for a good ride to work the fidgets out. That went more easily than I expected. Not that I would have relished a good turn up," he added quickly. "Well, perhaps a small one. It would have been nice to see Wickham bleed, considering what he tried to do to Miss Lydia."

That was it precisely, Darcy realised. He would have liked to see Wickham suffer a bit before being beyond their reach.

Bingley huffed. "I still cannot believe the man is such a snake in the grass—telling Miss Lydia that she was at fault for not being willing to elope!"

"Wickham has never lacked audacity," Darcy said, his gaze still fixed on the road where the group of riders was even now disappearing around the bend. "I do not doubt that he is even now telling his fellow officers that the whole thing is just a giant misunderstanding."

"But they caught him in the act of deserting!" Bingley protested.

Darcy shrugged. "I doubt that will make a difference. We can only hope that Colonel Forster's eyewitness experience will prevent him from being lenient."

"Surely they will not just let him go!"

"We shall see." He turned to Bingley. "Wickham will attempt to convince me to intercede on his behalf—"

Bingley frowned, confusion covering his features. "But he just tried to blackmail you yesterday."

"That will not matter to him. Out of the love I bear my father, I have always bailed him out of scrapes, so he will try. This time, however, I do not intend to see him at all." His jaw tightened. He would not continue in the mistakes of the past. "When I do not come to him, he will message you, but if you speak to him, he will likely twist it around that I am acting through you or some such nonsense."

Bingley nodded. "I have no desire to speak to that cad."

"Thank you, Bingley. You are a good friend indeed."

"Think nothing of it!" Bingley gave him a sunny smile. "Now, I say we ought to check in on Miss Lydia today and inform Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth of Wickham's capture. What do you think?"

"I believe that is a wise plan. Miss Bennet will likely be glad to see you."

"As Miss Elizabeth will be glad to see you," Bingley said slyly.

Darcy glared at his friend.

Bingley chuckled. "I have seen the way you look at her."

"She is—" Darcy searched for a word that would do Elizabeth justice without proclaiming the hold she held upon him. "—unique, is she not?" The word was but a pale shadow of Elizabeth's vibrancy.

"Yes, she is. She would have to be to hold your interest. I do not know how many women I have seen throw themselves at you over the past few years."

"But not Miss Elizabeth."

"No, not Miss Elizabeth. Both she and Miss Bennet are most genteel. Will you pursue her?"

"I do not believe you would like me to pursue Miss Bennet," Darcy said dryly.

Bingley snorted. "Somehow I cannot see you enjoying that pursuit, but yes, you are right; I will fight you for Miss Bennet if it becomes necessary."

"Given her behaviour since we returned, I do not believe I would win that fight anyway."

"She has been very friendly, has she not?" Bingley smiled. "When I left last fall, I was uncertain whether she cared for me. Now, I feel there is a glimmer of hope."

"You would be an excellent catch for the Bennets, Bingley. No one would gainsay you were you to pursue Miss Bennet."

Bingley looked down. "My wealth may make me acceptable, but she is a gentlewoman—"

"With connections in trade."

Bingley remained silent for a moment before asking, "Do you believe she is sincere?"

Darcy considered his conversations with Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth and even the changes he had seen in their family with the departure of Mr. Bennet. "I do not believe she is a fortune-hunter, if that is your concern."

"That is part of it," he told the ground. "Caroline believes Miss Bennet never held me in affection and that her mother would force her to marry me due to my wealth and Longbourn's entail. I do not wish to be—to be accepted for my wealth. I wish to marry someone who desires to marry me, despite my faults."

"I understand." Darcy hesitated. "I told you that Miss Elizabeth rejected me, did I not?"

Bingley's head shot up. "You proposed?"

"When she returned the Letter, I accused her of trying to trap me and she said that I was the last man in the world she would ever wish to marry."

"Oh. You told me, but I had not—I was so focused on the Letter—I did not think—"

Darcy held up a hand. "I merely remind you to point out that I do not think Miss Bennet will accept anyone based on wealth alone. I believe she is almost as principled as Miss Elizabeth, and if she does not like you for your character, I do not believe she will accept."

"Do you think she would want to marry me?"

"From my observations, yes. But you are better placed to answer that question than I."

Dead leaves rustled beneath Bingley as he shifted uneasily. "Will you support me if I do marry her?" he finally asked.

"I do not have a say in whom you marry."

"Darcy! I am not asking for your approval. I am asking if you will stand by me even though Caroline will be—" He shuddered. "Nearly impossible to live with. At least she can stay with Hurst."

"Miss Bingley will just have to accept that you will not be her stepping stone to entering the ton."

Bingley scoffed. "I doubt Caroline will ever accept that." He studied Darcy speculatively. "You know, if you married Miss Elizabeth, Caroline would stop trying to leg-shackle you and she might almost approve of my marriage to Miss Bennet. It would, after all, make us brothers."

Darcy could feel a headache coming on. His thoughts had never been far from the problem of Miss Elizabeth since Fitzwilliam's letter—really, she had managed to preoccupy most of his mind since practically the moment they had met, but now he could not stop going over and over his reasons for not pursuing her. Was he merely trying to prove himself worthy of being a Darcy, as Fitzwilliam had said?

Yes, his mother and father would want happiness for him and Georgiana, but they likely would have preferred him to find his happiness with someone from the ton. His eyes drifted to the sky; if they were here right now, what would they say about Elizabeth?

His mother would probably find her to be a kindred spirit. His father would not be thrilled with him marrying so far beneath their sphere . . . . Then again, his parents had married for love. Both could have made better matches, but they had chosen each other. They had valued character over position for their future partners; perhaps they would have approved of him doing so as well.

"Darcy! Are you well?"

Darcy returned his attention to his friend.

"You looked a hundred miles away. I am sorry—my cursed tongue—I should not have said anything."

Darcy forced a faint smile onto his lips. "It is all right, Bingley. But you have forgotten one key fact: even if I were to pursue her, Miss Elizabeth has already made her opinion plain."

"I am certain you could change her mind if you tried," Bingley said earnestly. "After all, she was reacting to your accusation that she had given you the Letter to ensnare you. I do not believe you should consider her reaction as her true opinion on the matter. You were adversarial last year, but now—"

"We were adversarial last year?" Darcy asked. He had thought his interest plain, but if even his closest friend had not seen it, how could he have expected Miss Elizabeth to do so? And if she had not, what had been the substance of their relationship?

Bingley looked apologetic. "You always seemed so critical of her, and the two of you often verbally sparred."

"I see."

And here was yet another instance of his pride getting in the way. Too convinced of Miss Elizabeth's lower status, he had concealed his feelings so well that he had entirely failed to signal his interest. Did she even realise his interest in her now? He thought back over their interactions. They had been friendly; perhaps a bit more forthright than would have been proper had it not been for the circumstances . . . but he could have had almost the same conversations with Bingley or Georgiana. His heart sank. No wonder Miss Elizabeth had been so blindsided by his accusation of entrapment—she truly had had no idea that he was interested in her.

"But you can change that," Bingley hurried to add. "I believe she has already begun to see you in a friendlier light this year."

"I still have not—" Darcy took a deep breath, almost aghast at himself for considering sharing something so personal. He cleared his throat. "I have not yet decided whether to pursue her."

"Because she is not of equal status?"

Darcy nodded.

"I suppose it is up to you, but I would rather see you marry someone who makes you smile as much as you have done the past few days than someone who possesses equal status. Not to mention that, given her experiences in running Longbourn, Miss Elizabeth will be able to both understand your concerns as a landowner and assist you." He hesitated. "Will not Lady Matlock support you anyway? I believe she would be able to ensure Miss Elizabeth's acceptance into the ton."

"Perhaps."

"Besides, few of the ladies of the ton will be overjoyed when you marry—regardless of your bride."

Darcy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Think of how Caroline will react—with bitter disappointment. You have been the catch of the season for almost every season since your father died. Only your wife's family will be glad you are marrying; the rest of the young ladies (and their families) will be furious that you did not choose them."

Darcy sighed. Bingley was right; the ton had been relentless in their pursuit of his money and connections. Ridiculous as it was, many would mourn the loss of opportunity once he married. "And if they dislike my wife because she is an outsider?"

Bingley shrugged. "Even if they do, I doubt Miss Elizabeth will be much distressed if she does not obtain their approval."

A country girl would likely be more content with Pemberley and Derbyshire society than one of the ton's darlings . . . .

"Besides, you are the last person to repine if you receive fewer invitations to balls," Bingley said with a laugh.

"True."

"Are you sure her connections to trade are what is causing your hesitation?" Bingley asked.

"Her connections to trade, her pennilessness, her family . . . there is plenty to hesitate over," Darcy admitted. Though her sisters were less objectionable than they had seemed last autumn.

"But not the Letter?"

Darcy tapped his finger against his leg, thinking once more of the Letter. "No. The facts do not support her trying to entangle me into a forced marriage, but it is more than that . . . I cannot explain why I believe her to be innocent."

"A feeling. I have it too. The Bennets just seem innocent, no matter how hard I try to be suspicious."

Darcy nodded. It was a feeling—when hearing her story of finding the Letter, it had rung true, despite how unlikely it was. And the feeling had only intensified the more time he had spent with her.

After a few moments of silence, Bingley suggested they return to their horses and from there to Longbourn, and Darcy agreed.

"Perhaps this experience will change Miss Lydia," Bingley said thoughtfully as they walked.

Darcy glanced at his friend. "How so?"

"You are concerned about Miss Elizabeth's family. If you are like me, you are least looking forward to being related to Miss Lydia and Mrs. Bennet. Perhaps even Mr. Bennet. I was concerned about Miss Kitty and Miss Mary, but the conversations I have had with them of late have been quite congenial."

"I have not spent any time with them, but their manner has seemed altered this year."

Bingley fidgeted. "I have been trying to see if—if I wish to marry Miss Bennet. I thought I did and then the past few months have caused me to reevaluate, and I am trying to consider carefully instead of rushing into the matter," he confessed.

Darcy had never heard his friend speak with such forethought. With Bingley, so often to think was to do. "That sounds very wise."

"Thank you." He took a deep breath. "If I have to go against my sisters in order to marry Miss Bennet, I ought to be sure of both my feelings and hers and that marrying her will not result in later misery once the first bloom of new love has worn off."

"I agree."

Bingley cast him a sideways glance. "And if you are worried about Miss Lydia, and Miss Elizabeth's parents, perhaps the reminder that Miss Lydia is young will do as much good for you as it has done for me. She has time to grow. Besides, my sister is just as difficult to be around as Miss Bennet's relatives. I cannot hold Miss Bennet at fault for having the same issues that I do. Nor can I hold her at fault for behaviour that is not hers."

"You cannot deny that marrying into the Bennets, choosing to be related to people who will embarrass at almost every turn, is different than being born into a family."

"No. But—I am not—" He huffed. "We all have relations who embarrass us at one time or another. I would rather have Miss Bennet in my life on a daily basis and suffer the potential embarrassment of being related to her family than not marry her. She is kind and good, as lovely on the inside as she is on the outside. I would be a fool to let fear of some imagined future cause me to reject having her in my life. Besides, there is no guarantee that her family will continue acting the way they have been. Mrs. Bennet is . . . determined for her daughters to marry well; she loves them and does not wish them to be penniless after their father's death. That is a virtue, despite how poorly she expresses it."

"I would not have considered that a virtue."

"Miss Bennet has confided that her mother is afraid of living in the hedgerows, and—"

Darcy came to a halt. "In the hedgerows? Why the devil would anyone live in the hedgerows?"

"I think she just means being destitute and homeless," Bingley said.

He had recognised the reasonableness of Mrs. Bennet's desperation over the past few weeks, but he had not considered that her behaviour might subside once she had secured her daughters' futures.

Perhaps the obstacles were fewer than he had realised. "And if she does not have to worry about those things, she may behave in a different manner."

Bingley nodded. "Just—think about it," he said and mounted his horse.

Darcy mounted Caesar. "I will," he promised. He doubted he would be able to do anything but think about it.

Rubbing a hand across her face, Elizabeth decided it was time for a break from looking over the business of Longbourn. She could hardly keep her mind on it anyway. Sometime this morning, Mr. Wickham would likely be apprehended for deserting—if he still deserted. After watching Lydia's heartbreak the past many hours, she hoped they sent him to one of the prison hulks.

Yesterday had been entirely taken up with comforting Lydia. Her sister had wailed and raged and sobbed. A hundred times she had convinced herself that she ought to go to the crossroads today to prove her affection for "her George"—that she was the one at fault. Each time, one of her sisters had dissuaded her from going.

Lydia had blamed herself and Mr. Wickham and even Elizabeth for spreading the truth about the living and Mr. Darcy for destroying Mr. Wickham's life. It had been exhausting.

In the end though, Lydia seemed to have accepted that Mr. Wickham had never loved her, had only enjoyed his time with her and then had seen an opportunity for revenge upon the person he blamed for his situation in Meryton. She admitted that Mr. Wickham had been kind, but not attentive, until she had proclaimed that she did not agree with Lizzy and would not be spreading the rumours her sister had begun.

With dry, swollen eyes, Lydia had apologised to Elizabeth in a subdued tone and would only accept comfort from Jane, requesting that the rest of them leave her alone . . . which left Elizabeth going over numbers she had already calculated. They would barely have enough to cover the crop rotation, complete drainage on the first field on her list, and keep a little in reserves for whatever might arise. There would be no extra spending, no frills for several months, but after that, if they continued to reinvest in the land, she could see her way to saving sufficient amounts to assist them after Papa died.

Her thoughts shied away from him as they always did as of late. Her father was still gone, and the wound remained almost as painful as the day it had occurred. Even this latest difficulty with Lydia and Mr. Wickham had made her long for his presence while simultaneously reminding her of his shortcomings—she could not see him setting up the trap for Mr. Wickham (or even accepting Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley's assistance in the first place). No, he would likely have found the whole thing entertaining beyond anything and only barely kept Lydia from eloping, even though she would forever afterwards have resented him and become even more wild as a consequence.

Resolutely, Elizabeth stacked her ledgers and reference books. Even if all she did was pace the back garden, she had to do something or she would go mad.

Betsey's knock sounded at the door and Elizabeth called for her to enter.

"Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley are here, but your mother is still out."

"That is all right; my sisters and I will visit with them." She hesitated, wondering if it would be wise for Lydia to hear the result of today's adventure with Mr. Wickham. "Have you already informed Jane?"

"Yes, mum. Miss Bennet was in Miss Lydia's room, and Miss Lydia told her to go on down, but that she still has a headache." The barest hint of distaste flickered across Betsey's face. "Miss Mary and Miss Kitty have not yet returned from visiting the tenants."

"Oh yes, they were going to take more broth to the Hallens. I will be down in a minute."

Betsey curtseyed and left. Once more, Elizabeth was grateful for their servants' loyalty; Lydia had been unwise in much of her yelling, and only the fact that their mother had spent yesterday morning and today visiting had prevented her from learning the truth. Elizabeth was nearly certain they had convinced Lydia of the necessity of secrecy, particularly from Mrs. Bennet, if she wanted to stay eligible for any rich young men. They might hear of a botched elopement and miss the fact that Lydia herself had refused said elopement.

Elizabeth tidied herself and hurried down the stairs. Jane was waiting on the landing and together they made their way to the sitting room. Gratitude swelled in her breast as she laid eyes upon the two gentlemen waiting there. They had had no obligation to assist and yet they had gladly done so. No recriminations towards Lydia had been spoken yesterday, nor had the gentlemen seemed disgusted by her behaviour—something she would never have expected of Mr. Darcy mere months earlier. Indeed, if anyone had told her then that she would confide in him about something so personal and expect him to assist, she would have thought that person touched in the head.

Both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy smiled upon entering and greeted them.

Elizabeth and Jane returned the greeting.

"Was your hunt this morning successful?" Jane asked once they were all seated.

Mr. Bingley nodded. "We secured our quarry."

"He shall do his best to escape, but I do not believe he will succeed," Mr. Darcy added.

"He will no longer have someone to extricate him," Elizabeth said, "so I do not doubt that escaping his trap will be much more difficult than he anticipates."

"How is Miss Lydia today?" Mr. Bingley asked with sincere concern.

"Not very well, I am afraid," Jane said sorrowfully. "I believe she has finally accepted the truth of the matter, but her feelings suffer cruelly."

Mr. Bingley's expression darkened. "It is no wonder considering what that—man said to her yesterday." He softened. "Please give her our best."

"I will."

"And what of you; how have you been?" Mr. Darcy asked, watching Elizabeth closely. "Dealing with your sister's heartbreak cannot be easy."

He would know, having walked his sister through nearly the same situation only months prior. Again, Elizabeth marvelled at his self-control in not clobbering Mr. Wickham the moment he had encountered the man afterwards.

"I thank you for your concern," Elizabeth said. "It has been—difficult to see her suffer." Difficult and painful and frustrating. She'd found herself alternating between wishing to cuddle Lydia and throttle her for her foolishness. Lydia had listened to Mr. Wickham, had pursued him, had met him and written to him, despite Elizabeth's comments about the man, despite telling her of Mrs. Hatcher's words. Elizabeth only hoped that this lesson, painful as it was, got through to Lydia and protected her from repeating the mistake in the future.

"I am sorry you have had to do so," Mr. Darcy said, holding her gaze.

"Indeed!" Mr. Bingley agreed heartily. "Miss Lydia is lucky that you are such a devoted sister."

Elizabeth gave him a small smile. "Jane has been far more employed in comforting Lydia than I."

"And are you well, Miss Bennet?"

As Bingley continued interrogating Miss Bennet about her well-being given the strain of the past few days, Darcy could not take his eyes off of Elizabeth. He had no doubt that she had spent considerable time comforting Miss Lydia also and only hoped that it had not been as difficult a task as comforting Georgiana had proved. Though he was not enthused by Miss Lydia's boisterous manners, he would hate to see her wilt entirely the way Georgiana had.

Faint circles marred the skin under Elizabeth's eyes, and he noted tension in her shoulders. Was she merely anxious about her sister or about Wickham's capture or perhaps about the improvements she was enacting at Longbourn?

He wished there were something he could do to lighten her burden. Hopefully, Wickham's apprehension would alleviate some of her worries. He could not help her with Miss Lydia, but perhaps he could ease the process of the drainage improvements. She had intended to install the system before the spring floods . . . .

In an instant, he had a vision of her at Pemberley, assisting him with the Darcy estate. His heart leapt. Elizabeth would be a true ally, not one of those fainting ton beauties who would leave him to run things and enjoy the fruits of his labour without ever entering into his concerns. Yearning swelled within him. She would be everything he had long wished for in a wife.

Resolve filled his soul; he would court her. She had declared him the last man in the world she would ever marry, but surely he could change her mind? Like the knights of old, he would sweep her off her feet.

But how?

He had never courted a woman—they had always thrown themselves at him given the slightest hint that he was interested in them. He had learned not to even meet a woman's gaze lest she construe it as interest.

Nor would the usual ton strategies of flirtation suffice for Miss Elizabeth. She had not realised his interest before; he would have to be more obvious, pay her even more attention.

"Right, Darcy?" Bingley put in.

Darcy suppressed a start. "Pardon?"

"I said that we would be glad to assist in any way we can."

"Of course." He returned his attention to Elizabeth. "I was thinking that perhaps we might observe your drainage project. You are more than capable of implementing it, but Bingley would benefit from seeing your methods as his land possesses some of the same problems."

"Oh, yes, of course," Elizabeth said blankly.

"If it is too much trouble—of course we would not wish to impose," Darcy said.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, no, not at all."

Bingley nodded. "I would truly appreciate the opportunity."

"Then it is settled!" Darcy said, his heart racing at his forwardness. "When will you begin digging?"

"I had intended to start on Monday a week hence, but if you would prefer an earlier date, I can make arrangements as long as Lydia is all right with me leaving the house." She sighed. "Though I cannot do much to comfort her, I do not wish her to feel abandoned."

Darcy cursed his thoughtlessness. Of course she wanted to remain near her sister. If only he could do something to bear her burdens. A thought struck him: Georgiana knew what it was like to be betrayed by Wickham. Perhaps she could comfort Miss Lydia. He was not concerned that Georgiana would begin to emulate the Bennet sisters, and Georgiana could bear Mrs. Bennet's improprieties for a short time. After Wickham's sentencing, perhaps he could send for his sister and then she could meet Elizabeth.

"I understand, Miss Elizabeth. I would not wish to take you from your sister at this crucial juncture. Monday is fine," he said kindly.

Rather than stay and further prevent the sisters from supporting Miss Lydia, the two gentlemen took their leave, despite both their preferences to remain with the ladies.

"I will have to leave for London tomorrow," Darcy said, not six hours later, once he and Bingley were seated at dinner and the servants had left.

Bingley straightened in his chair. "What? The express that was waiting for you when we returned this afternoon?"

Darcy nodded. Upon returning to Netherfield after visiting the Bennets, he had received an express from Lord Matlock. His uncle had, at Darcy's request, tracked down Mrs. Younge. Lord Matlock's private detective was maintaining a watch over the woman, but she could bolt at any moment. Thus, Darcy needed to return to London at once to interrogate her regarding the Letter. He also intended to verify with Georgiana that Wickham did not possess any letters of hers.

"When will you return?" Bingley asked.

"I do not know—certainly by next Monday."

Bingley beamed at him. "You do not wish to miss seeing Miss Elizabeth's improved drainage."

"I—it would be in poor taste to renege upon an engagement so lately given."

"It would," Bingley agreed with mock solemnity.

Darcy hesitated. Bingley had much experience with young ladies . . . and he would not mock Darcy for his ignorance, most likely—but a part of him felt he ought to determine how best to woo Elizabeth on his own. Was that not part of the pursuit itself? Proving that he was a worthy suitor by learning how to woo?

"Bingley, how do you intend to pursue Miss Bennet?"

Bingley shrugged. "The same way one would pursue any woman: show her that I care for her, listen attentively when she speaks, and try to help her when I can. Frankly, I believe that helping Miss Lydia has done much to prove my worth as a potential husband."

"I suppose that is true." Darcy began shifting the food on his plate around. "I—but how do you show her that you care for her?"

"Is this about Miss Elizabeth?" Bingley asked with a grin.

Darcy kept his eyes resolutely fixed upon his meat. "Perhaps."

Bingley sobered. "It is difficult not to have one's father and mother at a time like this, is it not? I have lately found myself much wishing for their advice and perspective."

Darcy nodded, his throat tight. He longed for his parents to approve of Elizabeth or to explain to him why he would do better to look elsewhere, and for his mother and father to explain how precisely to go about pursuing Elizabeth.

"My father always said that he convinced my mother to marry him by anticipating her needs. My mother said that was how she allowed him to court her and that his efforts entertained her. Once, he decided that she needed a specific hair comb that would go with the dress she intended to wear. Papa bought it for her, but she decided against the dress and wore the comb anyway. It clashed horribly with the dress she did wear, but it made her laugh."

"So you intend to pursue Miss Bennet by buying her trinkets?"

Bingley choked back a laugh. "I do not think Miss Bennet would appreciate such tokens of affection—at least not yet. Miss Bennet seems like she enjoys conversation; if she were a fanatical rider, I would pursue her by riding with her as much as possible and organising riding events. Miss Elizabeth appears to enjoy debate and books and dancing. She is also much engaged in the business of Longbourn, and I believe you have chosen the best approach to pursuing her by advising her regarding the improvements she wishes to enact."

"I—I merely wish to help her. It—I can identify with having to manage an estate, despite having little experience or knowledge of how best to do so."

Bingley sighed. "Miss Bennet has spoken of how little warning Mr. Bennet gave Miss Elizabeth before leaving Longbourn in her care."

"It is difficult to manage an estate in the best of times, let alone when you are inexperienced and not given the tools to succeed," he said, thinking of how Elizabeth had needed to measure one of her family's own fields.

"All the more reason to assist her. You have been invaluable to me; I am certain that you will be just as helpful to Miss Elizabeth."

"She is already doing an excellent job."

Bingley nodded. "I look forward to seeing how she structures the drainage for her fields. And if you have the opportunity to tell her what you think of her methods and how impressed you are . . . well, that would just be an added benefit."

"Tell her?"

"How else will she know that you believe she is doing an excellent job?" Bingley asked with confusion.

Darcy set his fork down. "You do not believe it premature to speak so openly?"

"Darcy, you are not proposing to her; you are just letting her know that you admire her." He grimaced. "After your comment when we first met the Bennets, I would be surprised if she can see your interest; you made it abundantly clear that she is not the sort of woman you would ever be attracted to," he said apologetically.

Darcy stared down at his plate. "I had not considered that."

"Well, you ought to," Bingley said, pointing his fork at Darcy. "Few women are willing to overlook such a blunt condemnation of their appearance, and though Miss Elizabeth does not seem to hold it against you, I doubt she will expect interest on your part."

Which meant he needed to be more outspoken with his feelings . . . but what if she rejected him again?

Bingley put his fork down. "What are you worried about?"

"She has made her feelings clear; if I pressure her, will not that only solidify her dislike?"

"I still do not think she dislikes you any longer, and if you were suggesting you follow her about constantly, then I would share your concern. But you are not, are you?"

"Certainly not!"

"Then you have nothing to worry about. Miss Elizabeth cannot reject you if you do not make your interest clear, but then neither can she accept you." He began eating again.

Bingley was right. Darcy was just afraid to risk her disapproval. But she had not seemed remotely cold towards him over the past few weeks. In fact, after their interactions regarding Wickham, Elizabeth now seemed even more friendly than before. It was gratitude, most likely. He sighed. He wanted something more than gratitude.

"Will you call on the Bennets before departing tomorrow?"

Darcy nodded. He did not wish to leave Elizabeth in doubt of his return or of his continued intention to observe her drainage installation. It would be churlish to do so.

"Then we shall visit them at the earliest possible moment tomorrow morning."

A/N: Sorry for the late posting, y'all! Family emergency. Nothing major, just enough to take up my time :) Anyway! I'll try to keep posting on Tuesdays as has been the norm, but I may be late next week. We'll just have to see how things shape up.

Thanks for all the reviews and engagement last week! I really enjoyed hearing y'all's thoughts on Lydia and Wickham :) I can't tell you how excited I am to finally be bringing Lydia around!

Thanks to my betas, Arendelle, Dawn, Roberta, and Roxey for reading through this chapter! I'm constantly amazed by what a difference all their hard work makes :)

As always, if anyone notices any issues in this chapter, please let me know!