"Miss Bennet, would you like to see the library?" Mr. Darcy smiled at Elizabeth as he said this, a smile that would be wrong to describe as lascivious, but it would be correct to say it held a hint of a suggestion of the pleasure to be found there.

Elizabeth picked up on the hint – since her arrival in town she had been in company with Mr. Darcy every day, and she had found she was starting to communicate with him without speaking – oh, there were words, but the need for full sentences seemed to be gone, a few words and a gesture, the slight raise of an eyebrow, the quirk of a lip, the flutter of an eyelid, and she knew what he meant and he knew what she meant – and it was all very frightening, she had lived with her sisters all her, or their, lives, and she could only communicate with Jane like that – Mary was generally oblivious, in a world of her own, Kitty was almost as bad, and Lydia, well you needed words, loud words, and a good stout stick to communicate with her – or you used to. Elizabeth sighed to herself at the thought of that lost lamb, snorted, lamb indeed, and then smiled at Mr. Darcy, a smile that said 'yes, indeed, but what about our sisters?'

It was Jane who answered Elizabeth's unspoken question. Jane said "Miss Darcy, would you mind the showing the rest of us the music room again while your brother shows Elizabeth your library. I know Mary has some questions about your pianoforte."

Mary started to say something that came out as a mumbled 'ooph'. She then rubbed her side and glared at Jane.

Kitty, who was beyond the range of Jane's elbow, said "Don't they need a chaperone?"

"No, not when they are engaged," Jane told her. "They won't do anything untoward, would they?"

Both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth shook their heads, an insincere expression of 'no not us, we wouldn't think of it', while their rapidly shifting eyes, in avoidance of Jane's steady gaze, proclaimed their intention to expand the definition of 'untoward' as far as they could.

Jane made a small motion with her hand, signalling 'get on with it', and when Mr. Darcy had extended his arm to Elizabeth and the two of them had started down the hall, she called out to them "We'll let you know when tea is ready."

Mrs. Burke, the Darcys' London housekeeper, and one of the guides on the tour of Darcy House Elizabeth and her sisters had just finished, blurted out "Oh, ma'am, the tea is ready now."

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth stopped and looked back.

"In fifteen minutes," said Jane.

Mr. Darcy stared at Jane's face. There was not a hint of command or challenge there - if it had been his Aunt Matlock's face there would have been a clear look of command, with the promise of consequences, dear boy, if there were transgressions – Mrs. Bingley's face was beautiful and serene, but the message perceived by Mr. Darcy was the same as if it had been delivered by his aunt – do not disappoint me, don't give me lines to mar this tranquil face. His ardour having been thus cooled to a manageable level, Mr. Darcy bowed his head in submission to Jane and in turn, she tilted her head.

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were just at the library when they heard Jane behind them say "Fourteen minutes." Elizabeth laughed and pulled Mr. Darcy into the library.

-}{-

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth did not get very far into the library.

They left the door ajar, although it was as near to being closed as a door could be and still be considered ajar.

They left the rules of propriety ajar as well. Nothing was unbuttoned, nothing was undone, nothing was wrinkled (although the last was a close-run thing).

After ten minutes (although Elizabeth laughed at him, Mr. Darcy checked his pocket watch every few minutes, he was worried that Mrs. Bingley was timing them by the drawing room clock which he knew ran a little fast and would be bursting in on them accompanied by a horde of sisters and servants if they were one second late) it was mutually, if regretfully, agreed that the tour of the library be adjourned to another day. They needed a few minutes to let their heartbeats slow down, their colour subside, and wipe their faces. No one ever mentions slobber when discussing kissing.

Thinking they were in need of some conversation should one of their sisters (likely Miss Kitty) inquire as to what they had been up to, "What think you of the books?" said Mr. Darcy, smiling.

"No - I cannot talk of books in a library; my head is full of something else," laughed Elizabeth.

"The present always occupies you in such scenes - does it?" said he, with a grin.

"Yes, always," she replied, "if you refer to our present scene" and she reached for him.

Mr. Darcy dodged around the library table. "Enough of that, minx. Think of what your sister will say if she catches us."

That stopped Elizabeth. The Jane of old would have accepted any explanation from the two of them if she caught them in, as her Aunt Phillips put it, fragrant delicto, at face value, no matter how far fetched. This new Jane, would certainly be disappointed, and Elizabeth, mindful of Jane's willingness to leave Lydia to moulder in Australia, was afraid of what punishment would be meted out for even so minor a betrayal, straightened up.

At that moment there was a knock on the door, which then opened sufficient to allow the voice of Chambers, the Darcys' butler, to enter. "Mrs. Bingley has requested me to advise you that tea is being served." When there was no immediate response, he added "Now".

Mr. Darcy held out his arm to Elizabeth and said "We are coming forthwith."