He peered over the grass, hoping that he indeed glimpsed what he thought he'd glimpsed. A fast approach to the small pond proved him right.
Miss Elizabeth perched by the side of the water, pen and ink in hand.
And Darcy smiled his first true smile of the past few days. He could hardly afford a single pleasant reaction in Netherfield without Miss Bingley pouncing upon him - and Darcy relished the relief of being able to express gladness as he wished.
"Miss Elizabeth," he greeted with a gallant bow.
She looked up, smiling as she always did, and rose to grant him her curtsy.
Before today, they had never spoken of intending to meet again. It was hardly proper for either of them to appoint such a rendezvous.
But ever since the first day she'd spoken with him through the written word, Darcy never failed to wander here every other day - gratified to find her each time.
The longest fortnight of his life had become much more bearable in the light of her company.
"Please, do sit." He gestured at the low rocks as if they were high-backed chairs in Pemberley's parlor.
Miss Elizabeth smiled pleasantly as they both took their seats.
Her company was a pleasant one - soothing, kind, and calm. Her vivid expressions allowed him to peer into her mind whenever he spoke of London, or of Netherfield. Miss Jane Bennet and all the other sisters never seemed close to being as perceptive as this sister of theirs.
It was a pity that this one remained mostly unknown by society.
"Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?"
"Father bought me new books," proudly, she wrote.
Darcy smiled. "You like to read."
Her vehement nod and vibrant smile expressed more than any written letters could.
"I am glad. And if you are done with them, perhaps I can persuade Bingley to let me borrow a few volumes from his pauper's collection."
Miss Elizabeth smiled with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes, and Darcy congratulated himself on being the bearer of news to cause that smile.
"How is Mr. Bingley?" Her next message read.
"I suppose your sisters see him more than I do." Darcy smiled. "He does visit Longbourn quite often."
"He speaks mostly to Jane."
"I am aware."
"They shall be very happy." The next message caught Darcy off-guard.
He turned to meet Miss Elizabeth's eyes. "You think they care for one another?"
She nodded, appearing slightly surprised yet most definitely sincere.
"Your sister does not - act with particular attention to my friend," Darcy adds.
A sound that closely imitated a chuckle emitted itself from his companion.
"Jane is shy," she scribbled.
"She appears reserved in his company, appearing almost unsure of returning his attentions."
Miss Elizabeth shook her head. "She likes him, very much. She speaks constantly of him."
"I see." Darcy leaned his head slightly in contemplation. Had he seriously misjudged Miss Bennet's manners?
After all, not all ladies acted like Miss Bingley when intent on pursuing matrimonial prospects.
"And you?" Darcy turned to the person beside him. "Do you think them well-suited?"
Miss Elizabeth nodded so strongly that Darcy nearly worried that her head might fall off.
"I see," he acknowledged.
"Do you think Mr. Bingley truly cares for her?" the next message read.
"I - " Darcy considered the way Bingley had sung Miss Bennet's praises, nearly every evening of their time in Hertfordshire thus far. He compared Bingley's demeanor the past fortnight with the way he used to act in Cambridge. "I suppose he seems even more taken with her than usual."
The full, flushed smile of relief that overcame Miss Elizabeth's face had Darcy almost wish he had mentioned the topic before.
"You truly wish them happiness?" Darcy inquired.
"Of course." She met his eyes before writing once more, "Do you not?"
And Darcy could not even help himself when he admitted, "I suppose I do too."
"What a foolish thing!"
"Utterly ridiculous."
"She shall do you no good, Charles."
The Bingley sisters' words reverberated as they often did in Darcy's mind as he meandered towards the hidden pond. The news of Bingley and Miss Bennet's official courtship had broken two days ago. And, yet, the ladies of Netherfield had seemed keen to deny any possible benefit to the courtship's existence despite the development's otherwise universal welcome.
Darcy gave thanks, more sincerely than ever, that he had discovered an unlikely companion at the edge of town.
This morning, unlike previous ones, Darcy heard Miss Elizabeth before he could greet her.
Her skirts rustled as she shuffled to her feet, the smile on her face beaming more brightly than it had ever done before.
Darcy smiled himself. "I assume you've heard."
She nodded enthusiastically, propriety forgotten as they grinned at each other without so much as a single formal greeting.
"Thank you," her paper read today.
"I did very little," said Darcy.
"Your friend listens to you."
How she could perceive such interactions despite her relative invisibility to the rest of society baffled and impressed Darcy in equal measure.
"I merely told him the truth," Darcy acknowledged, his hands behind his back, almost like a school boy blushing at his teacher's praise. "That your sister cares as much for him as he does for her."
Miss Elizabeth's smile softened, and Darcy nearly reached out to touch it - so vibrant was its appeal.
"Thank you," she wrote again, "my sister is as glad as glad can be."
"And you, Miss Elizabeth?"
"Her happiness is mine."
The simple sincerity of the statement tugged at Darcy's chest.
"Perhaps, then, to make you happier," he sported his most teasing tones, "I ought to encourage him to propose forthwith?"
And with a brilliant, incandescent smile, Miss Elizabeth launched herself forward to embrace him. Darcy took a single step back to prevent them from toppling over.
And suddenly, the blush he'd felt earlier seemed to transform itself in nature.
"I suppose you approve?" He whispered, short on breath for some inexplicable reason.
She pulled back quickly, appearing slightly embarrassed by her own childish impulse, before nodding more zealously than an anxious puppy.
"Very well." Darcy smiled. "I suppose I shall have to talk to my friend more often, shan't I?"
My dearest brother,
Your descriptions of Miss Elizabeth grow more intriguing with every additional letter. How I rejoice that we can share such details in personal correspondence! I miss you dearly, Fitzwilliam, and take heart in every update regarding your current circumstances. It is a comfort to know that you have found such pleasant company in the midst of an unpleasant stay. Perhaps knowing your endurance can encourage me to do the same with my dreary lessons of late. There is hope in every circumstance!
The new maid spilled water over a cat the other day. The resulting screams and commotion seemed to pale in comparison to the maid's endless apologies. Even now, I feel I hear her still. It took a great effort to convince her that she would not lose her employ over such a trivial matter. I find myself being schooled in the matters of management every single day.
I've learned a new piece for the pianoforte since my last letter. While I believe it to improve my skills, I fear I dislike the piece altogether. There is far too much clanging and far too little true melody. I do hope I would prefer my next one better.
May I ask more about your lady friend, Fitzwilliam? You mention that she does not speak, and yet writes. Of what does she write? Does she express her thoughts freely? I would like very much to have a friend as well. Perhaps you may tell me further of her preferences and personality? I would so very much like to hear more.
Most sincerely,
Georgiana Darcy
A/N: As usual, I finished drafting this story a while ago and am only editing it now for posting. I hope to discover the plot along with you! Thank you for the patience and encouragement.