"The country air must be doing you great favors, Miss Elizabeth, for your coloring appears decidedly better than it did when you first arrived," Aunt Catherine declared over dinner another week later. "It is most fortunate that I permit you to wander about the gardens at will."
Darcy watched as Miss Elizabeth pursed her lips, acquainted by now with that look in her eyes whenever she questioned herself regarding whether or not to speak her mind. It was a degree of circumspection that Darcy both appreciated and admired.
"Your gardens are lovely indeed, Aunt Catherine," Richard fielded for the entire party. "I am certain that we would all consider it an honor to visit them."
"But of course." The lady preened.
Darcy could not help but notice how Miss Elizabeth hid her smile just as he did so himself.
"I thank you for your generosity, Lady Catherine," the young lady from Hertfordshire spoke a moment hence. "One must thank the forces that have granted your family such an impressive home."
"There are no forces." Aunt Catherine huffed. Mr. Collins nearly choked himself at the sight of his patroness being anything but wholly pleased. "But planning - and careful alliances. It is the very reason Anne is to marry her cousin - and I dare say it is high time for the wedding. Darcy, shall we have the banns read this Sunday?"
Darcy's eyes darted quickly towards Miss Elizabeth, who regarded him with a look of cool surprise. It was clear that she had not heard, or at least not considered as truth, the news of his supposed engagement with Anne.
He did not know why he cared what she thought.
He only felt that he did.
"There shall be no such thing, Aunt Catherine," Darcy stated with as much collection as he could manage. "You know full well that I have no intent to marry Anne."
"Shall you dodge your duty yet again?" His aunt's voice rose, as did her visage. "Shall you treat so haphazardly the very wishes of your mother?"
Darcy groaned under his breath. "Aunt Catherine - "
"You - who find no qualms in chasing skirts all over London, nay, all over England - do you truly think you shall escape your duty to your family forever?"
Darcy frowned at the reference to his other - activities.
"Aunt Catherine, this has little to do with my duty. I have never - "
"Shall Anne wait for you, year after year, with no result? A woman shall not stay young forever."
"It is not a matter of time, Aunt Catherine. There was never any truth to the matter of - "
"You shall marry Anne - and I do declare this very spring the best time to do so!"
"I shall not!" Darcy growled, his voice carrying over the room and resting upon the anxious shoulders of every individual therein.
Beside him, Richard let loose a long, forceful sigh. At the head of the table, Aunt Catherine fumed with all the fury of a thousand heathen gods. Darcy wished to steal a glance at the lady across from him - but dared not just yet.
The first sound to break the silence was a torn, choking sob - from Anne de Bourgh.
"Oh, Miss de Bourgh," Mrs. Collins was the first to express. Her place at the table prevented her from reaching the young heiress well - but the closest lady to Anne, Miss Elizabeth herself, quickly extended a hand to the sobbing girl.
"Miss de Bourgh, do not fret." Miss Elizabeth comforted, with the clear sympathy, compassion, and firmness of an older sister. "All shall be well."
Lady Catherine huffed, like a proud, offended ostrich, and readjusted herself without a word.
"There is - nothing would - what shall - " Anne continued to sob, her words a string of broken syllables, each more senseless than the last.
Darcy watched with fascination as Miss Elizabeth, the woman whom society has favored so little, soothed the wailing form of Anne de Bourgh, whose life had been nothing but privilege and material comfort. Who was he - or anyone, for that matter - to pronounce that one lady was superior to the other merely because of what her father's holdings may have been?
Was a lady's true worth to be determined by her birth rather than by her character - her dowry rather than her mind?
"What shall become of me?" Anne blubbered at last her first full thought since Darcy's grand declaration.
"Oh, do not worry, Miss de Bourgh," Miss Elizabeth coaxed, tone firm yet dulcifying. "What good does it do us if we ally ourselves with men who do not love us? Surely, you would wish to marry only someone who truly wishes to marry you - for only there does happiness lie."
He words, spoken so gently yet sensibly, acted as a balm over the agitated room - and dinner soon recommenced in sparse, sporadic bites. Conversation, when it resumed, remained trivial and curt. Polite exchanges replaced genuine words. Animosity lingered, though it lessened over the subsequent hour.
It was perhaps the best one could hope for, given the inauspicious turn of events.
"Miss Elizabeth!" Darcy was quick to call out the very next morn, when he glimpsed her at last in their usual haunt.
She looked up, a mixture of surprise and resignation on her face. Did she expect him to abandon their usual walks due to the previous night's events?
"I am - glad to see you," he said as he stepped closer. He did not wish to offend. It was perhaps the first time he ever cared what sort of impression he left upon a lady. He did not wish to fall short.
"I hope you rested well, sir," she replied civilly.
"As well as could be."
He offered his arm just as he always did, and he observed her slight hesitation before she took it.
It was, perhaps, sufficient enough of a peace offering.
They walked along in silence for the first few minutes, letting the sounds of nature commune around them instead. The path was familiar, although the tone slightly altered. When Darcy did speak, it was with words carefully curated.
"I must apologize, Miss Elizabeth, for the abhorrent behavior of my family. I, who have always prided myself in my relations and status, can only express shame for the way they - and I - have been conducting ourselves of late."
Her smile appeared grim, though sincere enough.
"Every family carries its crosses."
"Indeed, though wealth and titles can sometimes obscure those of us bestowed with them - misleading us to think that their existence justifies our shortcomings. It is, of course, a poor attitude to profess."
"I admire you, sir, for your confession."
Her compliment, so politely stated, warmed him slightly.
He lowered his head instinctively as they turned the bend. "I must thank you as well, Miss Elizabeth, for comforting Anne in the midst of the turmoil. Your wisdom knows no bounds."
This time, she smiled slightly more deeply. "I spoke only what was upon my mind, sir. I fear I am hardly capable of saying anything else at all - often to Mrs. Collins's chagrin."
"Ah, yes - I have witnessed that indeed."
She laughed softly. Darcy found himself laughing along as well.
"You must be glad, sir, that I am a guest of your aunt's parson rather than your aunt. People rarely appreciate my candid behavior in heavier doses."
"I sincerely doubt that I would tire of your company."
"But it is easy to promise what one has not had to endure, is it not?"
"You doubt my honesty?"
"I doubt your true knowledge regarding what you speak." She smiled. "You have not had to share a home with multiple women, sir, and can hardly understand the endless trials a multitude of womenfolk can conjure."
Darcy smiled despite himself, choosing to avoid alluding to the times he'd shared homes with households with multiple daughters, each more invested in his attentions than the last.
"I suppose I must accede to your wisdom," he humbly said.
"Of course." She laughed. She let go and turned around to face him, walking backwards for a few moments. "There are many areas where I willingly acknowledge your superiority - but I fear that I simply must insist on being the better informed between us if one were to discuss the maneuverings of a life with an abundance of ladies in one house."
Darcy smiled brightly now. "I suppose we can agree."
"Of course," she stated, smiling herself. She turned, clearly attempting to resume her previous position right at the bend with the sprawling tree roots, when she wobbled towards the water.
"Careful!" Darcy cried just as his hands reached out to grasp her. The pond's edge, so close behind her, limited them to a small space, her chest pressed right up against his, her face tight against his cheek.
She looked up. Darcy looked down. His hands remained firmly around her arms.
And all of a sudden, Darcy wondered if his heart stayed safely ensconced in his chest, or wished to fly free of its confines. Her eyes bewitched him - unfathomable in their depths. Her lips beckoned him, in a way he had never been tempted before.
Here stood a woman upon whom he had no designs whatsoever, and whom he trusted to have no desires for him. And it was perhaps that very lack of scheming, that lack of shyness, that lack of guile - that endeared her all the more to him.
"Th - thank you, sir," she muttered first.
Darcy nodded and stepped back, allowing her space to regain her footing before he let go.
She appeared slightly embarrassed, her cheeks tinged with pink. Darcy hoped he had not overstepped any boundaries as he watched her readjust her ensemble.
"I suppose speaking while walking while turning never was very wise of me," she said, rather breathlessly.
Darcy bowed. "I am glad you are well."
She looked at him, more directly this time. She smiled. "Thank you, sir, for your timely deliverance."
The slight teasing tones had returned.
He had missed them.
"The day progresses. Shall we meet once more as callers instead?" Darcy offered.
Miss Elizabeth curtsied, every bit a proper lady. "Of course."
A/N: Tiny moments of sparks and teasing. They're courting but not courting somehow :)
In other news, I have been invited by the panel of Austen Authors to join their ranks in blogging for the austenauthors website. These are authors I have long admired, many of them with decades of experience in writing JAFF, and I am both thrilled and extremely nervous about being counted among them. My debut post came out today, so please do check it out if you like a bunch of writers blogging about Austen and related sundry matters!