On the way out of the inn, Elizabeth noticed some things that she had never been in a position to observe, and that she would probably have discounted anyway. Darcy thanked the innkeeper and serving maid courteously and gave each what looked like a generous tip. It was not ostentatious, like a man trying to impress a woman, but more like something he just did out of habit without thinking. Elizabeth thought she was astute enough to tell the difference – or at least she thought that until she realized just how often she and her husband misunderstood each other. She decided that she should not get overconfident in her observational skills.
As they walked out the front door of the inn, she noticed a family stepping out of another coach. A young girl of around three or four years broke free from her mother, and ran headlong across the courtyard, yelling in pure joy, as if saying to the world, 'free at last'. Two women, one who looked like a nanny, and the other who looked like her mother, ran after the little girl as fast as they could, and probably would have caught her eventually, if the child had not run full speed right into the legs of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. She bounced back, almost falling on the hard-packed courtyard, but quick as a cat, the gentleman caught her just before she landed and pulled her back upright.
Her mother ran up, obviously ready to give the child what for, but she came up short when the gentleman leaned down to eye level with the child, who looked ready to cry. "That was fun. Want to try again?"
The child's eyes got somewhat big, and then she just burst out laughing. The gentleman reached over and tweaked her nose. "I would caution you to be careful, young lady, but I suspect you are about to be instructed adequately. Might I have your name?"
"Lilith," she said, not in the least perturbed by talking to such a large gentleman, and obviously not understanding half of what he said. Elizabeth reckoned that everyone was big and confusing to 'Lilith', so she leaned over and said, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lilith."
The child's mother and nanny had stopped to observe, not appearing overly worried, and Elizabeth was surprised when Darcy said quietly. "I would ask you not to be too hard on her for my sake, madam. She will have to learn to be careful around horses, but you can clearly see neither my wife nor I are injured or offended."
The woman curtsied. "I thank you, sir. Lilith is a bit of a handful."
Elizabeth laughed. "You just repeated my own mother's and housekeeper's words from nearly every day of my young life".
The mother nodded in acknowledgement with a smile on her face. "I am Mrs. Margaret Hanson, and I can see you have met Lilith. Have you any children of your own?"
In another time and another place, it might have seemed an intrusive question from someone you had just met, and an hour previously, it would have made Elizabeth scream. She could see it making Darcy nervous, so she said, "We were just wed this morning Mrs. Hanson, so it is early yet."
She made a little sly smile. "If this is your wedding day, I would not want Lilith to spoil it."
Darcy said, "On the contrary, Mrs. Hanson. Lilith has been a delight, is that not right Elizabeth?"
At any other time, having him use her given name without permission, even if he was her husband, might have given her some discomfort, but there in the courtyard, with Lilith seemingly egging him on, it just seemed the right thing to do.
"Yes, Fitzwilliam, she has been a delight. May I ask where you are bound, Mrs. Hanson?"
"I will be visiting my father. He owns a bookstore in a small village in Derbyshire?"
Much to Darcy's surprise, Elizabeth said, "I only know one bookstore in Derbyshire. I slightly know a Mr. Bartlet in Lambton. Does your father know him"?
"Why, that is my father, as sure as can be. Who would have thought?"
Elizabeth clapped happily, and Darcy, looking somewhat perplexed, wondering why his wife seemed to know more people in Lambton than he did. "Will you be there long, Mrs. Hanson?"
"No, sir. I am only for a visit of a fortnight, then I am to meet my husband. He just inherited his father's estate, near Manchester, and wishes to make sure all is as it should be and safe for Lilith before we join him."
Darcy retrieved a card from his pocket. "It is unfortunate that we will be away, but should you return another time, we would be pleased if you would call on us. I will also mention it to your father next time I am in his shop."
Elizabeth was even more surprised at the invitation. The woman had obviously married up, but she was certainly not of the same social class as the Darcys of Pemberley. She was impressed. Even if, as she strongly suspected, this was out of character, and her husband was using another of his 'low stunts' to score points with his wife, it would not be the worst thing in the world. She smiled, and reached over to retake her husband's arm, because, it once again seemed the right thing to do. She still did not actually know if she liked her husband but had to sheepishly admit that if she had met him ten minutes before, she would be very impressed.
Elizabeth said, "Please give your father my best wishes, and tell him I will visit his shop when I return to Derbyshire. He probably will not remember my name, but just remind him that he let me write a letter in his shop and escorted me to the inn, both of which I am very grateful for."
The mother smiled. "Does that not sound just like him? I will pass the message, Mrs. – and then she read the card, and gasped in surprise, finally saying, "Darcy."
Elizabeth smiled, and watched to see what the woman would do. She curtsied, somewhat more formally than she had before, which disappointed Elizabeth slightly, but was expected.
She leaned down again. "It was very nice to meet you Lilith. I hope the next time you visit your grandfather that you can come visit me as well."
Lilith, turning somewhat shy again, simply nodded and then ran back to her mother and hid her face in her skirts.
Elizabeth curtsied to the pair, then retook Darcy's arm. She had not even noticed that she had just promised a three‑year‑old that she was likely to live in Derbyshire in future, but Darcy certainly did.
Elizabeth noticed that they were returning to the coach they had traveled from Meryton in. The other, which was noticeably smaller, had apparently been dispatched to Derbyshire to acquire her lady's maid. She hoped Molly would not be distressed by the abrupt orders to pack up and move to London for some months and regretted that she could not write to her to explain. Of course, she had been in the middle of a fight for her life, and too busy to think about writing. There was also the fact that Molly could not have read what she wrote anyway.
Elizabeth thought that she would have her work cut out for her, but she did not mind. Once she elevated Molly to lady's maid, she would have to teach her all the necessary skills, starting with reading, and act as if she had always had them. It had been a rather poorly thought out plan, but she imagined she would persevere. In the worst case, she would get her Aunt Gardiner's lady's maid to help.
Darcy handed her in, and Elizabeth felt a momentary bit of confusion. She sat down in almost the same spot she had vacated an hour before, then her husband sat back in his now customary spot, and calmly said, "Drive on," just loud enough for the footman outside the door to hear. Small things like that made slight impressions on her. He could have banged the roof as was customary, or shouted, but he seemed to know what needed to be done and did it with some subtlety. It was indeed a small thing, but not nothing.
Once they were moving, Darcy asked, "You looked pensive, Eliz – err – Mrs. Darcy."
Elizabeth thought a moment. "We said we would try, Fitzwilliam. I think falling back on formality when we are alone will not do. It would simply propagate our discord. My parents always used that form of address all my life, and I dislike it."
Darcy smiled. "Can I make a confession?"
"If you must."
"I have thought of you as Elizabeth for quite some time. I was having trouble with Mrs. Darcy."
"To be honest, I was having trouble with Mrs. Darcy too."
She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, so she reached over and squeezed his arm with a small smile to remove the sting. "I shall be pleased if you call me Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam."
Darcy smiled again, apparently happy and nodded.
She said, "When we got into the coach, I had a sense of déjà vu, although in this case it was a specific memory, not a premonition. Have you ever had those?"
"Occasionally. What were you thinking?"
Elizabeth bit her lip, but instead of answering, she very deliberately removed her bonnet and set it on the seat beside her, saying, "These are little better than blinders inside of a coach."
Darcy took off his hat and gloves to match, and Elizabeth followed suit with her gloves. She thought that they would need to stop somewhere before London so she could put on her mobcap, make sure it fit and that it was not backwards. She was ambivalent about what she thought about the garment, but it seemed sensible, at least at first, to try to follow as many conventions as possible. She would have more leeway, if and when, she became better established.
She sat back a moment. "When you handed me in, I was reminded of that day in Netherfield when Jane and I returned to Longbourn. You sat in the library and thoroughly ignored me for a full half‑hour the day before. I verified it with the mantle clock. That was expected, but then you handed me into the carriage, and I felt that you held my hand longer and tighter than I anticipated."
She drifted off in thought, and Darcy asked softly. "What did you expect?"
Elizabeth startled slightly at the question. "I expected you to observe a footman handing me in from the porch while you frowned furiously, or more likely the first-floor window – if you observed it at all. "
Darcy looked a bit sad. "You really had no idea at the time?"
"No idea of what exactly? I confess that whatever it is, I have no idea now, let alone at the time."
Darcy sighed in disappointment. "Let me just say that you discomposed me. As I alluded to before, my better self was trying to beat some sense into my head, but he was fighting a losing battle against my worse self – my pride, and so forth. I …"
He paused a moment, looked pensive, and a little bit lost, but finally continued, "… I already thought of you as Elizabeth at that point. You thought I ignored you for a half‑hour, but I can assure you that you consumed every thought. I did not read a single line, let alone a page."
Elizabeth's mouth formed an 'O' of surprise. "I would never have guessed. I was convinced our antipathy was mutual."
"Yes, I kept my feelings quite well hidden. Miss Bingley knew. She is an actual adventuress, and she was very jealous of you because I let one thought slip that I admired your eyes, when you were playing in Lucas Lodge. Bingley may have suspected as well, but it is hard to say. Hurst, almost certainly knew."
"Mr. Hurst?" Elizabeth asked in shock.
"Yes, he only appears to be asleep. He likes to know everything and say nothing."
Elizabeth shook her head. "Was I right about anyone at Netherfield at all?"
"You probably understood all of the Bingleys correctly, including Mrs. Hurst."
"Not much in the way of bragging rights there. There is not a grain of subtlety among the lot."
Darcy laughed. "And me?"
She smiled. "Subtlety is not your strong suit, Fitzwilliam, but you are an absolute master of misdirection."
Not certain if that was praise or censure, he decided to just tip his imaginary hat, which would work for each, and they both settled back into their seats. They had things to discuss but wanted a few minutes to rest and reflect first.
After a quarter hour of riding along in relatively companionable silence, Elizabeth surprised her husband by reaching over to check his forehead without asking.
"You still have a fever. The willow bark tea may have helped, but I am not convinced you are on the mend."
"It is not too bad. I will recover."
"I am not certain. I was the designated family nurse. My mother was too flighty, Mrs. Hill too busy, Jane too squeamish, Mary too pedantic, Kitty and Lydia too selfish and silly. I will insist you drag out a physician when we get to London."
Darcy chuckled. "Ordering me around already, I see."
Elizabeth blushed and looked down, but Darcy quickly added, "Take that as praise, as it was intended. I confess I like it."
She had no idea how to react to that, but then decided to leave it for future reflection. She looked at him skeptically. "What if you do not – get better, that is. I believe it is time to discuss this 'important task' you have assigned yourself."
Darcy sighed and said, "I do not know exactly where to begin."
"Let us start with the absolute basics. Where do you need to be at dawn? What do you need to do before you leave? What will be the consequences if you are not there? What fallback plan have you made in case you miss it?"
Darcy laughed a bit but squeezed Elizabeth's arm to show he was not mocking her, and asked, "For the basics, that is fairly comprehensive. That line of questioning is – unexpected?"
Elizabeth snapped, "Why – because I am a woman and we are not supposed to be able to think like that? I can assure you that civilization would have collapsed, and Humans would be extinct if men were required to raise their children or organize their households?"
Darcy laughed again. "Peace, Elizabeth! Peace! I remind you of our bargain. You agreed to think the second or third worst thing about myself and my family instead of the worst."
Feeling somewhat contrite, Elizabeth said, "Yes, considering my own family, that seems fair. I will endeavor to remember."
"Do not worry. I believe that right now you suspect you jumped from the worst family in the world to the second worst, but you may very well have it backwards."
Elizabeth shook her head. "I hope you will explain that."
"Of course. I have learned the futility of thinking I can outsmart you, and I have given up the effort. I am just working my way up. So, how shall we proceed, and if it is not prying too much, where did those questions come from. They seem very specific.
Elizabeth smiled, enjoying the sparring, which might have sounded slightly like arguing. "My Uncle Gardiner is my mother's brother. You would not believe he comes from the same stock. He is a tradesman in London, married to my aunt who hails from Lambton. He started with nearly nothing, and probably makes more than Mr. Bingley now, all built with his own hands."
Darcy nodded, impressed. As a member of the landed gentry, he was supposed, by society's rules, to look down on tradesmen, but he had always thought that to be a stupid idea. England was at war over trade, so to pretend those involved in it were somehow less, made no sense at all. His cousin was now a prisoner of the French over trade. At that moment though, he did not want to divert too much from his conversation.
"I look forward to meeting your uncle."
Elizabeth was thoroughly surprised by that, but then, she remembered his reaction to Lilith and the maids at the inn, and the fact that he was willing to spend two months nursemaiding Mr. Bingley; and decided she needed to get her prejudice under control. It might be important.
"I am certain he will be happy to meet you, but back to the subject. He taught me how to think like a tradesman. He is very good at what he does. Do you know what else he taught me?"
Darcy leaned forward and said earnestly. "I would like to."
Those were the kinds of words that in another tone might have been mocking, but Elizabeth was beginning to understand (finally) when her husband was being mocking and when he was being serious. She almost got distracted wondering if he had actually wanted to dance a reel in Netherfield when she thought he was mocking, and idly wondered what would have happened if she had accepted – but then she forced her mind back to the conversation at hand.
"He called it the interval game. He said it was important to work out what you need to accomplish in the next five minutes, the next five hours, the next five days, five weeks, five months and so on. At each step, you get less and less certain of the outcome. He says it is important to think about them, but to keep the uncertainty in mind. Then, and only then, you should ask yourself if what you are doing in the next five minutes or five hours is in alignment with what you want to do in five months or five years. He says most people just stumble along only thinking of the next week at the most."
Darcy gave the idea some intense thought, and Elizabeth noticed something. When he as deep in thought, or nervous, or angry, he looked 'haughty'. Might that just be her interpretation of his normal look? It was a disquieting thought that she tucked away to examine later. She thought she might need to get parchment and pen to make list of her prejudices so she could see how many were accurate.
"I believe your uncle is a wise man. Were you using this technique during our betrothal?"
"Yes," she said, then cautiously added, "I –" and she paused meaningfully, gathering her thoughts before continuing, "In less than a minute, someone else dictated my next fifty years, without a single thought for me. I spent the betrothal period trying to claw them back. Every time I ran, I thought about every interval, and acted accordingly."
"It seems obvious that is my fault. I could have avoided it all by simply asking as single question."
Elizabeth leaned towards him. "What question is that?"
Darcy had been staring at the floor in shame. "Is it true?"
"Yes, that would have been the gentlemanly thing to do, but …"
Elizabeth started staring again, and so her husband prompted her. "but?"
Blowing a breath, Elizabeth continued, "… but, while I believe that most of my motivations were entirely selfish, and I own those without apology …"
Darcy waited patiently.
"… I also thought about you, sir. You were even more of a victim than I was, and whether it was simply rationalization or genuine concern, I did give some thought to sparing you fifty years of agony as well."
Darcy sighed. "I suppose both of us were subject to our own prejudices. Neither of us saw anything but years of animosity."
"Kind of silly of us, was it not?"
Darcy chuckled. "Yes, it was. I hate to bring up Bingley, but his uncle told him something I thought very wise. He said we all spend our time trying to fall in love, and then get married. He says that is backwards. We should get married and then fall in love."
Elizabeth stared at the floor for quite some time, and finally said, "Do you think that is possible?"
Darcy boldly took her hand in his, and then clasped it between both of his bare hands. It was quite possibly the most intimate contact they ever had, and he said softly, "It is possible, and we will do it."
Elizabeth, feeling completely discomposed by the feeling of safety having her hand in his gave, sighed in something between trepidation and contentment. "I will try. I have some faith that it can be done. All that remains is to prove that we can do it."
Not really knowing anything to add to that, they rode in silence, accompanied by their own thoughts for a half‑hour, and then pulled into the courtyard of another inn.
Darcy said, "I will hire an express rider to go ahead to bring the physician to Darcy House, and we can have some tea. Another small dose of laudanum would not kill me either."
Elizabeth, feeling very skeptical about the chances of him going on his oh-so-important mission at dawn, was happy that at least he recognized common sense when it fell on his head.
She just said, "That would be lovely."
