The walk had been as revealing of Mr. Darcy's true character as Elizabeth had hoped although in a much different way that she had anticipated. Later as she reflected on it while tending to Jane that evening she wondered at the behavior of some of her family. She and Mr. Darcy had barely gotten past cursory observations about the weather, this plant and that flower when Mr. Collins emerged from around a bend in the path, huffing from the exertion of his sojourn from the house.

"Cousin Elizabeth," he said when he finally caught his breath. "I found I could not miss an opportunity to join you after all."

Elizabeth noted the telltale crumbs caught on the sides of his lips and decided he had indulged his sweet tooth but forbore to spend the afternoon waxing poetic about Lady Catherine in favor of her company. This was serious indeed.

"I am certain Mr. Darcy perfectly understands my motivations and will support my desire to spend more time in the company of one whom I expect will soon become even more dear to me than a cousin."

This was too much. To come so near to declaring himself in front of a person practically unknown to himself and the family, to assume an understanding and to act accordingly in front of others. This behavior needed to be addressed.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and summoned as much Jane as she had within to respond in the way she felt her kinder more patient sister would.

She still wasn't certain it had been the correct decision. Perhaps a crushing set down in the presence of Mr. Darcy would have discouraged him more thoroughly. As it was he seemed merely amused at her attempts to disabuse him of the notion that she would soon become the long desired fourth player at Lady Catherine's whist table.

It was not surprising that Mr. Collins desired to impress Mr. Darcy. Therefore, he directed his long speeches about his own worthy position, his connection to Lady Catherine and his benevolent intentions toward the Bennet family to that gentleman. The surprising turn in the conversation came from Mr. Darcy who though wearing his Darcy mask, as Elizabeth had begun to think of it, listened without interruption and answered questions as they were asked. Although the latter was invariably with one word whenever possible. This she did not fault him for as Mr. Collins' conversation was as stupid as it was abundant. Just as she was beginning to almost enjoy the afternoon as she and Mr. Darcy shared an occasional look of disbelief or exasperation when their companion said something particularly absurd Kitty and Lydia had joined them. Elizabeth at first believed they had been commissioned by their mother, but later learned Lydia had her own motives for her entrance and shocking behavior in the garden that afternoon.

"Mamma thought Mr. Darcy might not enjoy playing chaperone." Lydia giggled. Elizabeth's color rose, but before she could respond Kitty, ever her eager assistant added, "yes and she thought we might prove more lively company for him in any case."

Mr. Darcy glanced briefly at Elizabeth and she saw that his mask was gone, replaced by a look of true concern. For her, she believed. It was another indication of his having a kinder nature than she had before given him credit for.

"I have in no way felt ill used." He said firmly. "You may tell your mother I am perfectly satisfied." With this he looked at Elizabeth and offered her a small smile, one dimple appeared.

"O come now Mr. Darcy." Lydia persisted. "We all know how you feel about Lizzie. You need not pretend with us. You don't like her and you think she isn't pretty which is worse if you ask me. But it's fine because she doesn't like you either. In fact I believe she hates you more than she has ever hated anyone so we have come to rescue you both. Mr. Collins, you and Lizzie must go inside with Mamma and Kitty and I will keep Mr. Darcy company."

Elizabeth was more than mortified at this point. Lydia's behavior and words were shocking. But for once Elizabeth felt more her own misconduct, believing that she was in that moment the Bennet sister most deserving of reprimand. During their conversation on the road Mr. Darcy had offered an apology for his words at the assembly. She had merely hinted at her own unworthy behavior and offered no apology in any case. Now to have her dislike of him declared so matter of factly to the gentleman himself she felt fully the weight of her own imprudence at declaring it so often and so indiscreetly since their first encounter. When would she learn to be more like Jane?

A glance at Mr. Darcy revealed that Lydia's thoughtless words had made an impact, but only because she looked to him immediately upon Lydia's declaration and saw a look of hurt flash in his eyes right before the mask slipped back in to place. He then raised a brow at her and she wished she didn't know what it meant. He was daring her to deny it which of course she couldn't do. But she could explain or she could have if in that moment a servant hadn't come to fetch her. Jane was awake, doing poorly and asking for her.

Now as twilight fell Elizabeth had coaxed Jane back to sleep. She had not left her sister's side for a moment since she returned to her from the garden in the afternoon. The fever had returned and although it was only slight Elizabeth was sufficiently alarmed to insist on missing dinner and being the one to give Jane two more cups of tea. This was all she could get her to ingest which worried her. However, the fever had broken about an hour ago and Jane slept calmly and coolly so Elizabeth was left to ponder the events of the afternoon.

That she had been wrong in her assessment of Mr. Darcy was clear. How wrong was yet to be determined. He might have more kindness than she had credited to him but he was still a proud man. And what of his words about her? That look of admiration? Had she merely imagined that? What troubled her most was that he must now believe she hated him. She had left him alone with her youngest sisters and Mr. Collins, a fate no sensible man deserved. It was impossible to know what further gossip was shared. What further truth, she admitted to herself.

As she drifted off to sleep in the bed beside her sister she determined to find a way to offer an apology to Mr. Darcy. She had not been wrong to judge him proud and disagreeable. He had been both of those things. She had been wrong to speak of him so harshly to her family, her neighbors, all who would listen - making it almost impossible for him to find a ready welcome anywhere if he ever did want one. Making it difficult for him to make friends with . . . well with her for one. Now with her stated dislike between them their fragile peace forged on the road to Longbourn felt like a very shaky beginning to a very unlikely friendship. But what she was certain of now is that she did desire it, that friendship so she would try.