Mr Darcy felt his feet pushing their familiar way to the window as soon as Miss Elizabeth was out of sight. He had endeavoured to obey his sister and gain Miss Elizabeth's friendship - for his sake even if he couldn't understand whether it gave him more joy or pain. For she wasn't the kind of woman that he could ever consider, no matter how much she might enchant him.
Georgiana's displeased features found themselves in his mind once more. He hardly knew what idea she had formed in her mind, but she hadn't even let him in to apologise, or to let him offer to escort them to visit the Bennets. He hadn't known how else to attempt to reduce the ire directed towards him except to come - for he had no doubt that Miss Elizabeth would have found some reason to blame him had they both failed to visit.
He turned back to the room. He had been blamed for being rude and arrogant, and it suddenly occurred to him how his own actions must seem to those in the room - how often had Mr Bingley teased him about the very same? And yet he had never paid that mind - he had forgotten how often there was truth buried in almost every strain of light-hearted jest.
Bingley and Miss Bennet would hardly have noticed his departure from conversation - they could hardly keep their attention from the other. Darcy couldn't help but notice but even now, Miss Bennet held the slightest blush upon her face. He had been a fool to think her unaffected by his friend - it spoke volumes about her suitability for Bingley that she was so quietly modest. Bingley would not always find himself taken advantage of by her - if he was to decide to pursue his interest of course. Darcy would like to think that he would never be so callous as to interfere with the matter of hearts of others.
"Miss Mary?" His voice came out with more hesitation than he had expected - but he could easily explain that. After all he wasn't entirely certain that that was her name. She was probably the quietest among them - the one who would be least inclined to reply to his poor attempts at conversation, in truth. "May I ask what it is you're reading?"
The girl looked up with a completely shocked expression upon her face. It took her a second to attempt to form an answer, but instead she opted to simply show him the cover of a complex book of philosophy, that Darcy would have rarely even chosen for himself.
"Do you always choose such thoughtful reading?" He found himself intrigued. It seemed such a serious occupation for her, considering her family. Even Miss Elizabeth seemed to have a marked preference for laughter over deep discussions of mankind.
"Do you think it is wrong for a gentlewoman to be interested in such topics?" Miss Mary's voice was quiet but it had a sense of that same argumentativeness that Miss Elizabeth had sometimes used.
"I would never dare think so little of you, when I have spent so much time with your sister, who has more wit and sense than a great deal of the gentlemen with whom I was schooled." Darcy couldn't help but believe that he was revealing too much of himself, but his words seemed at least to assuage Miss Mary's temper. "I was merely wondering if you enjoy the more frivolous literature as well."
"I suppose I do..." The girl's voice - for Darcy struggled to think of her as much more than a girl - became more subdued. "But I do not think it reflects so well on who I am trying to be."
"And what is that?" The conversation was possibly far beyond the scope that he should be taking with a young lady, but he was finding himself far more curious with each word she said. As though the quietest of the Bennets could provide him with insight that no other could.
"I should like to be intelligent." She smiled somewhat ruefully. "For I shall never be as quick and clever as Lizzy - nor as kind as Jane. I suppose that normal accomplishments are my only value." She looked up a little shyly. "I love to play and sing, more than anything - but I fear I do so very ill."
Mr Darcy found himself at a loss as to how to respond, but she seemed perfectly capable of carrying the conversation herself.
"I know that everyone else thinks so too - and that is the worst part. I sit down to play, and I find I have such nerves that my voice becomes hoarse and my fingers tremble and I am utterly incapable of doing anything more than torturing the music I like so well." She paused, as though recollecting who she was, and to whom she spoke. "I read once that practice could help one through such an issue, but it doesn't seem to."
Mr Darcy wondered how often she had a chance to speak about such things to anyone. Certainly he could understand that both the eldest of the Bennet daughters would do almost anything to help their sister, were they to know she had such troubles. Nothing else would fit with the people he was certain that they were.
"My sister, Georgiana, has the same issue. She is rarely induced to play in public - I suppose she does not usually display your courage - but she is always far more comfortable could she hide behind a partner in a duet."
Miss Mary nodded slightly, as though she was accepting his comment. Mr Darcy couldn't help but feel as though she was actually taking his thoughts and advice. "Is that the sister who couldn't come today?"
"Indeed." Mr Darcy found it hard to find much more to say beyond that. "She is my only sister."
"And she was not ill, and yet she chose not to come? And yet you would still come to pay her regards?" Darcy could tell that Miss Mary was probing for information, but there was hardly any way for him to avoid it without seeming rude once more.
"She and I had a disagreement - and she refused to speak to me when I was going to tell her of our departure."
"I have always thought that when arguments turn sour it is almost invariably because of one party or the other being unwilling to listen to the other, so intent are they on their own agenda. If either or both are willing to compromise such things seem to blow over so much faster."
Darcy was saved from the need to reply by the sudden reappearance of both Mrs Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. The latter took one glance at the situation and came over to speak to them, with a not entirely hidden look of discontent spread across her features. There was a pause for a moment as the newcomer took a seat beside her sister, and they all seemed to scramble for a suitable source of conversation. Eventually his own worries won out.
"I hope I have not done anything to cause offence, Miss Elizabeth?" He almost hated the fact that he had felt the need to say as much, even as he was glad that he had.
"No indeed!" The necessity of her speech seemed enough to draw Elizabeth's thoughts back to the present. "My cousin just found it necessary to ask me what I thought of some flowers, and then proceeded to wax on about the same for a good while, never even letting me speak at all."
"He is not a bad conversationalist when he is steered onto the correct topics." Mary remarked softly, even as she lifted her book once more.
Strangely she seemed to have forgotten about it as she spoke of to Mr Darcy. Elizabeth had tried to hide her shock at such an occurrence, but she hadn't been entirely certain that she had been successful. She had always struggled to stay in conversation with her sister. How could it be that Mr Darcy - who had hardly managed to put five words together in her presence without infuriating could draw out her own sister?
"I would much rather that he spoke to you. You both seem to gain enjoyment from the pursuit." Mary smiled slightly at the remark, an expression Elizabeth had always associated with her elder sister more than any of the others.
"And yet, still you have captured his attention." Mary was obviously fighting to avoid sounding bitter, and instead it was almost as though Elizabeth found herself speaking to another version of herself. She wished there was something she could say.
Mrs Bennet's loud voice cut into their conversation - and that of Mr Bingley and Jane - suddenly insisting that the gentleman must stay and share a meal with them. Mr Bingley was quick to excuse them, admitting that they had likely neglected their sisters for too long.
Mary was quick to sink back into her book and Elizabeth found herself alongside Jane as they bid their visitors farewell - technically her mother was there too, but since she seemed to be too busy bemoaning their impending absence - only restrained just enough for it to be acceptable in society - the chore of watching them off was left to the elder sisters.
"I must thank you for taking the time to talk to Mary, so few people seem to." Darcy found himself more than a little taken aback by her remark. He couldn't be sure, but he thought it was one of the first times she had chosen to actually smile at him.
"She reminds me of my sister in truth." He admitted quietly. And he couldn't help but to turn over her comments in his head. Had he truly been ignoring Georgiana's own thoughts? It was possible, much as he would like to believe otherwise. "And I am sure she would be most disappointed to have failed to meet you."
"Well then," Miss Elizabeth's smile only brightened. "You must remind her that she is always welcome."
Darcy couldn't believe how easy it was to reconstruct that smile afterwards. Were it not for his sister's admiration for her, he was certain that he would have to get himself as far away from Miss Elizabeth as possible. It was hard to make himself believe that he wasn't in danger of becoming attached to a woman, who would never accept him even were the world ending, and he the last choice.