Copyright 2023 Elizabeth Frerichs
Cross-posted on elizabethfrerichs dot com and wattpad
Day 35/7-40/12
The six days that followed were like something out of a dream for Darcy. He could not recall when he had last enjoyed his life so much. Miss Elizabeth's quest to find Miss Engel caused her to study the windows of each shop on the street, and they went into several shops every day, dragging the group into any number of places Darcy would never have dreamed of entering. After all, why would he be seen in a milliner's shop, particularly without Georgiana? Yet, he had gone into the milliner's, looked at the hats, (and missed Georgiana), and spoken to the proprietor about the benefits of small-town millinery.
In fact, now that he had begun applying Miss Elizabeth's suggestions for small talk, he had begun to dread it much less. It was easy enough to ask about a person's hobbies, and they were more than content to steer the conversation with only minimal input from him.
More than that, he found himself actually interested. Miss Elizabeth had begun a kind of game where they guessed what a person's hobbies might be before he asked about it. A smile spread over his lips as he recalled their exchanges—as they looked through a shop's window, if someone was visible, they would each list their guesses in a low murmur. Once Mr. Collins had noticed and once Miss Bennet had heard them, but other than that, they had avoided detection.
During the afternoons, Miss Elizabeth visited her tenants and Darcy rode the surrounding areas, looking for Miss Engel and generally enjoying the sunshine and lack of responsibilities.
The only dark spot was the hatred that shot through him every time he saw Wickham. He would have expected that exposure might dull the strength of his response; it did not. Some days, the hatred was hot, and it was only having Miss Elizabeth nearby that kept him from throttling Wickham. Some days, it was so cold that he was surprised he had not methodically ruined the man's life or even plotted murder, despite Miss Engel's admonishment.
Either way, he was glad that Miss Elizabeth was nearby every time he saw Wickham. It was not anything that she said or did—simply her presence reminded him to keep his wits. He might glare at Wickham and wish that the man would simply up and die on his own, but he did not seek Wickham out, nor did he ever lose control around the man.
Evenings were spent at Mrs. Phillips's house with Miss Elizabeth. She was—he had been afraid to spend too much time with her and had even told himself that, now that she knew about the repetitions, he would have to be doubly guarded. But his resolve never lasted past seeing her.
If only she had been born a member of the ton. A week had not been sufficient to collect a surfeit of her presence—in fact, every day spent with her left him wishing for more. In fact, a part of him was thrilled by Miss Engel's continued absence; he had laughed more in the past six days than he had since his mother's death. And tomorrow would finally be their rest day, and Elizabeth had agreed to spend the entirety of it with him.
A/N: Short chapter today to give me a bit of breathing room :) Thanks for reading! And thanks to Emme for beta-ing! As always, please let me know if you see a way to strengthen the story. See you tomorrow!