Author's Note: This is based on the 2005 movie (not the book, which I also love; this fic was just inspired by the movie).

This is not a groundbreaking fic, since the dialogue is primarily from the movie. Yet a rewatch of the scene where Darcy and Elizabeth see each other unexpectedly at Pemberley left a few things in my mind:
1) Darcy had just reunited with his little sister, then immediately sprinted away
2) In a later scene, Georgiana says Darcy had told her so much about Elizabeth, and I wondered when that had occurred, as I assumed he had not told her *everything*
3) To me, as a modern gal, one of the most foreign and tantalizing aspects of Austen's work is the undercurrent/suppressed passion. All that goes unsaid between the characters until they finally reveal their feelings. As I was watching the scene where Darcy and Elizabeth see each other unexpectedly at Pemberley, I just had to know what Mr. Darcy was thinking, so here is my interpretation!


When Darcy was at last able to return to Derbyshire, it was with great relief.

London did not suit him. He had hoped being away from home might be a suitable diversion from the pain of Miss Elizabeth's rejection and the knowledge of his own misjudgment regarding Miss Jane Bennet's sentiments toward Bingley. This, however, had been yet another miscalculation. Not even the amusements of London had lifted Bingley from his melancholy, and being often subjected to the presence of Miss Bingley had only made Darcy long more acutely for the superior company of Miss Elizabeth.

It had been for naught, and he felt out of place in the city. Pemberley was the only place on Earth where he could feel truly comfortable, and he had been away from it far too long for his liking.

Even worse, he had been away from Georgiana - Georgiana, who adored him more than he deserved, and esteemed him with something of the sentiment reserved for a father.

And so, he would return to Pemberley and to his sister. He would meet with his steward to prepare the home for guests, as BIngley's party was to follow shortly from London. In the interim, however, he would have a moment's respite.

It was true, he knew, that his aspirations might gall him for a time; he had not long resided at Pemberley since realizing Miss Bennet would not be its mistress. Yet his sister's earnest, artless affection - along with the peaceful solitude afforded by Pemberley's woods - were surely the dearest and finest balms for his disappointed hopes.

The grounds could wait; he had spent enough time on horseback or in a carriage to long for the comforts of home. And if he wished to surprise Georgiana, he would have to be expeditious. Asking Mrs. Reynolds to close the house to visitors would simply have to wait.

Once he had entered the house, a soft smile touched his lips as he crept toward the parlor. Soft music alerted him where he would find his sister. She applied herself so dutifully to the pianoforte.

He took great care to keep his footfalls soft. All the same, it took only a moment before she discerned his presence.

Beaming, she threw her arms around him, and he embraced her tightly, laughing with the joy of being reunited with her.

He had only just set her down again when a flock of birds took flight outside the hall window. Instinctively, he turned at the sound. At once, he beheld eyes watching him from the door - in a part of the house where guests had not been permitted to go.

They were her eyes. He could have seen but the briefest glimpse of them anywhere and he would have known them.

Yet she was here - here in his home.

And as soon as he had seen her, she was gone.

He might almost have believed he had imagined the incident, had he not seen the flash of concern in Georgiana's eyes. As far as she knew, their visitor was simply a lost or mischievous tourist.

"Please pardon me," he said, squeezing Georgiana's shoulders reassuringly; "I shall return in a moment."

There was not time to say more; he had had to do something to reassure his sister, but if he waited to explain further, Miss Elizabeth might be gone forever, without any guarantee of his seeing her again.

She had fled with remarkable alacrity, apparently finding the nearest door to make her exit. Darcy's lengthened stride enabled him to catch up with her. Was he so odious to her that she would run from him? He should not be surprisethd, given her reception to his proposal of marriage, and yet he had dared to hope, at least, that the explanations in his letter might allow her to forgive him.

Why had she come - only to flee? It would be ungentlemanly to ask; he must not. Yet he must see her; that, at least, was certain. He would not press his suit again, not when she had made it so clear that it was unwanted. But at least he might see her to reassure himself that she was well, and he dared to hope that her feelings toward him might have at least softened from hatred. threw If she truly did not wish to see him again, why had she come?

"Miss Elizabeth!" he called.

His heart pounded as he watched her halt and turn to face him.

He ought to have called her Miss Bennet, of course; her elder sister was not present to receive that primary form of address, at least not so far as he could tell. He was unaccustomed to seeing Miss Elizabeth without her family - indeed, this was one of precious few times he had been with her alone. The thought struck him, making his chest tighten with the realization that he was not likely to see her alone again, certainly not as he had once dreamed he might.

She had, at least, stopped; she allowed him to close the distance between them until only a few yards remained. He was conscious of her breathing slowing again, his chest tightened guiltily at the thought of her running from him.

"I thought you were in London," she said.

"No... No, I'm not," he managed.

He clenched the lapel of his coat, inwardly chastising himself for his inarticulateness. That, at least, explained why she had fled; she had not truly wished to see him. Why, then, had she come to see his house? Had she wished to see the home that might have been hers? Such a thought did not seem characteristic.

"I had to come back a day early; some business with my steward," he explained.

At the same time, Elizabeth exclaimed, "We would not have come, had we known you were... here."

Feeling the chastisement anew, Darcy folded his hands to occupy himself, his fingers threaded together tightly. He wondered briefly about Elizabeth's party; had Mrs. Bennet perhaps planned the trip to convince Miss Elizabeth to try again for Darcy's hand?

Miss Elizabeth, too kind to prolong his suspense even unwittingly, it seemed, added, "I'm in Derbyshire with my aunt and uncle."

Darcy managed a wordless nod. That might explain Miss Elizabeth's presence at Pemberley without her desire to see its master. The house and grounds were fine enough to interest many curious visitors, and perhaps Miss Elizabeth's relations had insisted upon a tour. The thought was not reassuring to Darcy.

He summoned his manners, which had deserted him only on rare occasions; he would not let them fail him now. "And are you having a pleasant trip?"

"Very pleasant."

Pleased as he was to hear it, Darcy could not help but fear that Miss Elizabeth found the trip rather more pleasant before this encounter.

"Tomorrow, we go to Matlock," she continued.

"Tomorrow?" he repeated.

His gaze fixed upon her. He had just happened upon her again, by the merest chance of his returning early and her believing him still gone, and now he was to be parted from her once more. Perhaps that was her wish, and yet... was it arrogant foolishness to hope that Miss Elizabeth had come to Pemberley because her feelings toward him had softened? Had she seen something in his letter that might enable her to forgive him, to engender some feeling of tolerance, at least, if not of respect or friendship?

"Are you staying at Lambton?" he managed at last. It was the most innocuous conversation he could muster, hoping for another moment of her time.

"Yes, at the Rose and Crown."

Darcy nodded. He knew Lambton well as an area magistrate, and he was familiar with the inn; a respectable establishment, one that would serve Miss Elizabeth and her relations well. "Yes."

He searched her face for a moment, reading it in the hope of seeing some sentiment beyond their pleasantries. He realized that what he saw there was guilt.

"I'm so sorry to intrude," Miss Elizabeth said. "They said the house was open for visitors. I... I-I had no idea..."

Why had she come? Despite the desperate curiosity roiling in him, Darcy would do as he always did: he would do the noble thing.

"May I see you back to the village?"

"No."

The bluntness of her response startled him. He had certainly not intended that they should ride un-escorted in a carriage, for no matter how ardent his feelings for her, because of his respect for her, he would never subject her to such an impropriety. His shock have been evident to Miss Elizabeth, for her addendum sounded rather like an apology:

"I'm very fond of walking."

"Yes. Yes, I know."

He thought of her as he had known her in Hertfordshire, her unfettered spirit taking joy in traipsing freely about the country, her cheeks flushed handsomely with exertion. He was seized with longing for her: a longing that he must not and would not act upon.

Instead, he allowed himself only the pleasure of studying her face for another moment, and then she was curtsying to take her leave.

"Goodbye, Mr. Darcy."

He bowed - relieved, for an instant, to hide his face, fearful of all of the emotions written there.

While Miss Elizabeth strode from sight, Darcy remained as if frozen in place. He was not so arrogant as to think that she might turn back and speak with him once more. Yet he was so stunned by the unexpected encounter, he felt himself quite unable to move. At the very least, he wished to see her returned safely to her party, and so he turned to gaze over the balcony as she made her way to Pemberley's drive and the carriage waiting there.

Shortly, he would return to Georgiana; he would explain his sudden absence so soon after their reunion. However, he needed one more moment to adequately compose himself.

He would not lay upon his young sister's tender shoulders the burden of his foolishness. Whether he refrained out of pride on account of his sister's great respect for him, or whether he wished only to protect her, he could not say, but he certainly hoped it was the latter. Georgiana had endured melancholy enough for her lifetime.

With slower and heavier steps than those with which he had come, Darcy ascended the steps once more. He mustered a smile for Georgiana, who was waiting loyally for him by her pianoforte.

"I pray you will pardon me for absenting myself so hastily," he said. "That young lady was an acquaintance from Hertfordshire."

"Oh!" Georgiana said with unabashed delight, and not a hint of resentment at his sudden departure. "Do tell me which one; I hope I shall remember her from your delightful letters."

"Her name," Darcy said, swallowing the pain of pronouncing of the surname he had wished so dearly to alter to his, "is Miss Elizabeth Bennet."


Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please forgive any mistakes, as I have neither a beta nor adequate sleep at present. I might continue if folks are interested, but I am sure there are lots of other fics with Darcy's perspective on various events in P I just haven't had the pleasure of reading them yet.