A/N: Thanks once again for coming back. I know the posting is all over the place but I can only work with the time I get away from all the other demands of life. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Summary: Darcy tries to make amends & Elizabeth learns something surprising about Darcy.

Track Recommendation: Transformation - The Cinematic Orchestra

A moment or two passed where Elizabeth stared at Darcy who could only do the same as he also seemed to struggle to form words or comprehend how he had found himself in this predicament.

Elizabeth was reminded of the awkwardness following the aftermath of an argument between her mother and father. Her parents would spend days avoiding each other, walking around the house with a tension that always increased if one of them accidentally (as in Elizabeth's case) bumped into the other. Her mother would always dramatically look the other way and double back the way she came even if it rendered her current task useless. Her father on the other hand would simply stop where he was and stare at his mother seeking an opening which would in turn annoy her and continue the cycle. It was always difficult to navigate around her parents while they tried in vain to bridge the gap created. But that was to be expected between a married couple as years of familiarity allowed one to know what to say or do to begin repairing the damage.

However, navigating the aftermath of an argument with one's master was uncharted territory for Elizabeth. So she decided to break the silence by saying "I did not know there was anyone in the kitchen," at the same time that Darcy said "Sorry I was just leaving."

Having spoken over each other they both added "What?" with varying degrees of confusion and embarrassment.

And after a second unsuccessful attempt where they both tried to clarify what the other had said, Darcy put up his hand which stalled any further words from himself or Elizabeth momentarily.

Elizabeth was reminded of their encounter the previous day before their argument, if one was to call it that. Elizabeth remembered that in that moment in time they had even laughed in a shared moment of awkwardness. There was no laughing now.

"Ladies first," said Darcy, bringing Elizabeth back to the moment. Elizabeth could only raise a brow at being addressed as a "lady" by Darcy but she knew enough to recognise that his actions aside, he was a gentleman through and through and addressing her as a lady was one of a myriad of social conventions he could not help but exhibit.

Is he nervous? Elizabeth also wondered as, when Elizabeth took a moment too long to answer, Darcy shifted on his feet and even seemed to be fidgeting with his hands, that is if tapping one's finger on the table could be considered fidgeting.

Elizabeth cleared her throat, uncertain as to when her mouth had suddenly become dry, before she said, "I was only saying that I did not know there was anyone in the kitchen". And feeling the need to defend herself lest Darcy find fault in her being in the kitchens at night and alone, she added, "I was unwell and only needed some tea to -".

"That is not an issue," said Darcy.

Elizabeth met this with another raised brow and noted how his attempt to appease her was a little forced.

"You are welcome to anything in the kitchen," Darcy added with an uncharacteristic flourish of his hand that pointed at the surroundings. He seemed to recognise this too as he immediately lowered his hand and clasped it with the other behind his back in his more characteristic gentlemanly pose.

Bizarre as the scene was there was a strange humour Elizabeth could find in the concept of Darcy being uncertain of himself. He always seemed at ease, in control. He might not be blubbering but the strangeness of his last two statements were all the confirmation Elizabeth needed that he was nervous. She wondered what had transpired between now and their argument the previous morning.

She had expected to meet a Darcy still consumed by his anger that the sight of her would incense him. Perhaps it did, but he was certainly doing a good job of not showing it if that was the case. Elizabeth knew Lady Sybil had promised to intervene but she had not had much faith in his aunt making an argument in her favour. Loath as she was to admit it, she knew that she had crossed a line. And she had hoped to avoid facing the consequences until later in the day. But now here they were.

However, seeing how the last few minutes in Darcy's presence were transpiring Elizabeth was also left wondering just what she was to do with this version of Darcy that was not unleashing his anger as expected.

"Well then I shall leave you to it," said Elizabeth, turning to leave as she was lost for what else to do and desperate to avoid further awkwardness.

"What about your tea?" called Darcy.

If Elizabeth's eyebrows could raise any further into her hairline they would have for she truly felt that now she was in an alternate reality. Not only had her initial statement on wanting tea been said in a rush that she was surprised Darcy heard it, but the fact that he seemed to deem it noteworthy enough to remind her? Now that was truly bizarre.

"My tea?" said Elizabeth. If she felt slightly idiotic in repeating the obvious she did not let it show.

But Darcy in turn seemed to adopt her new method of reaction and raised his own brow. It seemed confusion was an affliction they were both suffering from.

"You said you came down to make some tea? Do not let me stop you," said Darcy. And the earnestness with which he said it had Elizabeth even more desperate to leave. She was used to being blindsided by Darcy but not to the extent to which he was acting in a way that Elizabeth would consider as civil.

"I find I no longer need tea after all," said Elizabeth, attempting to once again retreat from the room. "If you will excuse -".

"Be that as it may, if it is no trouble I would like it if you would join me," said Darcy extending his hand to the chair across from him.

This time Elizabeth's jaw slackened, her lips hanging open for a moment.

"That is if it is not an inconvenience," Darcy quickly added, noting Elizabeth's response.

Elizabeth made a couple of unsuccessful attempts to respond as she cycled through several questions, chief among them being why Darcy was asking her to join him. Elizabeth once again was acutely aware of the strangeness of the situation. What she had imagined happening when they met after the argument compared to the reality was too jarring for her and she took several moments to mull over what the universe was trying to tell her.

Was Darcy asking her to join him so he could analyse and criticise her behaviour the previous day? If that was the case Elizabeth was more than prepared to give him an equal and measured analysis of his own behaviour, consequences be damned.

Or Was it to tell her in his own twisted gentlemanly way that her employment had been terminated? Because she definitely had understood that message when she had overheard his conversation during the assembly.

Or worse, was it to advise her that he would be reporting her conduct to her father? After all, as an unmarried woman, society still viewed her as her father's responsibility even after spending several years working independently and receiving very little financial assistance from her father. One of the senior tutors at the school she had taught in France had threatened her with the same thing in his bid to intimidate her into submitting to his will. Elizabeth had not cowered then and she would not cower now.

As she continued to analyse Darcy, who almost seemed detached from the situation save for the slight shift in his shoulders, the answer came to Elizabeth. And it was far simpler than she expected. Elizabeth realised that in his own way, like soldiers in a battle, Darcy was raising a white flag. Elizabeth saw this call for a truce in all his awkward attempts to be civil, which must have been difficult for it was not characteristic of their interactions and the Darcy she had become accustomed to. But he seemed to be trying to engage her in a way that would not lead to further argument.

In this realisation she also made a further one. Darcy giving her the time to contemplate, difficult as it probably was for him, was his way of giving her a choice. She could either leave without a word, which would be more satisfying and truly indicate that she truly wished to terminate her employment or she could stay and learn the intention behind his invitation.

Elizabeth was reminded of what Charlotte had said before she had departed the previous night. Though Charlotte had supported her in her anger and frustration towards Darcy, Charlotte had also been the voice of reason helping Elizabeth to see her part in contributing to the problems with Darcy. Namely Elizabeth's insistence on being just as stubborn as Darcy, for which Charlotte had reminded her that Darcy's position as the twins' father meant he had more of a say than even she did, justified as her views may be. Elizabeth had not been happy to hear it but she knew Charlotte would never voice such thoughts if she did not believe them.

"I agree Lizzie that he has definitely misstepped and no doubt he needs to apologise, but if the opportunity presents itself for him to apologise, which is a big 'if' considering it is not in the nature of a gentleman to take into consideration the feelings of his subordinate, (at this they had both chuckled), then let him do it in his own way."

When Elizabeth had attempted to argue that she did not expect Darcy to even acknowledge the incident, Charlotte had pressed on.

"I have only known Mr Darcy in a far reduced capacity compared to you but I have a feeling that of all the differences you have had, this time around he will want to set things right. If not to allow for you to retain your position comfortably, which he should as you are a brilliant asset for his children, then it will be to absolve himself."

So reflecting on her friend's words of wisdom Elizabeth did not say anything but begrudgingly proceeded to the seat Darcy had proffered, hesitantly sitting down without taking her eyes off Darcy who looked at her with a guarded expression. She was reminded of the animal exhibit she had seen during her time in France where animal and keeper would warily circle each other uncertain as to who would strike first. She oddly felt like the animal in this scenario.

Instead of taking a seat, Darcy turned to the work benches behind him and retrieved a kettle, filling it with water from the multiple jugs of fresh water stored in the kitchen for ease of access by the servants. Pemberley was one of the few homes which pumped water into particular rooms into the house including the scullery but the cook, Mrs Price preferred having the water stored in the main kitchen area instead of constantly going to the scullery.

Showing a familiarity and adeptness Elizabeth was surprised he had, Darcy proceeded to start the fire which gave function to the brick stove. He fed more charcoal into the stove, used a bellow to stock the fire and placed the kettle over the trivet.

It was only when Darcy paused in his ministrations, turning around to face her that Elizabeth realised she had simply been staring while he had moved around the room. To say she was shocked was an understatement. The last thing she had expected was for Darcy to undertake the task of boiling the water without summoning a servant and to have knowledge of how to operate a stove!

She knew men could cook, many great houses hired male cooks, she had observed some of the male tutors in France preparing basic meals for themselves when the resident cook was away and she had even observed her own father daring to assist the cook at Longbourn on the rare occasions he remembered to spoil her mother.

So it was not the sight of a man undertaking the task that intrigued Elizabeth but rather that it was unnatural to Darcy's station in life to be doing so. Unfair as her assessment was, Elizabeth had always reasoned that men like Darcy would only be aware of the kitchens for the sole purpose of understanding the layout of the estate. And watching Darcy effortlessly move around the space, she had to fight the urge to ask how he knew his way around a kitchen even if it was only to boil water.

Bizarre was not enough to describe how this night had eventuated.

As if he had read her mind Darcy levelled her with a look that challenged her to ask the questions bouncing around her head. When Elizabeth remained uncharacteristically quiet, for she really did not know where to begin with her questions, Darcy sighed resignedly and said, "When my mother was pregnant with Georgiana, she suddenly became fond of a late night cup of tea. With milk and honey. Half a teaspoon to be exact," There was a slight uptick to his mouth as he recalled the memory. "So to keep her company I would come down and watch her make it. She insisted that no servants should help. It was only in the last few years that I have found myself needing a cup in the late hours of the night. And like my mother, instead of troubling the servants, I make it myself."

It was not lost to Elizabeth that light-hearted as he was attempting to make the memory, this was the most open that Darcy had attempted to be in her presence. He almost looked nervous despite the casual way he was standing, arms crossed over his chest. And though his statement left her with more questions than answers, as she could not help connecting the conversation she had overheard about his nightmares to his need for tea late in the night, she could only say, "You did not have to do all that, sir,".

She now felt slightly embarrassed at having him seemingly serving her. If it was his way of making amends the experience was certainly not as enjoyable as she had imagined. It was rather uncomfortable and Elizabeth regretted her decision to stay.

"Your mother sounds like a lovely woman," said Elizabeth when Darcy remained silent standing next to the stove.

Once again he did not respond but he proceeded to take the seat he had been previously occupying, milk glass now sitting forgotten. Thankfully his chair was not directly across from her, preventing the awkwardness that would have ensued if they had to face each other directly. But this only slightly made the situation bearable.

Elizabeth had decided to fix her eyes on the stove behind Darcy but from her periphery she could still see Darcy looking in her direction which was compounded by the heavy weight she now felt at being stared at. Under his gaze, Elizabeth suddenly felt aware of how she was dressed and she resisted the urge to fidget with her gown which she knew more than preserved her modesty. When she braved a look in his direction nothing about his expression indicated to her what he might be thinking but she was reminded of their earlier encounter. Not the argument, though she could not forget that, but the tail end of their argument when he had looked like he wanted to kiss her.

Not wanting to dwell too much on that particular moment and needing to fill the uncomfortable silence with something she said, "The water might be a while". This did little to distract her from the warmth she did not want to attribute the source of though she definitely knew the small fire from the stove could not have caused it.

"Mrs Cook stores the best charcoal for the fire, it should not be too long." If Darcy had said this to reassure her, Elizabeth did not feel reassured. Only more on edge since she could not predict what Darcy would say that might trigger her to respond in a manner that would break their tenuous truce.

The silence stretched for a few moments longer until Elizabeth resolved that she would depart and not cause herself further grief. But at the moment she started rising from her seat saying "Perhaps, I should -", Darcy also said, "Did they truly enjoy it when I was away?"

Darcy had not spoken loudly, he had almost spoken as if he was testing out the question but nonetheless Elizabeth had heard him. Pausing midrise, Elizabeth now truly looked at Darcy. Earlier she thought she had figured out the reason for his odd behaviour but she now allowed herself to look, not with the intention of judging but with the intention of understanding. Understanding how difficult uttering that question was for someone who believed they were in control of everything.

Elizabeth was ashamed at her earlier thoughts about the way he had been looking at her. The realisation that all this time he had been trying to find a way to start the conversation was sobering.

She took her seat once more keeping her eyes on Darcy who was observing his fingers with greater interest. For the first time she noticed that he wore his wedding band. That triggered more questions but she pushed those out of her mind in favour of focusing on the present question that Darcy had posed.

Elizabeth was once again faced with two choices. She could furnish the truth with a lie and tell Darcy that she had only said that in the heat of the moment. Or she could tell him the truth, which would most likely result in an argument, but this would also be her way of honouring her duty to Archie and Rosie who she wanted to have a better relationship with their father.

She looked away from Darcy and once again fixed her eyes on the stove. She cleared her throat and said, "Your children love you very much, sir." She cast a furtive glance towards Darcy who was still looking at his hands. Good start, Lizzie, she thought, but here goes nothing. "However, I cannot deny that while you were in London they were more engaged in their lessons."

Darcy audibly inhaled and could not meet Elizabeth's eyes. Elizabeth also held her breath as if she was frozen in time with him. The crackling of the fire was the only sound Elizabeth could hear for a few moments until Darcy released the breath he had been holding. This did not prompt Elizabeth to do the same as she was still waiting for the axe to come down when Darcy voiced his thoughts.

"Georgiana believes we can reach a compromise regarding their lessons," Darcy finally said, and Elizabeth felt it was safe to breathe.

The work they needed to do for the benefit of the children would surely lead to one too many compromises which Elizabeth did not look forward to but, she also recognised that a start was better than nothing. So instead of scoffing at the idea of her and Darcy working together for a common good, Elizabeth said, "Miss Darcy is very wise."

She still could not believe that she was having this conversation as the night had not at all gone according to plan even though that plan had only been to come to the kitchens for a refreshment. Still she was choosing to simply embrace whatever came.

Darcy nodded. "Now might not be the best time to speak of the particulars but perhaps we can meet on-" Darcy paused to make a mental calculation which was most likely to figure out when their next meeting was due. With the events of the last couple of days, Elizabeth was not surprised he needed a moment to remember what day it was, "Wednesday."

"Am I to understand that my employment is not terminated?"

Darcy looked at her with a hint of surprise and annoyance. It was impossible for Elizabeth to not point out the glaring fact that she had been ostensibly dismissed. It was also impossible for Elizabeth to ignore that Darcy had been effectively avoiding any talk on the subject.

"We both acted in haste, do you not think?"

"I only reacted to the inevitable," Elizabeth could feel some of that fire that had lay dormant slowly rising within her.

Not to be outdone Darcy said, "I believe there were more appropriate methods of reacting."

And now effectively geared for the ensuing argument Elizabeth said "Appropriate? Pray do tell, sir, what is the appropriate way of responding to the news that I will be losing my position?

"Firstly, it is not news if the source is a conversation you overhear and come to your own conclusions. Secondly, you could simply have asked me about the whole affair which could have led to less dramatics," Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

This only served to incense Elizabeth who leaned forward slightly to emphasise her counter argument, "Come to my own conclusions? I recall you were already making plans with Mr Thorpe to seek a replacement. And to say that I could have asked you!" Elizabeth let out a humorless chuckle, "Did you not just say that I overheard the conversation? How would I have been able to come and ask you for information pertaining to a conversation I overheard when we both are aware of how you would have reacted?"

Darcy scoffed and was selective in his response though Elizabeth knew she had leveled him with various points he could not deny. But Darcy chose to deflect. "Oh yes, you are always accidentally overhearing other people's conversations", said Darcy sarcastically. "But we can talk about that another time. At present I think we can agree to disagree that there was a better way for you to approach me about what you heard that did not need to involve you cornering me while my guests were still present."

Elizabeth looked at Darcy disbelievingly, and with her anger rising she could only manage an indignant, "Are we really arguing about the appropriateness of what I did considering you made the decision long before and gave me no choice but to act in my best interests? I was only trying to make a dignified exit!"

"Miss Bennet, I warn you. I am trying here and I do not have time-".

Darcy never finished his sentence as there was a rattling noise emanating from the stove. They both realised after a moment that the source was the lid of the kettle which was now sitting precariously as the water threatened to boil over.

Both parties moved towards the stove which Darcy reached first however, upon placing his hand on the kettle to lift it he quickly withdrew his hand cursing out loud. Elizabeth realised he had forgotten the golden rule of handling cookware and had handled the kettle without a cloth for protection.

Elizabeth took over the task of moving the kettle, with a cloth this time, and she placed it on the workbench. She did not worry about the fire which would die a natural death.

She then turned her attention to Darcy to see how he was faring. He had his burnt hand clenched into a tight fist and was trying to locate something, presumably something to use to submerge his hand. The jugs of water were too narrow at the neck for him to successfully do that. He would occasionally shake his hand to relieve some of the pain that Elizabeth knew would be unbearable. Elizabeth felt compelled to ask, "May I be of any assistance sir?"

She was surprised at her own concern considering a moment prior she had been tempted to rip out her hair in frustration at Darcy's behaviour.

"Do not concern yourself, I have dealt with worse," said Darcy though the hiss that followed hinted otherwise.

Elizabeth ignored Darcy's attempt at nonchalance and moved to retrieve a dish. Darcy may have been familiar with the equipment and ingredients required to make tea but she was more familiar with the layout of the kitchen and she knew where Mrs Price stored everything. Settling on a shallow dish she set it on the table along with a jug of water.

"I insist on helping nonetheless," said Elizabeth. "Please sit, some cold water could do you good."

Darcy looked like he wanted to argue but upon meeting Elizabeth's measured gaze, he begrudgingly swallowed whatever he had been about to say and moved to sit at the table once more.

"Lower your hand, palm up into the dish," instructed Elizabeth.

She was rather enjoying commanding him around considering he was always the one giving the commands. She was also grateful for the distraction from their argument.

It had been a while since she had treated someone with a burn but the little she knew courtesy of the apothecary in Meryton was that cold water did wonders to a burn. Meryton's apothecary might not have access to as much knowledge as the surgeons and physicians in London but his experience dealing with everyday ailments, including burns, meant that his remedies were always more effective as they had been tested and proven on many who were none the wiser. One such remedy was how the slow release of water onto the burn would be more effective than simply submerging the hand in water.

Which was what Darcy, by his next statement, obviously thought was best.

"Aren't you going to pour the water first?" asked Darcy, still feeling the need to argue even while under immense pain.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and simply reached for Darcy's elbow to direct his hand into the dish. She missed the way his eyes cut to the contact made by her hand. And it was after a moment of waiting for him to open his palm that she looked at him, saw where his gaze was directed and quickly let go of his arm. She hoped the heat she felt did not manifest in a blush around her cheeks or neck.

Darcy did not say anything to acknowledge the moment but as he slowly opened his palm, which bore a very angry looking red imprint, he could not resist adding bitingly, "All this is not necessary, I can always consult Doctor Moore for treatment."

"And when will you be seeing this Doctor Moore exactly?" Elizabeth challenged.

Darcy ignored her question and instead said unnecessarily, "He has treated family members and servants for burns before."

"I have no doubt Doctor Moore will do wonders but at present if you do not take care of this burn, you will not be able to use your hand for some time."

In response, Darcy looked away, a muscle visibly ticking along his jaw. Elizabeth took this as a form of consent. But annoyed as Darcy may have been, after Elizabeth poured the first few drops of water on his hand, Darcy's shoulders visibly relaxed and he closed his eyes, no doubt enjoying the reprieve from the pain.

Elizabeth resisted the urge to smile. Even with their differences she could relate to the very human reaction of bliss and relief when one's pain was alleviated. She settled into the silence which was less tense as some of the heat from their argument had seeped out due to the unfortunate mishap.

Elizabeth found a steady rhythm as she poured the water, firmly holding the stem of the jug with one hand and steadying the base with the other. To maintain the flow, she was forced to look at Darcy's hand and took some time to analyse said hand. Even when marred by a scar, his hand still bore the elegance of one who had engaged in minimal labour. There were no calluses or odd scars to signify that he had done more than handle trivial items such as pens or cutlery.

Despite this, Elizabeth remembered how strong his hands had felt while suspending her from the ground on her first day when she had ill advisedly decided to play that piano. She had never taken time to ponder on that moment aside from the embarrassment the moment always induced, but now that she reflected she could distinctly remember the way his hands locked around her upper arms. Firm but not painful, certain of the effectiveness of their grip. Her memory did not allow her to remember anything more regarding how his hands actually felt but from the smoothness of his uninjured skin, Elizabeth imagined his hands would be soft.

Beware Lizzie, you are treading on dangerous ground.

Elizabeth visibly shook her head cursing her mind for its traitorous thoughts. The man whose hands she was spending time thinking about had been the cause of so much of her misery and had once again been on the verge of insulting her if it had not been for the kettle. And in some twisted sense of humor the universe seemed to enjoy subjecting her to she was now helping him! There was no time for traitorous thoughts.

As the jug emptied she placed it on the table and absentmindedly took hold of Darcy's arm once more to direct him to turn his hand over so that it could sit more comfortably within the water. This time, along with holding just above his elbow, Elizabeth also slotted her hand around his wrist to make the motion of turning his hand less awkward.

"That should do it. You can keep it submerged for some minutes, after which we can assess to see if you can leave it open or we wrap it in a clean cloth. It should help your Doctor Moore to treat you."

Elizabeth was so engrossed in the task at hand that she missed that Darcy was once again staring at her hand where it was making contact with his wrist. Unaware of the placement of her arm, she was on the verge of asking him his thoughts on how to treat the burn when she turned to him and noticed his eyes were now firmly trained on her face.

At first she thought he was still annoyed at her assistance and felt like challenging him that at the very least she deserved some gratitude. But the longer she held his gaze she became uncertain as to her deduction that he was irritated with her. For one thing although his eyes were a shade darker than their usual cool blue Darcy's scrutiny at this time did not involve its usual squinting and stoicness but rather his face was as relaxed as she had ever seen it.

Darcy's eyes were not holding hers in a bid to intimidate, rather it felt like an invitation or maybe a question? To what, Elizabeth was uncertain. But his eyes skimmed across her face as if Darcy was trying to figure her out as one would a puzzle with a piece that did not fit with the others.

Elizabeth was reminded of the moment in the greenhouse when Darcy had leaned too close and she had been intrigued that if he had leaned a fraction more they might have kissed. Her eyes glanced at his lips as he did likewise and when their eyes met, Elizabeth could only conclude that perhaps Darcy was also reliving the same moment.

She broke eye contact for a moment and glanced down to where her hands were connecting with his arm. She was not sure what compelled her to continue to hold onto him even loosely as she seemed to be. It could only be a strange force as naturally she would have retracted quickly offering a plethora of apologies for her lack of propriety.

And it could be her imagination but she could feel heat emanating from the points of contact. As if sensing the same thing, Darcy looked down again and then slowly returned his eyes to her. And though Elizabeth could rationalise that the low light of the kitchen played a part in affecting her vision, she did not miss how his eyes were now indistinguishable from the blue of a night sky.

"I apologise sir, I did not know you were in the kitchen," said Mrs Reynolds coming to a halt at the entrance.

Elizabeth let go of Darcy's arm unceremoniously as if she was the one who had now been burned and moved away from him slightly to create distance. The heat she could still feel from where her hands had been placed a moment before and her heart rate betrayed her attempts to act calm and collected. She was glad Darcy and the newly arrived Mrs Reynolds did not have the ability to hear heartbeats.

Fortunately, Mrs Reynolds did not seem to notice the interaction as she was fumbling with the bundle of keys in her hand. Mrs Reynolds always saw it fit to be the first one up to unlock doors and oversee the duties of the housemaids. Comprising as the scene might have been, Elizabeth could not be more grateful in that moment for Mrs Reynolds' dedication. Elizabeth was not certain what might have happened if not for the interruption.

"You are not at fault Mrs Reynolds," said Darcy pausing to clear his throat. "I was silly enough to decide to make myself a cup of tea and in the process I burnt myself." Darcy raised his hand out of the water to indicate his injury.

"Dear Me!" said Mrs Reynolds, abandoning her war with the keys and moving closer to the table to investigate the extent of Darcy's injury.

Darcy continued, "Miss Bennet just happened upon me not too long ago and she was assisting me with treating the burn."

Mrs Reynolds briefly glanced at Elizabeth who could only offer a weak smile. As Mrs Reynolds fussed over Darcy's hand, Elizabeth was left with the realisation that Darcy had lied. And this was coupled with the realisation that the lie was designed to protect her by furnishing the truth of their encounter. Regardless of the facts, mainly that she had in fact happened upon Darcy and they had only talked (if their verbal sparring could be simply described as that), Mrs Reynolds had found them in a much more intimate position than Elizabeth would have liked. And if the truth were to be known, it would paint a different, less flattering picture regardless of what they had done prior to Mrs Reynolds' arrival. Elizabeth was surprised that Darcy chose to fabricate the truth which saw no benefit for him other than not having his servants whispering behind his back.

"Miss Bennet, I believe Mrs Reynolds can take over. I apologise for inconveniencing you," said Darcy, effectively dismissing her as if the last half an hour had not happened. But before she could turn to leave he added, "And do remember our meeting on Wednesday. In the meantime the children are looking forward to your lessons."

Elizabeth could only nod and stare at Darcy whose expression was unreadable. In adding this statement Darcy was ensuring Mrs Reynolds, who no doubt was part of Pemberley's grapevine, could hear and ensure that any rumours concerning Elizabeth's position were put to an end. Though Elizabeth herself knew that she was far from settled - she and Darcy had not been able to have as civil a discussion as she would have hoped - Elizabeth was grateful that in regards to educating his children Darcy seemed to be willing to make a change.

Reflecting on this, she had so many questions now about the different turns in his character over the last couple of days. But all this served to do was induce a headache and she knew that when she finally slept she might not wake up for some time yet.

Even though it was not necessary given that Darcy was now distracted by Mrs Reynolds who was asking him about trying different tonics, Elizabeth curtsied and turned, making for the exit. She cast one more wary glance over her shoulder and met Darcy's eyes which looked at her with a guarded expression.

A/N: There is a long way to go for E & D to even be on the same page but had to start somewhere. But please know that this isn't all that will be dedicated to repairing a relationship they effectively never had (hahaha).

Also I enjoyed playing around with some of the tension but boy is it hard to delve into this aspect of their relationship. When reading other fics it's like some people were born to write UST. But hopefully y'all enjoyed. I am still on my training wheels so each chapter is just pushing me to do better.

Also if anything to do with the burns treatment or kitchen layout seemed modern/ anachronistic/ off, please know that it was the best way for me to get through the scene without getting bogged down in the nitty gritties. But I now know way too much about burn treatment and Georgian style kitchens that I might be able to run a class on the subject (hahaha).

See you next time!