Ta da! The "Chapter a Day" challenge continues successfully. Okay, it's after 2 am, but my day hasn't ended, so it counts!

Thank you, as always, for all the lovely comments and support. Each and every one of you is awesome.

Chapter Fourteen

It was an innocent gesture, Darcy laying his hand on hers—gentlemen pressed ladies' hands to comfort them all the time—but somehow this touch felt like something more to Elizabeth.

Something almost … intimate.

Disturbed by the feeling, and the warmth it had generated in her cheeks, she had drawn her hand away and looked down at her plate, resolutely avoiding Darcy's gaze for a full minute or two while she regained her composure. When she felt steady again, Elizabeth asked him,

"Have you any ideas for activities in town that the children might enjoy, aside from museums and parks?"

Darcy chuckled. "It is amusing you should ask, Lady Stashwick, for on Tuesday I joined my cousin Theodore in attending his son Anthony to his first fencing lesson. When I told Clara what our excursion was about, she asked me if I would consent to her learning the sport as well. She also asked if she might learn archery, as Lady Charlotte has told her that it is for girls as well as boys. An experienced teacher is to come to Darcy House tomorrow to begin teaching Clara to fence, though I have told her we must wait until we return to Pemberley for her to begin learning archery, as there are no places for her to learn here in town."

Elizabeth glanced with some surprise across the table at Clara, then back at Darcy. "Archery I can understand—I learned myself when I was a girl, though I've had little time for it since I became a mother. But fencing?"

Darcy glanced at Clara, who was eating and chattering away with Prudence, then looked back to her with a smile. "I confess that I thought much the same—that fencing was not exactly an activity that young ladies ought to learn. However, Clara made a very convincing argument that I could not rebut."

Elizabeth was intrigued by this. "Did she really? And pray, what did Miss Darcy have to say that convinced you?"

"If a lady has no gentleman to defend her, she must defend herself."

A smile graced her lips. "That is indeed a sound argument. From wherever did such a little girl come by the idea?" Elizabeth asked.

Darcy scoffed. "From my sister."

She had to laugh. "That does sound like something Lady Winterbourne would say."

Elizabeth then tipped her head as she looked at him. "Is it not strange, Mr. Darcy, that I became acquainted with you first, but it is your dear sister Georgiana that I know better?"

"It is a little strange, I agree," said her host with a smile. "But we are remedying that oversight now, are we not?"

"We are, sir," she agreed. "As to those activities you mentioned, I imagine my boys would be delighted to learn fencing, and I think Isabella might like archery—it really is unfortunate that there are no clubs in town for ladies to learn the sport. Or any sport, really. They can only be taught in the country, and there are so many interesting sports—like fencing—that it is foolishly considered unladylike for a girl to learn. I was surprised when you mentioned it, but also delighted for Miss Darcy. I certainly would have liked to learn fencing. You are an indulgent father, Mr. Darcy. I believe your daughter is very fortunate to have you."

Darcy smiled, flashing his dimples again; Elizabeth fought not to allow them to affect her.

"You are very kind to say so, Lady Stashwick," said he. "And as it so happens, the master who is coming to meet with Clara is a lady. Her father is an instructor at Squire's who informed me he taught both of his daughters—Mr. Niles is to accompany his daughter tomorrow. He said that fencing is both an elegant sport and suitable exercise for ladies, though he admitted his opinion may be in the minority. Miss Niles wishes to open a club for ladies, if she can solicit enough interest."

"That sounds delightful!" Elizabeth cried softly. "Oh, I would absolutely and gladly join such a club with my girls, if they take an interest in the sport. It would be grand if a building large enough to include a room for archery could be found, as then it might draw in a larger clientele."

"A larger clientele?" spoke up Mary. "May I ask what you are talking of, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth quickly explained what she and Darcy had been discussing, and as she spoke, the attention of the older children was drawn. The boys all expressed an interest in learning fencing, Isabella said she thought archery might be fun, and Mary agreed that such a club for ladies would be delightful.

"Also practical," she added. "After all, do gentlemen not have rather a large number of clubs in the city for sport and gaming? Why should women not have the same opportunities for socializing with like-minded persons outside of their drawing rooms and salons?"

"Forgive me, Lady Winstead," said Darcy, "but are not tea rooms a preferred gathering place for ladies outside of their drawing rooms and salons?"

"That may well be, Mr. Darcy," Mary countered, "but that might also be because they have not sporting clubs or gaming clubs such as men have. And are not men also allowed in the tea rooms—whereas ladies are not allowed in the men's clubs?"

Elizabeth glanced at Darcy to find him looking upon her sister with no little amount of surprise—as well as admiration. He was impressed by Mary's argument, and she could not help but cheer silently at this little victory for the sister whom she knew their host would once have dismissed as weak-minded and insipid.

After a moment, Darcy chuckled. "I concede the point to you, Lady Winstead," he told her.

"Mr. Darcy, do I overstep the boundary of our budding friendship to ask if I might bring the boys again tomorrow to meet these fencing masters?" Elizabeth asked.

The brilliance of his smile gave her an inkling that he had been hoping she would ask, and again Elizabeth fought the warm feeling that filled her breast to see such a smile directed at her—or such happiness at the prospect of seeing her again.

"Not at all, Lady Stashwick. I should be delighted to have you come, and I am fairly certain that Mr. and Miss Niles would welcome the opportunity to entice additional clients."

"The boys, at least, can also be taken to Squire's, if I'm not mistaken," Elizabeth said then. "But without their father or one of my brothers to attend them, I shall have to ask one of their elder cousins. Perhaps Theo would be willing, as he has introduced Anthony to the sport."

"And if Miss Niles ever gets to start a club for ladies," said Mary, "perhaps she will be willing to teach young boys as well, so that their mothers can escort them to lessons."

"In my case especially, that would be ideal," Elizabeth said. She looked again to Darcy and added, "Thank you, sir, for your generosity in allowing me to invite myself and the boys to your home again."

Darcy smiled again, though it was a softer smile. She could handle the softer smiles without feelings she was not prepared—or willing—to address creeping up on her.

"Think nothing of it, Lady Stashwick," he replied. "It will be good for Clara to interact with the boys as well as her new female friends, and you and I will be able to further our acquaintance."

"Do you think you can handle another dose of me, Mr. Darcy? It will be four times in one week we have been in each other's company," Elizabeth said over her teacup.

Darcy chuckled. "I am certain I have the constitution, my lady. If I can withstand two weeks in the home of my aunt over a holiday, I am sure I can endure a fourth encounter in one week with you."

Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, but it is an unfair comparison! Lady Disley is more formidable than I am. Her presence is more imposing, whereas I am merely opinionated and impertinent."

"Ten years as a marchioness, and you still have no idea that you command the attention of the entire room when you walk into it?" Darcy asked her, then he sat straighter and blinked, as though just realizing what he had said.

Elizabeth, for a moment, was frozen with her teacup halfway to her lips. The compliment not only surprised her by its kindness, but also that Darcy—who had not seen her in four years and had interacted with her rarely in the years prior—could feel such a sentiment was astonishing.

She set her cup down on its saucer and cleared her throat delicately. "You are very kind to say so, Mr. Darcy, but commanding attention and being formidable and imposing are very different things."

Darcy also cleared his throat. "You make up for that deficiency by being opinionated and impertinent, I daresay."

The bubble of tension that had so suddenly surrounded them burst, and Elizabeth had to laugh. "I suppose that I do, sir."

When the food was gone and the children's bellies were full, everyone said their goodbyes to Clara and Darcy and piled into the two carriages to go home again.

"Did you enjoy your game with Mr. Darcy, Harry?" Elizabeth asked.

"It was good, but he didn't play very well," Harry replied. "His thoughts kept wandering."

"That doesn't sound like the Mr. Darcy I know," Elizabeth observed.

Harry shrugged. "We talked some, too, about papas. He said he still misses his papa sometimes, even though it's been a long time since he died. I think I'll miss my papa forever."

Elizabeth reached across the space between them and grasped her son's hand warmly. "My dear boy, we will all miss him forever. Time, however, will help our hearts to hurt less—and in years to come, when we think of him, we will not always be sad."

Harry smiled weakly, then turned his gaze out of the sideglass, and they were silent for the rest of the ride back to Stashwick House, as Isabella seemed unusually contemplative, and Margaret was dozing against her mother's side.

Elizabeth saw the children to their rooms on their arrival at home and left them in the care of the nurse and Mr. Owens to close herself away in her own room. She needed some time alone, time to relax and make some sense out of the muddled mess her thoughts and emotions had become. After pacing a for a minute or two, she decided a hot bath might help ease the tension tightening her shoulders.

A quarter of an hour later, she was in the bathing room and lowering herself into a steamy tub of water scented with lavender and bergamot. Elizabeth slid under the water until her shoulders were below the surface—though her knees popped up above it like two little island hills—and laid her head back with her eyes closed. Breathing in the fragrant scent of the oils in the water at last began to soothe her, opening up her mind to all her myriad wonderings.

Mr. Darcy was no longer the haughty, proud man she had met ten years ago. The one she had met last week and been in company with twice since was proving to be most amiable. And she liked that, truly she did. She liked that someone—she could not seriously allow herself to entertain the belief that her reproofs had been the impetus of his transformation—had inspired him to take a good look at himself and make adjustments to his manner, which had clearly led to his being more agreeable.

This new Darcy—new to her, at least—was also charming, and that disturbed her. She did not want to be charmed by him or anyone else. She was still in mourning for her husband, even if society and every one of her acquaintance believed a year was quite long enough to grieve. She missed Henry—there were times she literally ached for missing him. She missed his laugh, and the twinkle in his eyes when he teased her. She missed his dimpled smile and the grey at his temples which in the last few years had begun to encroach upon his crown. She missed the utter joy in his expression whenever he interacted with the children, and how having little ones when his elder two were grown had made him seem younger than his four-and-fifty years.

Elizabeth missed being a wife. She missed the intimacy of their marriage bed and above all, she missed the simple companionship of a husband's presence in her life. Henry had been her helpmeet as much as she had been his, and she had always taken the most comfort in the simple, everyday goings-on of their life together. Sharing meals. Reading in the same room. Playing with the children. When he would pass through a room and pause to drop a kiss on the top of her head.

Henry Faulkner was everything she could have ever dreamt of in a man. Why would she want another one when she'd already experienced perfection?

Frustration crept into Elizabeth's thoughts as she came back around to thinking that if Mary hadn't brought it up that day at the castle, she never would have contemplated the idea of a second marriage.

No, that was not entirely true. She remembered writing of it in the letter to herself penned before her sister's arrival. But then it had been only a passing thought—a reflection on what society would expect. Lady Jersey had, after all, asked her point-blank if she intended to seek another husband—and if one of the ton's foremost leaders of the social scene could broach the subject at their very first meeting in over a year, what was to stop the whole of them from speculating whether or not she would marry again?

Elizabeth then recalled the conversation she'd had with Isabella the other night, in which her daughter had asked if she thought her papa would be angry if she married again. She'd been truthful when she said that she did not believe he would be. And he wouldn't—Henry had been blessed with a generous heart, and as she had been his second wife, he could hardly blame or begrudge her if she chose to marry again.

But she didn't want to. Of that she was certain … or had been. Elizabeth began to wonder if she ought to reconsider spending much time in the company of this new Mr. Darcy, who had a dimpled smile similar to her beloved husband's. A dimpled smile and a charming manner had won her heart before, when it was complete and open to being captured. Now her heart was damaged by the loss she had suffered—though given her reactions to Darcy that afternoon, no less at risk of being carried away.

A soft knock sounded at the bathing room door, startling Elizabeth. It was followed by Mary's voice.

"Lizzy? Are you well? You've been in there a long time."

It was only in that moment that Elizabeth realized that the water had gone cold. How could she have been so lost in thought that so much time had passed?

"I am quite well, Mary," she called out. "I'll be out in a moment."

Hurriedly, Elizabeth washed her hair and the more essential parts of her body, then she emerged from the tub and stepped across the room to grab a towel and dry herself off. When she had finished, she reached for the shift and wrapper that her maid had left for her, relieved to see that the latter was one of the flannel ones she owned, as she had become a little chilled from washing with cold water.

When she stepped into her bedchamber, she found Mary sitting at the writing desk. "Forgive me," her sister said. "I was just about to leave you a note telling you I'd decided to lie down a while before dressing for our engagement tonight."

"That sounds like a splendid idea, I think I shall do the same," Elizabeth said.

Mary stood and stepped over to her. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked, gazing at her with some concern. "You seemed rather contemplative when we returned home a while ago."

Elizabeth sighed. "I do have some things on my mind, Mary, but it is nothing you need to be concerned about. I am sure a good nap will cure me."

Her sister appeared dubious as to the veracity of her words, but nonetheless nodded and took her leave. Elizabeth then moved to the bed and climbed into it, suddenly too tired to even remove her wrapper. She said a quick, silent prayer for a peaceful sleep, knowing she would need every available ounce of energy to make it through the long dinner engagement ahead of her.

-…-

"You look lovely, Lizzy."

Elizabeth smiled at her sister Jane's words. She and Mary had arrived at Bingley House just a few moments before, and she was relieved at their being the first guests to do so—it would give her some few minutes more to prepare herself for socializing.

The gown she'd chosen was lilac silk overlaid with sheer white chiffon. She had accentuated with simple silver and pearl jewelry. Quite understated, given some of the gowns and jewelry she had acquired over the years of her marriage, but she had not wanted to draw attention to herself. It was enough that her presence at this dinner was likely to be talked of by the gossipy Lady Dornan and Mrs. Hurst.

"Thank you, Jane," Elizabeth replied with a smile. "You look remarkable as well."

Jane smiled. "You are too kind," she replied, before turning her attention to Mary. "And you, my dear sister—that apricot silk suits you very well."

Mary blushed. "Thank you, sister. I agree with Lizzy, you do look beautiful."

"Where is Charles?" Elizabeth asked then.

Jane smiled. "Probably still reading a story to Charlie—our son has his papa wrapped around his little finger."

"Well, we are but the first to arrive. I am sure he will be down any moment," said Elizabeth.

Her sister's husband did not appear until after the next guests—Cate and Stephen—were shown into the drawing room about five minutes later.

"I do beg your pardon for my rudeness in not being present to receive you," Bingley said as he greeted them all warmly. "As you are all parents, I am sure you will sympathize with my plight—when a little boy demands you read him just one more story, how can you possibly refuse?"

Cate grinned at Stephen. "That is you and Nathaniel without a doubt."

He smiled back at her. "And it will be you and our daughter, when we are blessed with one."

"Soon, I hope," Cate replied. "I'm not getting any younger, you know—soon I shall be past the age of bearing children."

"Do not be ridiculous, Cate," Elizabeth admonished her. "Mamma was your age when she bore Lydia, not to mention she was five-and-forty when she birthed John."

Cate sighed. "True enough, Lizzy, but God willing, I shall not have to wait as long as Mamma did to bear my longed-for child!"

Laughter followed her comment, and a moment later, the Hursts were announced. Mrs. Hurst almost immediately latched onto Elizabeth, asking how she had been and what her plans were for the Season as though she had not hidden herself away from the world for a year. Lady Dornan behaved in much the same fashion when she arrived, though to Elizabeth's great relief, both Cate and Jane came to her rescue and directed the sisters' attention to themselves. The next few guests were friends of Bingley's she was little acquainted with—one couple was entirely unknown to her.

Then he arrived. Darcy. And the look of pleasure upon his countenance when his gaze fell on her once again made Elizabeth feel that she was in danger.