In his less guarded moments, Darcy had often imagined what it might be like to have Elizabeth in Pemberley - to have her in his home, in her most comfortable clothes, moving about as if she belonged there. Tonight's encounter branded that image in his mind, indelible and sure. Having had a taste of what it meant to have her in the very heart of his existence, he wondered if he would ever survive another rejection.
But what other choice did he have? From his body's visceral desire for her to his mind's admiration to his heart's yearning - every aspect of his being declared that she was the only woman in the world he would ever choose to marry. And if she still thought him the last man in the world she could ever be prevailed upon to marry, then he would simply have to resign himself to a life of permanent loneliness.
He arrived back in his rooms just before the first servants stirred. His eyes stung from a whole night of waking, but he just might postpone sleep a little longer to remind young David Lunt of locking the masters' rooms properly.
"There you are," a woman's voice greeted him, the tone impatient as ever, when he stepped into the sitting room.
One glance as a frowning Caroline Bingley, dressed in little more than a sleeping gown, perched on a chair in the middle of the room, was enough to chase all his happier or more merciful thoughts away. Darcy folded his arms and glowered.
"I will not ask why you are here, Miss Bingley," he mumbled, "but I will command you to leave my quarters immediately."
"I have waited all night for you," she hissed, still sitting. "I refuse to leave now."
"You are not welcome here."
"You invited us to Pemberley."
"But not to my rooms."
"It is dawn now." She arched her neck, making her look every bit the villainess. "I may run into any servant. They will testify that I was in your room."
"This is not Bingley's town house or even Netherfield. This is not a place where you have any sort of authority, Miss Bingley." Darcy walked towards the door that led to his bedroom. Lest the deranged woman try to enter there, he stood in front of the doorway, blocking it in full. "And even if they were to believe you had spent the night here - "
"I did!"
"They know my character too well to think that it could be anything but a sad misunderstanding."
"You would refuse to act with honor?" She shot to her feet, looking pale and pathetic. "And here I thought you were a gentleman."
"I am." Darcy leveled his glare at her, unrelenting. "But you, Miss Bingley, are no lady."
"You dare insult me?"
"It is a trifle compared to what you think you are attempting to do."
"I will ruin you with rumors. I will force your hand by arranging circumstances to my favor."
"You seem to have an inflated view of your own influence."
"One word in the right ears, and your sister - "
"Do not talk of my sister," he thundered, and Miss Bingley looked genuinely scared for once.
But then she recovered. "If rumor has it that the master of Pemberley compromises his female guests, then even your precious Elizabeth would suffer."
"No, she would not," he said. Then, with an almost mischievous smirk, he added, "She would not, because I would marry her. You, however, would suffer, for I refuse to marry you."
Her scowl grew even uglier. She huffed on her way out the door. "I have waited for you for years, Darcy. I will not be thwarted so easily."
"I am sure you believe so." Darcy stifled a yawn. "But you would be wrong."
With another fiery glare, she marched out the room, making little effort to disguise her presence. Too tired to think any longer of Caroline Bingley, Darcy hauled himself into bed. He would deal with everything later.
It was a little odd to find herself wandering the gardens with the sun closer to the zenith than the horizon, but Elizabeth supposed her late rising was to be expected after having spent the entirety of the night talking with Mr. Darcy. She felt her cheeks warming at the memory as she ran her fingers through the tips of the nearby branches. She had hoped for such a chance to discuss things with him. But never in her wildest imaginations could she have anticipated their conversation last night, conducted with such frank sincerity deep in the heart of his hearth and home.
"Miss Elizabeth," a familiar voice called out as footsteps approached. He did not quite run, but it most certainly sounded like he had hurried to meet her.
Elizabeth turned with a smile. "You catch me trespassing upon your gardens, Mr. Darcy. I do hope you have no intention to turn me out for such a crime."
Her easy response seemed to take him by surprise, and he paused for a moment before flashing a handsome smile. "I would not dare do such a thing. Imagine the scandal if it were made known that Pemberley likes to toss out its visitors."
"And that its master likes to call on young ladies in the middle of the night."
Her comment was meant to tease, but it managed to make him look embarrassed instead. "I apologize, Miss Elizabeth. My behavior last night - "
"Do not fret." She touched a hand to her arm. He stilled, only his eyes darting to hers. "I do not take offense."
He waited a moment before nodding. She removed her hand, more unwillingly than she had expected.
"I thank you for your magnanimity. Such a mistake was unpardonable."
"I suppose one could not be expected to be in possession of one's full faculties when fleeing unwanted visitors."
"Oh, yes." He relaxed enough to smile again, looking rather too dashing for Elizabeth's own good. "I've had to manage such situations before, but I must admit it to be the first time I've had to contend with such advances in my own home."
"It is not the wisest thing."
"Hardly."
"I can understand, perhaps, why women would wish to capture your attention - but surely, they must know that to accost a man in his own home cannot bear any favorable results."
"Some women, I find, are not very logical."
"No, not at all." Elizabeth chuckled. She took a short breath before adding. "I have it on good authority, in fact, that some are irrational enough to insult a man to his face when he proposes."
His voice remained even as he replied, "Perhaps the man deserved it."
"Or perhaps he did not."
"I rather think he did."
"Marginally, perhaps - ever so slightly." Elizabeth smiled and found herself rewarded with an answering smile from him as well.
As odd as their encounter last night had been - it had at least achieved the purpose of placing them upon a more equal ground of friendship. For that, Elizabeth supposed she had Miss Bingley to thank.
"I hope you were able to rest well last night," she said softly when she considered how harrowing it must be to have one's bedchamber intruded upon. If she had been shocked enough as a guest, it must have been utterly unsettling for the master of the manor.
"Once I did sleep, yes," he answered just as softly. He fell in step next to her, and they began to stroll side by side down the small bend that curved around the rose garden. This part of the grounds had caught her eye since their initial tour, and it grew even dearer upon closer inspection. "I apologize if I was not around to assist your party this morning."
"Oh, please, do not apologize. I myself did not rise until quite a late hour."
"Now I feel even less worthy as a host."
"Oh, pray, do not say so." She shot him an almost reprimanding look. He responded with a mischievous one of his own. "It is not as if we had intended to talk the night away."
"No, perhaps not. But I hope it is not too ungentlemanly of me to admit that I cannot find it in myself to regret it."
His words, accompanied by the gentleness of his tone, sent Elizabeth flushing. Hardly knowing the best way to reply, she offered him a small smile and continued their walk. She did not know if he found her on purpose this morning, but she enjoyed his company enough not to question how it had come about. It was almost strange how she had gone from mortified by his presence to shocked by his invitation to now desiring his company. Perhaps she was just as fickle as all the other women she liked to mock.
It was a humbling thought.
"Were you able to rest well, Miss Elizabeth?" he inquired gently as they rounded the farthest point of the garden path.
"Oh, yes, very well. Your guest rooms are very well appointed."
"I suppose I have my mother to thank for that. As the daughter of an earl, she took her role as a hostess very seriously, determined to see to the comfort of all who visited. To my knowledge, an invitation to Pemberley was considered a great privilege during her years here."
"She and your father were here often, I believe?"
"Yes, and they instilled in me as well a love for our country home. London was all well and good for certain purposes, but Pemberley was always the place that truly felt like home."
"Seeing for myself these few days how unsurpassable the estate is in beauty and luxury, I cannot doubt it."
"I appreciate your compliments."
"You should, for you know better than most that I can hardly compel myself to utter a single word I do not mean." She smiled a little sheepishly. "I think your home is beautiful, and I count myself as privileged as your mother's guests in being able to visit."
He was silent for a good moment before he said, "I think she would have loved you."
"She?"
"My mother." Mr. Darcy's brow furrowed briefly. He cleared his throat. "My parents were a love match at a time when such things were rarely found. My grandfather, the former earl, had hoped for Mother to marry a duke, but it was Father who had stolen her heart. She was an intelligent, gregarious woman who loved to read and loved to sing and made friends at every level of society. My father was a more reticent man, but their natures seemed to complement each other perfectly - and even my grandfather had to agree after a time."
"It is your father you take after then."
"Yes, in both appearances and personality. Georgiana is just as shy, though her looks take after Mother."
"It seems to me that you admired them greatly."
"Wholeheartedly." Mr. Darcy gaze looked far away. "The only thing I ever disagreed with Father over was Wickham."
Once more, Elizabeth pressed a hand to his arm. He halted as she did. She waited for him to meet her eye. "I am sorry - if my misplaced defense of that man has only aggravated the hurt you already associate with him."
Mr. Darcy nodded. "I appreciate the sentiment, Elizabeth."
"And I hope you know that you are just as worthy of admiration as you believe your parents to be - as a master, a brother, a friend."
He managed to look both grateful and worried at the same time. "I do not know if I can be considered a good friend to Bingley."
Elizabeth's hand tightened involuntarily around his sleeve before she pulled it back. "I cannot be the judge of that."
"I do not think you ever hesitated before."
She caught the softness in his eyes before allowing herself to chuckle. "I hope, Mr. Darcy, that you know I do not abuse all my acquaintances so."
"Ought I to consider myself special then?"
She tried to temper her smile. He was special, in many ways - but she was hardly going to admit it to him so freely. "You can hardly expect me to refute that when I am at the mercy of your hospitality."
"True. Pemberley can dazzle away the good sense of many otherwise rational people."
"And make some others act without any reason at all."
As if proving his point, Miss Bingley's voice traveled across the length of the garden, hollering one thing or another that demanded Mr. Darcy's immediate attention. Elizabeth felt slightly guilty for grinning at her host's apparent discomfort, but there was something endearing about seeing the man who was usually so solemn appear frazzled, even if just a little.
"Perhaps, Mr. Darcy, you would like to assist me in finding my uncle and aunt? They seem to have been gotten lost wandering the expansive grounds this morning."
"With pleasure," he avowed so quickly that Elizabeth just laughed.
A/N: I hope you liked the little moment of courtship!
And for those who were so kind as to express concern, my daughter's fever was unfortunately just the prelude to my whole family now being down with the flu! It's horrid, and I am thankful for fanfiction to distract me!