The embers of the fire still glowed when Darcy turned into his bed the second night Elizabeth Bennet stayed at Pemberley. He had gone through the day unusually sleep and yet just as unusually happy. Their little stroll in the garden, extended largely in part by avoiding Miss Bingley's pursuit, had proven a wonderful extension of their conversations last night. And while Darcy hardly had the confidence to think that he was any closer to securing her affections, he liked to hope that he had at least managed to secure her friendship.
At least she no longer seethed at him like she used to in his nightmares. Compared to those listless nights, today's stroll was a marked improvement indeed.
Knowing he needed better rest to clear his mind, Darcy chose to forego his usual reading. A single verse from the Holy Book provided the extent of his meditations tonight, and he slipped off his ring, snuffed out his candle, and responsibly sank into bed.
He had, upon reflection, a rather large bed. It would be rather nice to have a wife to share it with one day.
Even in the dark, memories of Miss Elizabeth - from her arched looks to her teasing smiles - floated around him. There might come a day when he finally had courage enough to propose again. There might also come a day when he might finally find another lady who enamored him more. But, for the meantime, either of those days was most certainly very, very far away.
Scratching noises sifting through the silent air of his chambers had Darcy opening his eyes. He had made sure young David bolted the door tonight. He'd even checked the lock himself. He sat up with a frown. A second later, the noises repeated themselves, now louder than before.
He shoved himself off the bed with a huff. If the doors were bolted, that only left the windows. A few quick steps landed him in front of the large open window in his bedroom, where he peered down to see a huffing Caroline Bingley trying to scale the tree closest to his room. Her face scrunched with the clear effort it was taking to shove herself up the large branches. While it would usually be impossible to reach the master suite from the outside, recent repairs over the conservatory did add a temporary platform from which one just might be able to vault oneself to his window.
There was a certain degree of amusement to be had over her desperation, but Darcy was rather too irritated to be laughing.
In his brief moment of contemplation, he had apparently given his would-be trespasser an opportunity to see him hovering. She tilted her chin, the calculation on her face intensifying.
A fresh charge of anger burned down his veins. Such shameless behavior from a woman he had used to consider a friend, if only by association, pushed him to a new height of indignation and, without any further consideration for his unwanted visitor's safety, he turned around, marched out his chambers, and charged straight down the corridor. His feet led him instinctively down the path he'd blazed the night before. And even without any franticness to justify ignorance this time around, he knocked on Elizabeth's door, waited two seconds, and stepped right inside.
"Oh!"
It was jarring, if she were to be wholly honest with herself, to be stunned out of her private musings over Mr. Darcy by the sight of the actual Mr. Darcy appearing in her chambers for the second night in a row. He was clothed as informally as he had been last night, while Elizabeth at least still had her dressing gown on. His eyes, when they latched onto hers, seemed to carry a mixture of apology and hope.
Surely, it would be beyond reason for either of them to pretend that today's intrusion was just another misunderstanding, but she supposed reason didn't have to rule each and every conversation.
Elizabeth slipped aside the book she had barely been reading. Then she cleared her throat as her feet landed on the wooden floor. "Is everything quite well, Mr. Darcy?"
He blinked for a bit before flashing an almost shy-looking smile. "Would it be too unbelievable for me to claim that Miss Bingley has tried to infiltrate my chambers - yet again?"
Elizabeth smiled as she padded over. She settled onto the chair closer to the bed. A moment later, Mr. Darcy sank into the other one. It was ironic, almost amusingly so, that they acted as if they were having a fully chaperoned conversation at Longbourn's parlor rather than a decidedly inappropriate midnight meeting in Pemberley's guest room. But she had always been the sort to see the humor in things.
"I do not doubt that she has the determination to try again," said Elizabeth, "although I find it rather difficult to believe that you would not have placed measures against such an attempt after last night's events."
"It is not necessary for you to have to believe that, for I have indeed made sure to bar my doors."
"Then I fail to understand why you would once more be in need of refuge."
He gave a wry smile. "Because I didn't think to bar my windows."
Elizabeth gaped, and he nodded. As little as she might like Miss Bingley, she supposed she ought to respect her for her unwavering commitment to her goal, however misplaced.
"Well, then, consider me impressed."
"Surely, you do not think such behavior ought to be condoned?"
"Things do not always impress us according to their morals. Sometimes, it is only due to their audacity."
"Such as, perhaps, the audacity of a man to expect a woman to accept him after he insults her, her family, and all the life she'd ever known?"
Elizabeth studied his face for any bitterness and found none. "Or, perhaps, the audacity of a maiden to turn down the most eligible man who has ever offered for her."
"A man who doles out self-important insults is hardly eligible."
"Ah, but he is," Elizabeth said quietly. She sent a soft look Mr. Darcy's way. "Especially if he has allowed the encounters of the past to temper his manners in the present, if he seeks to better himself even when society is wholly content with who he already is."
His answering look felt almost like a caress.
Elizabeth continued, "And when he is forgiving rather than resentful, eager to prove himself better rather than to prove himself right."
"Elizabeth - "
"And, of course," she added with a cheeky grin, "if he has a sprawling estate and ten thousand pounds a year."
Her comment saw him chuckling, and their conversation loosened to more lighthearted topics.
"I hope your uncle and aunt have not minded this interruption in their plans," he asked a good few minutes later. "While I myself prefer staying in Pemberley, I can understand if those intending to travel wish to visit more of other places."
"Your home is the crowning jewel of the entire country, Mr. Darcy. I can hardly imagine anyone wishing to leave after they've had the privilege of staying here."
"I am much obliged for your compliments."
"I do mean them, you must know. And to think I had been worried when my aunt expressed a desire to tour the grounds."
"As indomitable as you are, I cannot fathom how a little estate tour could intimidate you."
"Well, we were hardly friends at the time - and I worried about appearing presumptuous."
"Given that you had declined the position of mistress when I'd offered it, there is hardly anything to be presumptuous about."
"I suppose."
"And presumption hardly disqualifies a person from being a guest. If it did - I might not have had to contend with the likes of Caroline Bingley."
Elizabeth laughed at the sneer that temporarily marred his usually handsome face. "I still cannot believe she tried to scale the window."
"Nor I - if I had not seen it with my own two eyes."
"Did you shut the window in her face then?"
"Not quite, although I rather wished to." He sighed and shook his head, almost incredulously. "But despite her forwardness, a part of me felt the need to act the gentleman."
"You are ever the gentleman, are you not?"
"Not always." He met her eyes. A newfound depth seemed to have crept into his gaze, making Elizabeth's chest tighten. "In fact, I could hardly admit to having any gentlemanly feelings right now."
The heat from the lingering fire, minimal before, suddenly felt stifling. Elizabeth licked her lips and whispered quietly, "Is that so?"
"Manly feelings, yes - " he went on to say. "But gentlemanly? I'm afraid not."
The air weighed heavily between them. A wiser part of her mind decided that she ought to look away, but the rest of her remained exactly where she was - her gaze, and her heart, trapped in his.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Mr. Darcy, I - "
The sound of a dog barking interrupted them, and they both shook as if being woken from a deep sleep. Elizabeth scrambled to her feet. Her voice shook despite her every effort to control it. "I - I hope you have a good evening, Mr. Darcy."
He nodded and stood. He bowed, formal and true. "Goodnight, Miss Elizabeth."
"Goodnight, Mr. Darcy."
A/N: I wanted to change the window scene to something more believable, but the whole family is still recovering from the flu and I am in the mood for something ridiculous. So there you have it, a window-scaling Caroline Bingley. Fanfiction is as fanfiction does!