I am so so sorry this took so long! I really wanted to get their first real interaction right - I had an idea of the feelings I wanted to convey but struggled to find the words. I hope it was worth the wait. I am pretty happy with it (of course it is not quite perfect but here we are). Thank you for reading and for your patience. I appreciate every follow, fav & comment!
When they had reached a bend in the path that took them out of view of the Pemberley garden where Georgiana stood watching them go, Mr. Darcy spoke.
"Why was my sister intent on going to my uncle's home alone and on foot this afternoon?"
In her nervousness and excitement in being in his company, alone in his company, Elizabeth nearly forgot what had brought them together in the first place. She did not want to betray her new friend's confidences, but she was also loath to simply deny Mr. Darcy any sort of answer.
"She did not explain it to you?"
"No," he replied, his tone now devoid of any softness. "she said nothing of import before she dragged me to you."
Perhaps it was how put out he sounded at the prospect of meeting her or his dismissal of Miss Darcy's words, or perhaps it was the fact that she had not eaten in quite some time that led Elizabeth to respond thusly:
"Well, I doubt then, Sir," she emphasized the address with false sincerity, "that anything I would say could be of sufficient import to warrant your attention. In light of this might I suggest we continue on in silence or if you'd prefer, you may turn back now."
"I will do no such thing, and it is unreasonable to refuse to answer my questions. Miss Darcy is my sister, and my responsibility, you have known her for less than an hour. I must be acquainted with all her concerns."
"And yet you are not acquainted with this one," she responded, picking up her pace. It did no good of course his legs were nearly twice as long as hers, she would not out-walk him.
"Which is why I asked you to tell me," he responded with obvious impatience. "I cannot understand your unwillingness."
"You cannot understand my unwillingness to reveal things told to me in confidence? It is a pity you, in your advanced years, have not known the joy of friends who would keep your secrets. I feel sorry for you."
"Miss Bennet, I must insist . . ." he stopped walking and gently tugged at her elbow so that she had to do likewise.
"Insisting again, Mr. Darcy," although she stood facing him Elizabeth did not look him in the eye. She was afraid she would lose her resolve if she did so – he really was too handsome. It was an unfair advantage. "You should remember your insisting has no effect on me. You may be used to young women bending to your will, but I will not be moved. Unlike Miss Devon obtaining your good opinion is not my primary goal."
"Miss Devon?" he replied, clearly confused. Elizabeth cursed her temper. It so often led her to do and say things she later regretted. When would she learn?
"Never mind, I should not have said that. Leave it be." She huffed, turning to resume their journey.
"Miss Bennet," the soft almost apologetic way he said her name caused Elizabeth to stop, though she did not turn back to him. Instead he came to stand in front of her. "I apologize for my manner of address. I understand I can be somewhat . . . "
"direct." "rude." They said at the same time.
"Rude?" he questioned with marked incredulity.
He sounded so genuinely perplexed that Elizabeth softened a little. That combined with her determination not to be ruled by her temper had her conceding where she might otherwise have insisted. She still felt she was right. He had been rude, but perhaps she could find a compromise in the verbal battle they were engaged in.
"Fine, direct then," she nodded and waved her hand for him to continue. "Please proceed with your apology."
"I was done."
"I am not surprised. You are not very good at it." She resumed walking and he fell into step beside her.
"At what?"
"Apologizing," she told him, expending considerable effort to hold onto her temper which was rising again. He was nearly as exasperating as he was handsome. Nearly.
"I have never considered apologies a skill one could excel at." he said, sounding genuinely curious.
"That is peculiar," she answered. "It seems obvious that like most things one can do it well or not well. In my limited experience with your ability you fall into the latter category."
"Even if I accept your premise that apologies are a skill to be mastered I fail to see how mine did not meet the standard. I said the words. What more is required?"
"I am glad you asked." She answered primly. "An apology must be more than words."
"You require a gift perhaps?" he accused.
"No of course not," she laughed. "Perhaps in some circumstances an apology should be accompanied by a gift, but certainly not here."
"An act of penance then?" he seemed amused now. He was teasing her and Elizabeth could not help but be charmed by it. She pretended to consider his suggestion.
"Again, that might be appropriate in other situations, but not here."
"Shall I keep guessing or would you like to enlighten me?"
"I should have thought it would be obvious to one as old and wise as you."
"You seem overly considered with my age. I assure you I have not quite entered my dotage. The wisdom I will grant you."
"Of course you will," Elizabeth giggled, but checked herself. She did not want to sound like a little girl.
"However, you still have not educated me with regard to the deficiency in my apology to you. I am eager to improve myself."
Between his stunning brown eyes, crooked smile and apparent skill in the art of teasing Elizabeth was lost. But she was determined to hold her own – her father had prepared her well to match wits with the likes of Mr. Darcy.
"How can I deny such a willing student," she replied with mock solemnity. "Your apology was insufficient for the obvious reason that you did not in fact believe you had anything to apologize for. Quite simply, Mr. Darcy, you lacked sincerity."
"That is not entirely true, Miss Bennet," he told her. "I sincerely regret that my manner of expression has caused this lengthy deviation from the topic at hand."
"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed, but it rang as more amused to her own ears.
"I apologize, once again," he said, his slight smile and telltale light in his eyes making Elizabeth's heart flutter uncontrollably, threatening the precarious hold she had on her heart. "Sincerely, I assure you. Now would you be so kind as to answer the original question?"
"I am afraid I cannot recall what it was," she said in what she hoped was a firm and not at all breathy voice. Why did she feel breathless when their pace could best be described as unhurried?
"Why was Georgiana running away from home?"
"She was doing no such thing." Elizabeth insisted.
"What was she doing? And what does it have to do with Miss Devon?"
"I was hoping you had forgotten that."
"I did not," he responded and then earnestly told her, "I admire your desire to maintain my sister's confidence, but you seemed to imply that she planned to tell me herself so you would not be revealing anything that she had not intended to reveal anyway."
"You are not wrong. However, the logical resolution would be for you to wait until she tells you would it not?"
"Please, Miss Bennet," he said quietly. "Her behaviour over the past week since we arrived at Pemberley has been . . . has caused concern . . . I am concerned."
Later when Elizabeth lay in her bed and replayed her day, committing to memory every look, every smile and expression of Mr. Darcy she would remain uncertain if she had been persuaded by his earnest tone which revealed a concerned elder brother or his smile which she felt certain could convince her to do a great deal more than spill a secret. After she gave him the bare essentials of Georgiana's relationship with Miss Devon and her desire to flee her home rather than be subject to her whims any longer Mr. Darcy had questions.
"Why would she not come to me immediately with her troubles?" he sounded truly put out. "Did she not think I would help?"
"That was not what caused her to hesitate to confide in you." Elizabeth assured him.
"Do you say that because you know or because you know it is what I would like to hear?" he asked.
"Although I cannot claim any great knowledge of your character on such a short acquaintance I have surmised that you are not someone who likes to be placated and therefore I would not bother." She told him frankly. He nodded as if acknowledging that Elizabeth had correctly appraised this aspect of his character.
"If it was not her belief in my indifference to her plight or inability to help what was it that caused her to keep all of that to herself?"
Here Elizabeth paused once again. This time her hesitation was not so much about spilling secrets, as Georgiana's belief in Miss Devon's tendre for her brother was conjecture not fact, but she knew that it was a somewhat inappropriate topic for her to engage with a gentleman. A gentleman she barely knew. However; in that indefinite space she occupied between free-spirited girl and refined young lady Elizabeth had always favoured the former. Better truth in a vaguely taboo conversation than unnecessary prevaricating.
"Having observed Miss Devon's apparent attachment to you . . ." Elizabeth faltered a little at this revelation, "Miss Darcy did not want to interfere if there was any potential or desired . . . connection."
While she blushed slightly Mr. Darcy stared at her dumbfounded. He clearly did not understand.
"Connection?"
Elizabeth noted that he did not dispute Miss Devon's attachment. Indeed he did seem at all surprised. She waited another few moments to see if he would realize what she was implying. He did not.
"For goodness sakes. She was afraid you might return Miss Devon's affection and did not want to prejudice you against her. It was because she knows how much you love her and want to protect her that she stayed silent. It was her way of loving and protecting you."
Mr. Darcy was silent for a long moment and Elizabeth took the opportunity to look around. They were almost to the end of the path which would bring them to the edge of Barlow Hall's western garden. Their direction must have been determined by Mr. Darcy as Elizabeth had paid absolutely no attention to where they were walking.
"Thank you for explaining," he said at last. Unable to read his tone Elizabeth worried about what he was thinking and perhaps planning.
"What will you do?" It was not her business and the question was at the very least impertinent, but she could not help herself.
"What do you think?" he asked, finally looking her in the eye once again. It was as disorienting this time as it had been every time so far in their brief acquaintance.
"What do I think you will do or what do I think you should do?" she asked after a moment.
"I have no doubt you have a decided opinion on what I should do, however; I am curious as to what you think I will do and if the two diverge."
"Having only met you this afternoon I am sure I could not say," Elizabeth answered with a mischievous smile.
"Well then," he responded with a smile, then his tone became serious as he added, "Please allow me to thank you for your kindness to my sister. She is a good girl. I am glad you came upon her when you did. I hate to think what might have happened had you not been there to talk some sense into her."
"I have no doubt she would have talked herself out of it. In addition to being good she is also quite intelligent," Elizabeth responded. "You will address her concerns?"
"I will."
"Thank you," Elizabeth accepted that that was the only answer she would get, knowing he did not owe her more reassurances.
They stood on the edge of the wood with Barlow house in the near distance, candles already lighting it up as twilight settled in.
"I will bid you good evening," Mr. Darcy said with a quick formal bow.
"Good evening, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth offered a curtsey. Then boldly asked, "will I be able to see Miss Darcy again.
"It is unlikely. The family usually only spend a fortnight or so at Pemberley in the summer and Miss Darcy is to go to Matlock house, by coach this time, in just a few days."
"I see." And she did, but that did not stop her disappointment. As Mr. Darcy turned to go Elizabeth added, "thank you for the escort home."
A bow was his only response as he proceeded back down the path. She stayed until he was out of sight.