Elizabeth lingered at the edge of the room, uncertain whether she was truly meant to remain. After a brief, self-conscious glance about her, she chose a chair near the window and reached for a book abandoned upon the nearby table, more for occupation than interest. She had scarcely read a full paragraph before the sound of footsteps reached her ears.
“Good afternoon, Miss Elizabeth.”
The voice startled her into motion. She straightened at once, the book forgotten in her hands, and rose quickly to her feet, colour rising as she turned to face Mr Darcy, who had just entered the room.
It had been more than a se’nnight since she had last seen him, and the interval had not lessened the effect of his presence. He appeared well—better than she remembered—and there was an openness in his expression that made her glad, in spite of herself, to see him again. The recollection of their earlier conversations returned unbidden, and with it the quiet pleasure she had once taken in his company.
She did not allow the feeling to carry her too far. His sincere apology had not answered every question she yet possessed, andshe was still uncertain how much trust she ought to place in altered manners. Nevertheless, she could not persuade herself to regret his presence nor to wish the meeting undone. In every other instance, he had been an interesting companion, but his words at the assembly were not entirely forgotten.
Mr Darcy advanced a few steps into the room and then stopped, as though unsure whether to proceed further. His bow was proper, but there was a reserve in it she had not observed before, a carefulness in his manner that suggested he was measuring his conduct with more than usual attention. He stood very straight, his hands clasped behind him, his expression composed, if a little grave.
“Good afternoon,” he said again, with a faint hesitation that did not escape her notice.
Elizabeth returned his greeting with a small, steady smile, meeting his gaze without embarrassment. She sensed his uncertainty, and though she could not guess at its cause, she felt no inclination to retreat from it. If he was cautious, she would not be; confidence had ever been more natural to her than suspicion.
For a moment, neither spoke, and yet the silence was not uncomfortable. Elizabeth was the first to speak, unwilling to allow the moment to grow more awkward than it need be.
“I had not expected to find the room quite so deserted when I returned from visiting a tenant,” she said lightly. “For a moment, I feared I had mistaken the correct hour for tea. It is a pity I missed being introduced to your sister upon her arrival, and I hope you will both forgive me for my absence.”
Mr Darcy smiled faintly. “You are very kind to say so, but no apology is necessary. We arrived a little earlier than we were expected, and I did not wish to remain longer in my room. Georgiana was much fatigued by the journey and would have felt equal regret at missing you. I am certain you will meet her very soon—and she will be glad of it. Your grandfather did not specify a time for us to speak again; I suppose he meant to leave that to you.”
She smiled at that, and the familiar pleasure of engaging his attention returned. “It seems the risk of arriving early attends nearly everything,” she said. “I have always disliked being late, and the practice of being ‘fashionably’ so has never suited my temperament, unlike others I have seen.”
His lips curved, almost despite himself. “You have expressed my opinion on the matter perfectly.”
The exchange, modest as it was, settled something between them. He moved a little nearer—not close enough to presume, but no longer holding himself at such careful distance—and his manner grew easier, less studied. Elizabeth found herself at her ease as well, the earlier uncertainty giving way to a quieter, more familiar comfort.
“I trust your journey was not overly fatiguing,” she said.
“Not at all,” he replied. “I find travel far less tiresome when it is accompanied by a pleasant prospect at the end of it. That, and I travelled with Georgiana and her companion on this occasion. At least we could speak to each other, and I have a travel chess board that we bring out to pass the time when we have nothing left to speak about.”
As they spoke, the door, which had been standing partially ajar, opened wider, and the earl entered the room. His step paused almost imperceptibly upon taking in the scene before him, his gaze moving at once from his granddaughter to Mr Darcy and lingering there a fraction longer than courtesy required. Neither of them saw him at first, for they continued speaking without acknowledging his entry.
“My dear Elizabeth,” her grandfather said, his voice carrying a tone of disapproval she was unused to hearing from him, “I was certain I should find you here after my meeting with the steward. Tell me, how did you find Mrs Smith?”
Elizabeth turned towards her grandfather at once, her expression settling into affectionate composure. “She has been quite unwell, it seems, and unwilling to ask for additional help,” she replied. “I hope she is on the mend. I carried her some broth and a few herbs the apothecary recommended on my previous visit, and I promised to call again in a few days. I have also asked Mr Jones to check on her tomorrow, letting her know that the estate will handle the costs.”
“That was very good of you,” Mr Darcy said quietly, his tone sincere. “Such attentions often do more than the remedies themselves. It is the duty of the mistress to attend to the tenants, yet too few young ladies in society appear willing to accept the responsibility. Netherfield has certainly benefited from having you as its mistress, especially as you have not resided there.”
Elizabeth glanced towards him, surprised by the directness of his praise, and found him regarding her with an expression of earnest approval that stirred something unexpectedly warm within her. She smiled before she could prevent it.
Despite her earlier reservations, she was obliged to admit she found him far more interesting than she once had. He had, it was true, avoided her during the early part of her stay at Netherfield—a circumstance she had regarded with some curiosity; yet since his apology, her opinion of him had softened further. Their conversations had been open and engaging, yet that reserve had now returned, and she could not account for it.
His changeability puzzled her but did not displease her; on the contrary, it engaged her attention more fully, for she was now convinced he was, at heart, a good man, if a bit reserved.
Darcy’s lips lifted in answer to her smile, the movement hesitant, as though uncertain how much warmth he dared display. For a fleeting moment, she believed the distance between them had lessened.
It shifted almost at once. His expression grew composed, the ease she had glimpsed retreating behind a formality she had come to recognise. He lowered his gaze, and when he looked at her again, there was a restraint in his manner she could not explain.
She had not spoken incautiously, nor perceived any impropriety in their exchange. If he felt the need to withdraw, she could not determine why.
Her grandfather inclined his head in agreement, yet his approval was restrained. His mouth tightened, and his gaze returned to Mr Darcy with a coolness that left little doubt as to his assessment. The pause that followed suggested displeasure firmly held in check, rather than uncertainty.
“Few young women possess my granddaughter’s steadiness of mind,” Lord Granfield said at last, his tone measuredand affectionate where Elizabeth was concerned. “Netherfield benefits from it daily, and I see no future in which it does not continue to do so.”
Elizabeth observed the change in her grandfather’s countenance with mild confusion. That her constancy should be spoken of as fixed and unalterable struck her as curious. It occurred to her that he might disapprove of her conversation with Mr Darcy—or of something within it—but she could not be certain, nor fully account for such a reaction. Nor could she understand why praise of her attentions should produce anything but satisfaction in him.
“I have enjoyed assisting with the tenants at both Netherfield and Longbourn,” Elizabeth said, attempting to placate her grandfather while casting a troubled glance at Mr Darcy. “Grandmama Bennet was of great aid in teaching Jane and me our duties towards our tenants, and of course your sister provided additional instruction whenever I visited Granfield Park. Aunt Rosalind is still there, Grandpapa, and I hope you will allow us to journey to see her before we go to London for the Season. Having grown up in the country, I vastly prefer it, but I will confess I look forward to spending a short time in the capital and the entertainments it affords.”
