“Richard, I cannot botch this. I am uncertain how to speak to her, how to convince her I am not as arrogant and selfish as I seemed in Meryton. I get so tongue-tied every time I try to speak to her, and I either remain mute, or what comes out of my mouth is the opposite of what I mean to say. Help me speak to her, please.”
He was a little concerned that his cousin would laugh at him, but to his astonishment, his cousin was sympathetic. Smiling, Fitzwilliam clasped him on the shoulder. “I will do my best.”
Elizabeth receivedthe news that Mr. Darcy was in residence at Rosings with equal measures of trepidation and anticipation. Her dreams had altered since the first, though she was still uncertain which version of the man she would meet. Somehow she knew they would meet soon and wondered if they would encounter each other in the grove she found in her first week here—the same one where Mr. Darcy handed her a letter in her dream—or if he would arrive at the parsonage first. Part of her wished they would see each other first out of doors, since she was uncertain of her own thoughts regarding the gentleman and wondered if his own view of her had changed since they had been apart.
She knew that her sister had yet to see Mr. Bingley. According to a recent letter from Jane, the gentleman had exchanged several letters with her uncle, but still had not paid a call. His letterswere full of apologies and excuses, but Elizabeth wondered what prevented him from seeking her sister out. Despite her rather uncertain thoughts about Mr. Darcy, she would go to see him as soon as possible if it were not completely improper. She found herself wishing that they would encounter each other in the morning, even while knowing it was unlikely.
The next morning, something drew her to the grove where they had met in their dreams. A small part of her was surprised to see him, but another part had known he would be there.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth cried at the same time as he exclaimed, “Miss Elizabeth.”
Feeling embarrassed at this first interaction, they were each tongue-tied for several moments. Finally, Elizabeth’s native impertinence rose. She curtsied and grinned up at him. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy.”
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. Or should I call you Miss Bennet, since your elder sister is not here. I confess, I prefer to refer to you as I did in Hertfordshire.”
She laughed. “Would you think me impertinent if I told you I prefer to be called Miss Elizabeth? Your aunt calls me Miss Bennet in such an imperious tone, and I admit that I look for my sister Jane every time I hear it. Although I do try to mimic how I think my sister would react to her proclamations.” Then, thinking she may have gone too far, she apologised. “Oh, forgive me, sir. I should not have said such a thing about your aunt.”
Darcy laughed freely at this. She stared at him, open-mouthed.
“Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy asked when he noticed her expression.
“I am well, sir, but I am uncertain I have ever heard you laugh before. In Hertfordshire, I am not certain I would have thought you capable of it.”
Darcy looked abashed. “Miss Elizabeth, I am glad to have encountered you this morning, because there is much I would like to say to you. First, I would ask your forgiveness for … well, likely for our entire acquaintance to date. I was an arrogant wretch when we first met in Hertfordshire and left a terrible impression. It was entirely my own fault—I was determined to be displeased and made no effort to be friendly. I treated you especially poorly, refusing to be introduced and insulting you in a grievous and untrue manner. For several months, I have wished to apologise to you, but I had to travel to Pemberley for the winter and then was obligated to come here. I… I hope to return to Hertfordshire sometime next month. That is, if I would be welcome there. I would like to start our acquaintance over.”
Elizabeth blushed, uncertain how to reply. Mr. Darcy was so very different here in Kent, and while she had come to think better of him, she had not expected him to be so altered. “I …” She laughed. “I do not know which matter to address first. I suppose I should begin with accepting your apology, but is it too bold of me to ask why you were determined to be unhappy last autumn?”
Darcy drew in a breath. “There is much to say, and I would like to tell you all, but am not certain it can be done this morning. I am expected back at Rosings before too much longer, and I am certain you would be missed as well. The short version is, I had a difficult summer, having dealt with a betrayal from a former friend that also affected my sister.”
“Does this have anything to do with Mr. Wickham?” Elizabeth interjected.
For a moment, he seemed to freeze. Finally, he said, “I would like to tell you the entire story. I can tell you that Wickham is prone to speaking in half-truths and portraying me as a villain in his stories. It is a skill he has honed since childhood, and he has become quite talented at telling portions of the truth in a way as to make him appear entirely innocent. I would imagine he told you a story about a denied living.”
Elizabeth nodded, and Darcy sighed. “My father did recommend him for a living in his will, though he chose not to accept it. Instead, he asked for, and was granted, three thousand pounds to pursue a career in the law, in addition to the thousand pounds he was left outright. When the living became vacant two years later, he wrote asking for it, claiming his circumstances were very bad. I reminded him of the payment he received for surrendering his right to the living and for which he had signed a receipt. There is more I would like to tell you, but we do not have the time for it now. Will you walk out again in the morning? Can you come earlier?”
She eyed him warily again before whispering, “I will meet you. When?”
“Sunrise?”
She nodded her agreement, and a few minutes later, they took their leave from the other, both reflecting on this first encounter and thinking that it was far more pleasant than either might have expected.
A few hours later,Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam called at the parsonage. After introducing the colonel, Darcy turned quiet, though Elizabeth noted he observed her as he always had. With her new understanding of him, she came to realise that he was not looking at her to find fault, but to admire. As soon as she made this realisation, she found herself blushing.
Under the guise of pouring herself another cup of tea, she moved closer to Mr. Darcy. “Are you well, sir?” she asked.
His gaze seemed to bore into her, causing her cheeks to heat yet again. “I am,” he replied in his deep, sonorous voice. “I am … uncomfortable with those I do not know well. My cousin, the colonel, is far more adept at entertaining where I am more comfortable discussing crop yields and drainage.”
Elizabeth thought for a moment. “Our tenants had just finished sowing turnips in several fields, together with clover. I had read that this benefits both crops and managed to convince several of the younger farmers to try it in a few of their fields. Have you ever attempted this?”
Though surprised at her broaching such a topic, it did allow the two to converse for some time, completely unaware of the conversation that took place around them.
When they departed, Charlotte turned to her friend. “Well, Eliza, I think Mr. Darcy must truly be in love with you,” she teased. “He never would have called on us the day after his arrival otherwise. Whatever did the two of you find to speak on for so long?”
“Turnips,” Elizabeth replied impertinently.
Chapter Seven
When she woke the next morning, Elizabeth quickly dressed and headed toward the kitchens. She had made a habit of walking early and had befriended the cook who only smiled as she grabbed two warm muffins and wrapped them in a handkerchief as she left the house. A small part of her wondered at her willingly agreeing to this assignation, though she recognised that Mr. Darcy did not pose any threat. She wondered a little at her absolute certainty about that fact.
