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The young footman held a tea tray. He took slow steps, his eyes fixed on the empty space of the tablecloth near Aunt Madeline. He carried the tray as smoothly as a swan gliding across the glassy lake. He reached the table and lowered his burden. The teapot did not even rattle. He stepped back, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Fresh tea, madam.” He offered a bow to Aunt Madeline.

Mr Darcy leaned back in his chair with genuine pride. “Excellent work, Bates. You may inform Fletcher that I am pleased with your progress.”

“Thank you, sir! I shall inform him immediately!”

He turned on his heel, executing a sharp pivot, and marched out of the room without colliding with a single piece of furniture.

“A miracle,” Aunt Madeline noted, pouring the tea. “Mr Darcy, you are clearly a man capable of the impossible.”

“I merely believe in the potential for improvement, Mrs Gardiner.” Mr Darcy met Elizabeth’s gaze, the double meaning of his words hanging in the warm morning air.

The second day of the courtship brought glorious, cloudless summer weather.

The party ventured out onto the south lawns after luncheon. Mr Darcy pushed Uncle Edward’s chair, navigating the gravel paths with meticulous care to avoid any sudden inclines or treacherous shrubbery. Aunt Madeline walked ahead, holding a parasol to shield her face from the bright afternoon sun.

Elizabeth fell into step beside Georgiana, a few paces behind the men.

Georgiana leaned closer. “He spent an hour in the gardens this morning, Miss Elizabeth. He inspected every single rosebush to ensure the blooms were of a sufficient size before the gardeners cut them.”

Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. “My bedchamber resembles a botanical garden, Miss Darcy. If he brings me another bouquet, I shall have to sleep in the passage.”

“He wishes everything to be perfect.” Georgiana glanced fondly at her brother’s broad back. “I have never seen him like this. He is usually so serious, so burdened by the estate and his responsibilities. You make him... light.”

“He makes me happy.” Elizabeth linked her arm through Georgiana’s.

They reached a flat expanse of manicured grass near the edge of the woods. Mr Darcy engaged the brakes on the Bath chair, stepping away to join Elizabeth.

“The gardens are spectacular today, Miss Elizabeth.” He offered his arm. “Would you care to walk to the lower fountains?”

“I should love nothing more.” Elizabeth placed her hand on his sleeve, leaving Georgiana and the Gardiners to enjoy the shade of a tall tree.

They walked in silence for several minutes. The air smelled of blooming jasmine and warm grass.

“Mrs Reynolds spoke to me this morning,” Elizabeth mentioned. “She stopped me to inquire if the temperature of the tea was to my liking. She also, very subtly, informed me that your favourite dessert is a gooseberry tart, and that you possess an abiding hatred for boiled cabbage.”

Mr Darcy chuckled. “Mrs Reynolds is a formidable ally. She has run this house since I was a boy, and she considers it her personal duty to manage my happiness as efficiently as she manages the linens. I suspect she is attempting to supply you with the necessary information to tolerate me on a permanent basis.”

“She need not worry.” Elizabeth smiled, her thumb brushing lightly on the fine wool of his coat. “I find I am already very tolerant of your company, sir.”

He stopped walking. The lower fountains bubbled in the background, but the sound faded from Elizabeth’s awareness. Mr Darcy turned to face her, his eyes intense and searching.

He reached out, his large hand covering her fingers where they rested upon his arm.

“I wish to be entirely transparent with you, Elizabeth.” He spoke her Christian name with reverent awe. “I know I have much to prove. I know the memory of my past arrogance cannot be erased in a few days. But I am devoted to your happiness. I will spend the rest of my life proving it, if you will permit me.”

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around Elizabeth’s heart, pulling it tight.

“You have nothing left to prove, Fitzwilliam.” She felt a thrill at the use of his given name. “You have shown me the truth of your character. I ask for nothing more than the man standing before me.”

He brought her gloved hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss at her knuckles, the adoration in his eyes making the world tilt on its axis.

They were interrupted by a joyous barking.

Apollo and Diana bounded closer, their paws tearing up the grass. They held a woven wicker basket between them, each hound gripping a handle in their jaws. The basket swung wildly between them, occasionally spilling a red apple onto the lawn.

Mr Darcy dropped her hand with a sigh. “I see my hounds have decided to assist in the courtship process by stealing from the kitchens.”