She had concealed it for years with a thoroughness that left little to discover. She moved through crowded rooms, managed conversations, placed herself accordingly, read lips when necessary, adapted, adjusted, and passed unnoticed because she took care that she should.
Yet Mr. Darcy had been in Hertfordshire scarcely a fortnight, and somehow his questions had left her with the uncomfortable impression that he knew.
How could he?
At first light Elizabeth abandoned any pretence of further sleep and set out for Oakham Mount.
The path was familiar enough to require little thought. The morning was cold and clear, the fields still silvered with frost, and she walked briskly. By the time she reached the summit she had managed, if not to resolve the matter, at least to place sufficient distance between herself and Longbourn that her reflections seemed less pressing.
She had been there perhaps ten minutes when she became aware of the approach of a horse upon the path below, more sensation than sound, transmitted through the frozen ground beneath her feet, and turned in time to see a rider emerge from the trees.
She felt a chill entirely unrelated to the morning air. That the rider should prove to be Mr. Darcy seemed precisely the sort of misfortune the day was determined to provide.
He saw her at the same moment. He checked his horse briefly, then continued at a walk and dismounted without any particular haste, as though encountering her here at such an hour were an entirely ordinary occurrence.
It was not an ordinary occurrence. Of that she was quite certain.
"Miss Bennet." He inclined his head. "Good morning."
"Mr. Darcy." She returned the courtesy. "I had not expected to encounter anyone here at this hour."
"Nor I," he replied. "I ride out most mornings. I find I prefer the open country to the grounds at Netherfield."
Elizabeth was not entirely persuaded. She had walked out almost every morning since his arrival in Hertfordshire and had never before met him upon the road.
"As do I," she said, and immediately wished she had chosen another response, for it was precisely the sort of small agreement that invited further conversation, and she had very little desire to encourage it.
He secured his horse to a nearby branch and came to stand a few feet away. Without conscious thought, Elizabeth shifted slightly, making room for him on her left side, the same quiet adjustment she made in every conversation, so habitual by now that she no longer noticed herself doing it.
Darcy noticed.
She saw it in the brief pause before he stepped into the place she had made for him, the fraction of a second during which he merely observed, and then said nothing.
"I am glad to have encountered you, Miss Bennet." He flexed his fingers briefly, as though restoring warmth to them. "I wished to thank you."
She looked at him.
"My sister was in considerably better spirits last evening than she has been for some time," he continued. "I believe your conversation was the cause of it. I am very grateful."
Elizabeth was silent for a moment. Whatever she had expected him to say, it had not been that. She had prepared herself for further questions, for studied indifference, for that peculiar attention which felt so remarkably like scrutiny. Gratitude had not occurred to her.
"Miss Darcy is very easy to talk to," she said, recovering herself. "I enjoyed her company."
"She enjoyed yours," he replied. "Very much."
He paused, as though deciding where next to steer the conversation. Elizabeth tensed without quite realising she had done so.
"I hope you may find occasion to spend time with her again, whenever it is convenient to you. I would not impose upon you. Only, she does not form attachments easily, and I believe she would benefit from the acquaintance."
Elizabeth looked out across the valley.
She thought of Georgiana's careful questions, of the manner in which she listened, and of the particular quality of her attention. She thought about Mr. Darcy standing at the edge of the room watching them with an expression she had been unable to read from a distance.
Miss Darcy had seemed cheerful enough in conversation, yet there had been moments when her smiles appearedhard won. Elizabeth found herself wondering what sorrow or disappointment had taught so young a lady such caution.
And she found herself wondering why he was so anxious that his sister should know her better.
"I should be very happy to," she said.
