Elizabeth assented, and they strolled for several moments. What Mr. Darcy was thinking, Elizabeth did not know, but she could not help but wonder at the ease she felt in his company, the essential part of her life he had become.
“Unless I am mistaken,” said Mr. Darcy, breaking the silence between them, “you would even now be in Kent had the situation been different.”
“Sir William and Maria departed last week,” said Elizabeth, regretting the lost opportunity to see her friend.
“Are you disappointed?” asked Mr. Darcy, watching her with care.
“I regret the distance from Charlotte,” replied Elizabeth. “I do not regret the inability to stay in Kent, to own the truth.” Elizabeth offered a wry grin. “Mr. Collins’s company is not so agreeable that I cannot do without it.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “I offer my apologies, Miss Elizabeth. The need to keep our recent amity from Mr. Collins’s ears never crossed my mind.”
“It is not your fault, Mr. Darcy.”
“You have been denied your visit because of my aunt’s obsession, Miss Elizabeth.”
“That does not make it your responsibility.” Elizabeth sighed and offered him a wan smile. “To own the truth, it never crossed my mind to keep it from Sir William. Even had I spoken to him, he might not have understood the reason for discretion.”
Elizabeth regarded him quizzically. “Was it your intention to let me stay in Kent without ever letting your aunt know?”
The gentleman hesitated. Overhead, a bird called, and Elizabeth looked up into the clear blue sky, seeing a flock wheeling overhead. A slight breeze rustled branches still bare of leaves, sending striped shadows across the path.
“To own the truth, my plans were not so developed as that. I knew that informing my aunt of my attentions to you would lead to disaster, but I had some hope that she might warm to you during your stay with Mrs. Collins. Perhaps I give Lady Catherine too much credit, but I hoped that her inevitable opposition would not be so vehement if she knew you.”
Elizabeth nodded—she suspected itwaswishful thinking, but she could not fault him. Elizabeth’s acquaintance with Lady Catherine comprised one confrontational conversation, while Mr. Darcy had a lifetime of acquaintance with the lady. At least Mr. Darcy had been present that day when Lady Catherine had descended on them in a fury—Elizabeth shuddered to imagine her behavior had she confronted Elizabeth alone.
“You used the words ‘inevitable opposition,’” said Elizabeth.
“It is no less than the truth, Miss Elizabeth. Nothing in this world could induce Lady Catherine to release her obsession without a fight.” Mr. Darcy shrugged. “That is why I did not correct her before—I knew any such discussion was fruitless and risked argument, or even a breach in the family. There was little reason to provoke such before it became absolutely necessary.”
“I cannot fault your reasoning, sir,” replied Elizabeth. Then she laughed. “To own the truth, Lady Catherine’s behavior at the mere suspicion of a connection between us was so astonishingthat I must wonder what she will do if you present her with news of an engagement.”
“Hopefully nothing,” said Mr. Darcy, though the look he directed at her was more intense than usual. “Having failed once already, I do not suppose she will trouble herself to journey so far again.” A pause ensued, then Mr. Darcy gave a rueful shake of his head. “No doubt the copious volume of her letters will increase, but you have no need to concern yourself with that.”
“It is just as well that she cannot write to me,” replied Elizabeth, humor filling her. “But Mr. Collins will no doubt berate my father over the post, and he will adjure Charlotte to plead with me to reconsider.”
The gentleman offered a serene smile. “I cannot suppose that Mr. Collins’s discontent will sway you.”
“Not at all,” replied Elizabeth. “All his displeasure did nothing to convince me when he proposed, so I can well withstand his campaign by letter.”
Mr. Darcy watched her, then offered a slow nod. “Yes, I suspected that he proposed to you, though we never spoke of it. With that knowledge, my suspicion of your mother’s influence over your sister is revealed as absurd.”
“It is,” said Elizabeth, feeling quite satisfied. “While I cannot blame you for thinking as much given my mother’s zeal for seeing her daughters married, Jane and I have always determined to keep our own counsel when confronted with a suitor.”
“And do you still keep your own counsel?”
Mr. Darcy had stopped in the path and turned to look at her, and Elizabeth looked up into his deep blue eyes. They were the eyes of a man she had not seen when he had first come to Meryton—had not chosen to see, if she were honest with herself. Mr. Darcy had not been in good humor and had not portrayed himself well, to be certain. Yet after the initial acrimony, it hadbeen as much Elizabeth’s prejudice as his pride that had kept them apart.
“Perhaps I do, Mr. Darcy,” said she. Then she arched a brow at him in challenge. “What do you mean to do about it?”
“That depends upon you,” said the gentleman, drawing closer.
His hand reached up and brushed her cheek, like the touch of a feather, or a light puff of wind fluttering playfully. Elizabeth leaned into his touch, sighing with contentment. Then she giggled.
“Are my attentions now a cause for mirth?” said the gentleman, though he was not displeased.
“You know me, Mr. Darcy,” said she, giving him an impish smile. “I dearly love to laugh.”
She fixed him with a challenging look. “Will my propensity toward laughter provoke you to flee from me in panic?”
