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"Your ladyship," Elizabeth said, "what do you mean to do?"

"Then I shall make my silence heard!" Lady Catherine spun to face them. "I will not interfere in your romance. I will not make dire pronouncements about consequence and breeding. I will not write angry letters or appear at Longbourn to deliver ultimatums. I am going on strike!"

"On strike?" Darcy repeated.

"Yes! If I cannot have better lines, I will have no lines at all! Let us see how the narrative proceeds when a major antagonist refuses to antagonize!"

She sat down abruptly, crossed her arms, and glared at all of them.

"From this moment forward, I shall neither speak nor participate in this poorly written farce."

Lady Catherine de Bourgh closed her mouth.

Mr. Collins began to slide sideways. Charlotte put the salts into his hand before he could complete a third descent.

"Breathe, dear. Her ladyship has not forbidden it."

Elizabeth dared not look at Darcy. She fixed her attention upon a biscuit and hoped her expression conveyed a proper interest in its manufacture.

Lady Catherine kept her mouth shut. For once, no one at Rosings could obtain a ruling.

CHAPTER 20

They left Rosings with Charlotte and Jane ahead of them on the path, discussing the practical difficulty of conducting a household through increasingly fierce notes. Lady Catherine had already sent one after them. It required the removal of the smelling salts from her drawing room; their odor was interfering with her silence.

"My aunt has always been thorough," Darcy said.

"I hope she has enough paper."

He smiled, but his attention returned to the path. Elizabeth recognized the expression. He was choosing words and distrusting every one of them.

At the turning toward the grove, he stopped. The moon provided an extravagant quantity of light. A low branch had nevertheless contrived to remain invisible, and Darcy had to duck out of its reach with very little dignity.

"The scenery has not agreed to your aunt's strike," Elizabeth said.

"Would you walk a little farther with me?"

Charlotte heard and glanced back. Elizabeth nodded; her friend continued with Jane, slowly enough that they would remain within call. No one concealed herself behind a tree.

Elizabeth saw the bench where she had sat after refusing him and remembered how hard he had tried to speak kindly while his mouth betrayed him. She had since received his confidence, watched him accept her refusal, and been sent an invitation which left her free to suggest a different time or decline. Those were things he had done. A script imposed by an author could not take them away.

"We need not stop here," he said.

"I know. I think I should like to."

They stood beside the bench. Darcy did not reach for her hands.

"I have been considering whether I should wait," he began. "Not for Pemberley. We have disposed of that appointment. For you."

"And what did you conclude?"

"That I could ask you. It would be more respectful than making an elaborate calculation of your wishes."

"It would require less paper."

"An additional recommendation."

He smiled briefly, then let the smile go. "I love you, Elizabeth. I loved you when you returned my coat with mud on both sleeves and apologized for only one. I loved you when you challenged my excellent theory because it was unkind to your mother. I find I wish to tell you ordinary things. I saw a badly repaired gate yesterday and wanted your opinion of it. That is hardly a grand declaration, but it occupied me for half the morning."