CHAPTER 16
"I assure you, Mrs. Darcy, I have no notion whatsoever." The repeated use of the name, delivered with flawless composure, only deepened her embarrassment.
"I am not sure I believe you, Mr. Darcy," she replied, giving emphasis to his name this time.
He closed the book upon his finger and, with the faintest hint of mischief that Elizabeth had ever seen upon his countenance, added, "It is true, as I should require an expert."
Elizabeth stared at him for a heartbeat, then said, “I think you are enjoying this entirely too much."
"For once," he replied, the corners of his mouth threatening to betray him, "I believe I am."
Then she laughed so unexpectedly at Mr. Darcy’s teasing that even Mrs. Kewley called from the kitchen, "What have you two found so amusing?"
Elizabeth looked helplessly toward Darcy, and he answered with his same easy composure, "A disagreement regarding livestock, madam."
Mrs. Kewley seemed entirely satisfied, "Very sensible. Thomas and I once argued about a goat for nearly six months." She returned to the kitchen and resumed her work as though nothing extraordinary had occurred.
Elizabeth looked back at Darcy, a degree of astonishment in her voice, "I had not imagined you capable of making a joke."
His eyebrows rose ever so slightly, and he replied in a tone touched with the faintest hint of dry sarcasm, "I was not aware I had."
Elizabeth regarded him with exaggerated seriousness, "My, Mr. Darcy," she returned, "I begin to suspect there is a gentleman of wit concealed beneath all that solemnity."
He smiled then, and she was surprised by it, "I trust the discovery does not disappoint you."
"On the contrary. I have spent a considerable portion of our acquaintance believing you incapable humor… or of smiling."
Mr. Darcy replied gravely, "Then I have clearly been very successful in preserving my reputation."
"A reputation," Elizabeth said with another laugh, "which I now see was greatly exaggerated."
***
After supper had been cleared away, Mr. Kewley and Mrs. Kewley retired for the night, both citing differing degrees of tiredness from their activities.
Elizabeth had decided to withdraw to her chamber with a volume of poetry she had every intention of reading. She had scarcely reached the second page when a quiet knock sounded upon the communicating door. She smiled despite herself, "Come in."
The door opened, and Mr. Darcy entered before closing the door behind him, “Miss Bennet.”
“Mr. Darcy,” she said with a gentle nod in greeting.
She noticed his expression was unusually grave, "I hope I do not intrude."
"You never do." The words escaped before she had considered them, and she colored immediately. "I mean, you always knock."
A faint warmth softened his features. "I am relieved of it. He hesitated. "There is... a matter I wished to discuss with you in privacy." The hesitation alone was enough to extinguish Elizabeth's smile.
Her mind betrayed her at once. For the briefest of moments, it flew back to Kent and the parsonage at Hunsford, along with his unexpected declaration that had altered both their lives, and the painful conversation that had followed.
A most unreasonable thought seized her, had he come to renew his addresses?
The notion, however, was as quickly dismissed as it had arisen.
One look at his countenance was enough for her to know that there would likely be expectation of love.
Instead, it bore the quiet gravity she had come to associate with matters that genuinely troubled him.
Her own pulse, which had momentarily quickened, settled again.
"Has something happened?" she asked, as concern replaced embarrassment.
Darcy hesitated only a moment, "I wonder whether I might speak with you about your correspondence with my cousin."
Elizabeth released a breath she had not realized she had been holding. The subject was, at least, a safer one. Whatever uncertainty lay in the mystery of Anne's letters was infinitely preferable to revisiting the far more perilous subject of Mr. Darcy's affections, or, still more alarming, her own.
“Of course, please sit, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth pointed to a chair across the room. And, for a few moments he remained standing, as though uncertain how best to begin.
"You are alarming me, sir," she remarked.
He shook his head, and walked over to the chair to sit, before drawing a measured breath, "I have made several discreet inquiries during the past few days about your correspondent."
Elizabeth frowned, "You asked about Anne?"
"I have spoken with the harbor master, several merchants, the parish clerk, and two gentlemen whose families have resided upon the island for generations."
She looked at him with growing confusion, "And?"
"No one has heard the name de Bourgh." He arose from the chair and began pacing slowly before the fire. "But I have not merely asked whether they know Miss de Bourgh. I have inquired after any family of that name, any estate connected with it, any visitors from Rosings, any connection whatsoever."
Elizabeth struggled to reconcile his words with everything she believed she knew. "And there is none?"
He shook his head, "None."
"But Anne wrote so particularly. She described the island, and she recommended the journey." Elizabeth looked toward the fire. "Then how can no one know her?"
Darcy was silent for several moments before answering, "I do not know." He disliked mysteries, and he disliked unanswered questions even more.
Elizabeth folded her hands together, her expression thoughtful and troubled, "Do you believe Anne deceived me?"
His answer came immediately, "I do not believe my cousin capable of deliberate cruelty."
The certainty in his voice reassured her, though it did not entirely settle the uneasiness that had begun to form. Darcy resumed his slow pacing before the hearth, his thoughts clearly still unsettled. "But I have begun to wonder whether there are circumstances she has not disclosed."
Elizabeth relaxed slightly, "What sort of circumstances?
She shook her head slightly, struggling to reconcile the idea with the Anne she had come to know through their letters.
"I cannot imagine what would have caused her to do such a thing.
" A pause followed, "I have been reflecting upon it all week, if I am honest."
She looked down briefly, gathering her thoughts. "From the very beginning, the correspondence seemed unusual. I was surprised when her first letter arrived. We had scarcely spoken during my visit to Kent."
A faint crease appeared between Darcy's brows, "Yet you answered.”
"Because I believed she wished for friendship.
" Her expression softened. "And because I thought perhaps she had been overlooked by others for much of her life.
She struck me as a person who had much to say but had rarely been given the opportunity to say it.
" Elizabeth looked back at him, "I know that may sound foolish.
It is only that the letters became so familiar.
She wrote of books, of music, of the countryside, of her wish to see places beyond what she had always known. " She paused, "She seemed lonely."
The observation affected him. "My cousin has often been lonely," he admitted.
Elizabeth looked at him, "Then perhaps you understand why I never suspected anything improper."
Darcy's expression softened, though a shadow of regret crossed his features. "Yes," he said quietly. "Of course you did not." He paused, his gaze lowering for a moment before returning to hers, "You have been nothing but thoughtful and kind toward my cousin, as you are with everyone.”
Elizabeth looked away slightly, uncomfortable with the praise, "I do not think that is entirely true."
Darcy's eyebrows lifted, "No?"
She smiled faintly, "I am certain there are people who would disagree. I have not always been kind with all people, Mr. Darcy."
The admission was offered so plainly that Darcy was momentarily surprised, but he did not speak, so she continued.
Her expression became more thoughtful, "I have been quick to form opinions.
I have been certain of my own judgment when perhaps I ought to have listened more carefully.
I have mistaken confidence for truth on more than one occasion. "
Darcy remained silent. There was something remarkable in hearing Elizabeth Bennet acknowledge their time in Kent. He knew she spoke of his proposal and her response to it. His heart began to race.
She smiled a little, "You see? I am hardly the perfect creature you seem determined to describe."
"I have never thought you perfect." The answer came more quickly than either expected.
Elizabeth looked up, and Darcy seemed to realize the weight of his words only after they had been spoken.
He continued, more carefully, "I have thought you perceptive, intelligent, and compassionate." A pause. "And, occasionally, quite determined to prove yourself correct." The hint of amusement softened the seriousness of his words.
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, "Occasionally?"
Darcy's expression remained perfectly composed, "Perhaps more than occasionally.”
She attempted to look offended but failed entirely, "Mr. Darcy, I begin to suspect you are becoming rather bold."
He had enjoyed this banter with Elizabeth, and found it difficult to put a stop to it, despite the alarming impropriety of being in her room, at night, alone. He replied teasingly, "Do you? That is concerning."
"I do, but why should it be concerning?" she asked curiously.
"Because I had hoped my improvement would remain unnoticed for some time." The answer was so unexpectedly playful that Elizabeth could not help but laugh.
"Your improvement?" she asked with a smile.
"I believe you said I was incapable of making a joke, and I am here to prove you wrong, once again," he now wore an endearing smile, and she regarded him thoughtfully.
"I believe I must revise my opinion,” she paused before warning, “But do not become too confident. One or two successful attempts at humor does not entirely transform one's character."
Darcy inclined his head, "Of course not."
"It also does not excuse years of excessive solemnity. Nor does it mean I shall cease pointing out your faults when they present themselves."
Mr. Darcy offered her an excessively polite bow, “I perfectly understand."
Elizabeth smiled. There was something wonderfully strange about the ease of this bold exchange.
Once, she had believed every conversation with Mr. Darcy required careful defense and preparation.
Now, she found herself teasing him without hesitation and, more surprisingly, finding pleasure when he returned the favor.
Though, she would later discover that the difference was not that Mr. Darcy had changed into someone entirely different. Rather, it was that she was finally seeing the parts of him he had always kept hidden.