They Collude, He Cherishes

Elizabeth had found a volume of Wordsworth’s poetry she intended to replace after Lydia’s so-called accidental tea-spilling incident. As she rounded a corner, she almost collided with Mr. Darcy, who was engrossed in a leather-bound tome.

“Mr. Darcy,” she said, startled but composed, dropping into a small curtsey.

Darcy looked up in surprise before bowing slightly. “Miss Elizabeth,” he said, his tone warmer than the night before. “What a pleasant surprise. I did not expect to see you here.”

“Nor I you,” Elizabeth replied with a smile. “I thought you might be assisting Mr. Bingley in learning the ways of estate management.”

Darcy smiled faintly. “I find the solitude of a bookshop more agreeable than the company of others, at times.” There was a flicker of something like discomfort at his own words.

Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I share your preference for solitude, though there is a peculiar peace to be found among books, is there not?”

“Indeed. Last night’s assembly was not entirely without merit, either.” His gaze met hers. “I found the company more engaging than I had anticipated.”

Elizabeth laughed softly. “Enlightening, Mr. Darcy? I am not sure everyone in attendance would share that view.”

“Perhaps not,” he replied. “But I find myself awkward with strangers. I do not perform well.”

Before Elizabeth could respond, the sound of girlish giggles shattered the quiet. Lydia and Kitty Bennet came bustling through the door, Lydia ever exuberant and already sharing the latest gossip at full volume.

“There’s Lizzy!” Lydia exclaimed, pointing with the enthusiasm of someone who had never once considered restraint. “And look Kitty, she’s in conversation with a stranger!”

Elizabeth flushed. Darcy’s countenance remained impassive, though his eyes darkened.

“Lydia,” Elizabeth said, her tone firm. “Mind your manners. I was introduced to Mr. Darcy last evening at the assembly.”

Lydia shot her sister a petulant glare. “The same assembly I was forced to leave early because you tore my dress?”

“Lydia, you know that is not what happened.”

With an impish shrug, Lydia dismissed her entirely. “I simply found it curious that you should be here with a gentleman and thought it best to ensure your virtue remained intact.”

Kitty tugged at Lydia’s sleeve. Reluctantly, Lydia allowed herself to be steered away, though not without one final glance over her shoulder at the most handsome man she had ever seen.

Once they had gone, Darcy turned back to Elizabeth.

“Your sisters are, spirited,” he remarked, a bemused smile softening his features. “Are they related to Miss Bingley?”

Elizabeth could only shake her head. “Spirited is one word for it,” then she sighed continuing, “I definitely understand your comparison.” 

Later, as Darcy accepted his parcel of books and prepared to depart, he turned to her one last time.

“I hope our paths will cross again soon, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Perhaps at another assembly?” she offered.

“Perhaps,” he replied. His gaze lingered a moment longer than propriety suggested before he departed with quiet grace.

Elizabeth stood alone among the shelves, her father’s books in her arms, a small smile she could not quite explain tugging at her lips.

What an odd and unexpected morning, she thought. He continues to be more complex than I first assumed.

She set off toward Longbourn entirely unaware that across the street, two pairs of eyes had been watching, and that the ripples from one brief encounter had already begun to spread.