Page 22 of Fortuitous Encounters

“Good heavens!”

“My thoughts exactly… or at least, it is a ladylike approximation of my thoughts,” Fletcher replied, which set the two to laughing like brother and sister.

It was incongruous, moving from the slightly rarified world of the gentry to the point where her most stalwart companions were shopkeepers and servants. It was an improvement. She was increasingly certain she would leave the gentry behind and doubted she would rue the loss.

“Shall we return to the cursing and threats?”

“I do not know if Miss Bennet is serious or not, but I suppose she is testing her own mettle as well. I will relay your concerns in appropriately polite terms, and then perhaps we should let them test their mettle amongst themselves.”

“You are a wise man, Mr Fletcher.”

The Herberts returned, and the four friends enjoyed a leisurely game of Wist, temporarily untroubled by the chaos engulfing the Bennets.

Fletcher returned two days later, reporting no cursing was required.

The Noble Visitor

It was a full week before Elizabeth spoke with anyone but Fletcher, the Herberts, or their servants.

Aside from the chaos engulfing her family, and the not-negligible chance she could be forced into a life of torture, Elizabeth was enjoying the company at the lending library. The Herberts were kind, loving, and generous. Their servants were kind and patient, as shown by the lack of censure at her first attempt to cook (they did not even laugh at her… very much anyway). Mr Herbert was like a naughty older brother or uncle, always ready with a quip or clever observation. All in all, given the dramatic reduction in the silliness of her life, it was quite an improvement.

It was Monday of the third week before she had the visitor she could not decide if she anticipated or dreaded.

“Mr Darcy is here, Lizzy. Will you see him?”

“Of course!”

The Derbyshire gentleman entered the back room with his usual upright posture, noble bearing, and stony mask—but ruined it by breaking into a slight smile. It was far more modest than Mr Bingley commenting on the quality of breakfast, but considering his usual countenance, it was as shocking as a handstand might have been.

“Miss Elizabeth,” he said with his smile.

Why did he not call her ‘Miss Bennet’ since Jane was not present? It was likely habit and correct enough.

“Mr Darcy, welcome. I cannot begin to thank you for all you have done.”

“I did not do it for gratitude, but I shall accept such as long as it is in moderation and proportional to the effort.”

Elizabeth puzzled over that for a minute before belatedly remembering her manners.

“Will you have a seat? Would you like tea?”

“Yes to both, thank you.”

They sat rather awkwardly which was hardly surprising.

She finally said, “You may assume as much thanks as you can take without being embarrassed. I would have been quite lost without Mr Fletcher.”

“I doubt that,” he snorted, which left her both puzzled and laughing slightly. It seemed so out of character for the man she knew, but the lessons from Mrs Herbert reminded her she knew less than nothing about him.

“I suppose, but I shall reserve the right to declaim any such praise.”

He nodded, likely bored by the exchange already.

“I believe Fletcher keeps you abreast of most of the news?”

“He does.”

Darcy sighed. “Might we put all that aside long enough for me to proffer an apology?”