Page 64 of Fortuitous Encounters

Flora replied, “Yes, you look more like a steward. The difference is… um—” then she looked to Elizabeth, who helpfully supplied, “—subtle?”

“Yes, that is it. Or… ambig… ambit—” Flora stumbled, so Elizabeth helped, “—ambiguous?”

“Yes.”

Flora did not know whether to feel chagrined because she did not know the big words, or happy because many of her age and station had no idea such words even existed.

“I think you have the right of it, Miss Flora,” Darcy said. “We have given them too much to think about, so the easiest way to deal with me is to not think about me at all until they can do so without effort—especially with Bingley and Miss Bennet taking the lion’s share of the attention.”

Elizabeth laughed gaily and Flora joined, “Why, Mr Darcy, do you imply the neighbourhood gossips are lazy?”

“I do.”

“I am all astonishment!”

By that time, they had completed a large circuit around the shrubbery. Elizabeth or Darcy could have happily managed another mile, but Flora was expected back home.

Darcy organised a maid to walk back with her, which Elizabeth liked very much. Flora could have walked the mile on her own, but it was nice to take care of the child, and it showed the gentleman’s sense of responsibility. He could well have sent her own mother for the task, but it was more proper to ask the butler to assign someone.

As Flora left, Darcy asked, “Would you care for a bit more of a ramble? We could get another footman or just stay in sight of the house.”

“I prefer the latter,” Elizabeth replied softly. She would ordinarily take a much more extensive ramble (both farther and faster), but something in his tone suggested more talking and less walking was in order.

They walked in silence a few minutes, then Darcy said, “I feel like I know all about you, your family, and your town; but you know next to nothing about me, aside from the little we shared in this walk.”

“I disagree. I know you are a good man! You are conscientious, you care deeply for your sister and cousin, you are willing to help a friend, you are polite to Mr Bingley’s sisters who do not in my opinion deserve it, you tolerate my family well which is sometimes beyond even me, you are kind and respectful to servants and children, you treat Mrs Redgrave like a trusted friend, you are well-read and our tastes seem similar, you can be quite funny when you want to be, you went out of your way to save me the minor embarrassment of appearing with muddy hems and boots. I know a great deal about you, Mr Darcy.”

He gave her a good-sized smile at her approbation, but continued, “Yet, you know little about my situation in life. Are you not curious?”

“I admit to some curiosity, as would anyone—but I am in no hurry to satisfy it. I imagine it will become known eventually—such things always are—but I can wait until the time is right. Much like you, I am enjoying our little prank. I know all I need to know about you at this time and trust you to tell me more if or when I need to know it.”

Darcy accepted her at her word, and for perhaps the first time in his life, he had someone who liked him for himself alone. It was a good feeling, and he hoped it would survive after she learned more. He mostly hoped she would still treat him the same after the inevitable revelation. However, since she was in no hurry to learn about his situation, and he was in no hurry to disclose it, he decided to let it go for a time and canvas another subject.

“I briefly mentioned my sister with Miss Flora,” he said reflectively. “I would like to tell you more about her.”

“It will be my pleasure to hear.”

“She just turned sixteen. Our mother died when she was young and I was away at school. Our father died when she was eleven, leaving her care to me and my cousin, who was a major in the army but a colonel now.”

“I am surprised he did not pick an aunt.”

“If you knew my aunts, your confusion would be quickly resolved,” he replied grimly.

Elizabeth could not resist a laugh. “Oh, you are a wicked man—as we previously established.”

“That I suppose I am,” he replied with his own laugh, which Elizabeth liked very much. He normally looked somewhat stoic, but his face lit up when he laughed and she resolved to try to get him to do so more often—for her own benefit, if nothing else.

“My sister is shy and reserved, and it was exacerbated by a terrible experience she had last summer. A man tried to impose himself on her. He was my father’s godson, so she knew him from childhood. He played on her connection to worm his way into her good graces. With clever lies, he convinced her they were in love and got her to agree to elope.”

Elizabeth gasped but was unable to decide if she was more shocked that a man would try to elope with a fifteen-year-old girl, or that Mr Darcy was willing to tell her about it. It seemed a frightfully distressing thing to do, and quite risky for the girl’s reputation. Naturally, that made her more strongly suspect he was closer to prince than pauper, since nobody eloped with a steward’s daughter, but that was a subject for another day.

“Good lord, I hope you stopped it!” she said with a gasp.

“Just barely,” he said, staring miserably at the ground. “I arrived a day early by chance and ended the charade. He said some very ugly things within her hearing. It was probably for the best in the long term, but terrible for her to experience hearing a man say nobody in his right mind would ever like her for anything except her dowry. She was, and still is, devastated.”

“I agree it is probably for the best,” she replied softly, still unable to comprehend the awfulness of the situation. She could know about a tenth part of what the poor girl felt at best.

“She will eventually recover from being enlightened about the dark side of the world,” she said after a minute’s thought. “I think it would be harder if she only had your word on his bad character, so as awful as it was for her to hear, she will get over it.”