Page 18 of A Different Impression

“He has apparently decided to take charge of his family,” Elizabeth admitted, though her expression remained difficult to read. “He overheard Lydia remark that Mama had told her the way to ‘get a husband’ was to flirt with him—which Lydia interpreted as kissing.”

Her mouth tightened briefly, but she went on, explaining the changes that had been made after his departure.

Darcy’s expression softened as he watched her struggle between hope and uncertainty. “Are you pleased by all these changes?”

Elizabeth laughed. “I am inordinately pleased,” she told him. “I just pray it will last. I always wished Papa would do something to ease Mama’s worries. He could have made more of an effort with the estate years ago; I know Uncle Gardiner has encouraged him many times to do more about the estate and my younger sisters. I am very relieved he is doing something before they do any harm to themselves or our reputations.”

He took her hand in his. “I am, too,” he whispered as his eyes flicked to her lips.

She took a small step back. “Mr Darcy, the lesson we have learnt here is that women cannot allow men to kiss them until they are formally engaged.”

“Marry me, Elizabeth?” he asked, winking at her.

“No, Mr Darcy,” she replied in the same teasing voice he had used. “I agreed to your calling on me only yesterday, and I would like to know you at least a se’nnight before I agree to bind my life to yours.”

He chuckled. “It was worth a try. When might I speak to your father about a formal courtship? I think he already suspects there is something between us.”

“Papa was rather pointed in his questions after your visit,” Elizabeth agreed. “I believe he sees the chess game between us on Sunday as some sort of gauntlet.”

She arched that eyebrow, and again he thought about kissing her. Granted, he thought about it frequently regardless, but when she looked at him like that, resisting the urge became nearly impossible.

“Perhaps Papa means to judge your suitability by the outcome,” she suggested, the corner of her mouth lifting. “I would be unwilling to make a wager upon that match if I were you, Mr Darcy. In fact, I would be unwilling to make any wagers on such a game. What happens if you should lose?”

“If I lose, I shall simply have to find some other way to convince your father of my worthiness.”

Darcy smiled, apparently untroubled by the prospect. Lifting his hand, he lightly caressed her cheek. “I look forward to the day I can kiss you, Elizabeth,” he breathed. “Nothing, other than your rejecting me outright, will stop me from courting you, whether formally or not, until I have you standing before me at the altar. And although I have never been married, based on my parents’ marriage, I believe the courting should continue even after that.”

His memories of his parents were vague in places, yet he remembered how often they had chosen to be together when duty did not separate them. In later years, his father had advised him that a husband’s courtship should not end merely because the wedding had taken place.

Elizabeth sighed and swayed slightly towards him, and Darcy’s restraint nearly deserted him. He allowed himself only the lightest brush of his lips against her forehead before retreating.

“Once we are openly courting, we will need to stop meeting like this,” she lamented.

The idea displeased Darcy, yet he knew she must be correct. Recalling how Georgiana had conducted her own courtship with George Wickham in secret, and how badly that had all turned out, he did not wish for anyone to be able to accuse him of impropriety.

“Yes,” he sighed. “But I have enjoyed having this time with you.”

They stood there silently for a minute, standing a little too close but not touching.

“My sister is presently in London with her companion,” he said after a moment. “I hope you will have the opportunity to meet her before long.”

“I hope so as well. You said she plays the piano?” Elizabeth replied.

“Yes, she is rather talented.”

“Perhaps she and Mary will become friends. Not that I do not want to befriend her as well, but, well… I imagine I will also be spending time with you. I believe she will find Mary good company,” she said in a rush.

He chuckled lightly. “I understood what you were saying, Elizabeth.”

She arched that eyebrow at him again. “You are making awfully free with my Christian name today, Mr Darcy,” she teased.

For a moment, he wondered if he was frightening her by moving too quickly. He had not even been aware of his lapse.

“Oh, forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, I did not realise…” he trailed off when he saw the bemused look on her face.

“I truly do not mind, Mr Darcy—it is just that I cannot return the favour,” she told him.

He understood her meaning. “Ah, well, my given name is Fitzwilliam, but no one calls me that except my Aunt Catherine. Fitzwilliam is also the surname of my mother’s family, so when she calls out ‘Fitzwilliam,’ two or three heads are liable to turn. She refers to me that way, but she also calls my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam by his surname, and my other cousin, Viscount Ashworth, was known as Fitzwilliam when he was at school, before our grandfather passed away. My friends call me Darcy, and my sister mostly calls me Brother. A long time ago, my mother called me William. I… you could use that name, if you would like.”