An Unexpected Ally

Part 9

Meals at Longbourn had improved a little since Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it his habit to join them on occasion, and this evening's was no different, yet Elizabeth found her appetite lacking. She moved the food around on her plate in silence until she heard what sounded like laughter. Turning, she was surprised to see that Mr Darcy was smiling at the anecdote Colonel Fitzwilliam delivered with his characteristic humour and wit, and she rather regretted that she had missed the bulk of the story.

"...And so the whole thing worked out to my benefit, in the end." Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled, self-deprecatingly. "Although I could not have known it would at the time."

"As it has done with your meeting Jane," Mrs Bennet remarked, with a suspiciously tearful smile.

Elizabeth swallowed a sigh and turned back to her plate, but her reaction did not go unnoticed by Mr Darcy, who glanced at her, his features abruptly sinking into his more habitual expression of discontent.

"You do not share your mother's sentiments?" His words were low and shielded behind the hand that lifted his glass to his lips, so that it took Lizzy a moment to realise he had addressed a genuine question towards her. She glanced up, meeting his gaze and surprised to see curiosity burning in his dark eyes.

"I do not share my mother's emotion," she clarified, with a tight smile. "I care only that my sister is happy."

"And is she?"

This was a blunt question, and Lizzy was half-inclined to refuse it an answer. What right had Mr Darcy to enquire after Jane's happiness, as if he had ever cared to consider it when he wrenched Mr Bingley away from them? Yet, she reasoned, without Mr Bingley's absence there could have been no Colonel Fitzwilliam and certainly no engagement. She met Mr Darcy's gaze without blinking.

"Of course. She is engaged to marry a good man."

"But does she love him?" Darcy returned his glass to the table, setting down his cutlery and turning to face Elizabeth more directly. He leaned close enough that they might speak in whispers, safe in the knowledge that they would not be overheard by the rest of the table, who were now speculating wildly on the practicalities of the forthcoming wedding.

"You claim I do not approve of this match, that I did not approve of your sister's friendship with Charles Bingley. Perhaps you are right."

Lizzy's breath caught. Any one of a dozen vitriolic responses flooded her mind, but before she could offer a word of them, though, Mr Darcy had begun to speak again, his gaze pleading with her to allow him an explanation.

"I wished for my friend – as I wish for my cousin - to marry someone worthy of them. Someone who would love them."

His voice seemed to catch on the word love and Lizzy bit back the sharp retort that suggested Mr Darcy knew nothing of love. A light burned in his dark eyes that suggested this was not the case, and his protestations were not entirely ill-founded.

"My question, then, is whether your sister loves my cousin." He swallowed, reaching for his glass once more and wetting his lips before continuing. "I wish for them both to be happy, Elizabeth. Both of them. Do you not wish the same?"

"Of course." Lizzy's voice was constricted but she did not look away from him.

"Perhaps, then, we can work together."

"To part them?" Elizabeth gained confidence, her words rushing out in a sharp whisper that would have carried beyond their twosome had Lydia not chosen that moment to make a loud squeal about the likelihood of a foreign tour, once Jane and Colonel Fitzwilliam were married.

"You forget, Mr Darcy," Lizzy continued, in a subdued tone. "I am not Caroline Bingley. I care to see my sister happy -"

"Then you will care to ensure she marries for love. Nothing less than that."

Elizabeth frowned. Could this be Mr Darcy? Speaking of love as if it was all-important, all-consuming? She watched the shadows play across his features and wondered what had happened to change him in the short time they had been apart. She had convinced herself she knew Fitzwilliam Darcy well, understood completely his makeup and motivations. He had been back in her orbit for barely a day and everything she once thought a solid fact was cast into doubt.

"Jane is far more pragmatic than I," she began, wrenching her gaze away from his for some inexplicable fear that he might see beyond it to the truth she was not yet fully willing to share.

Mr Darcy was silent for a long moment before responding, and his answer, when it came, shocked Lizzy to her core.

"Does my cousin not deserve more than pragmatism upon which to build a future? Don't we all?"

"Darcy! What are you whispering about?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam's voice was jaunty and he called Darcy back to a conversation with Mr and Mrs Bennet and the rest of Elizabeth's sisters about an adventure in their shared youth at Pemberley. This was kindly done, for the mention of his estate gave Mr Darcy the confidence and enthusiasm to speak warmly and well, naming places and people he held in high esteem. Lizzy was silent, for once, eager to listen and learn more of the man she once thought she understood so completely.

I was mistaken, she realised, the remnants of her meal cooling untouched on her plate. She could not help but smile when Darcy told of climbing onto the roof of an outbuilding - Richard's idea, he was quick to insist - and the consequences that came when neither boy could climb down and a storm rolled in, leaving them exposed and soaked to the bone until at last a search party found them and brought both boys inside for comfort and punishment in equal measure.

"I am convinced our governess found the worst medicine she could find and made us drink double the draught we required so that we would not only recover without illness but also learn our lesson not to go adventuring in bad weather again."

The whole table laughed at this, even Lizzy, who was still smiling when Darcy turned back to meet her gaze, his eyes bright with amusement and affection and his features free - for once - of anything approaching a scowl.