Page 26 of Twice Chosen

Elizabeth looked toward the shelves. "Perhaps I am beginning to think being amused is not always the same as being kind."

Mr. Bennet stared at her.

"Good heavens," he said at last. "Mr. Darcy has made you solemn."

This time she laughed. "No one could accomplish that."

But the remark followed her from the room.

At Netherfield, Darcy was experiencing his own smaller corrections. He had always thought himself a good landlord and a responsible brother, and by most standards he had been. Elizabeth had spent decades teaching him that responsibility without warmth sometimes left people grateful and lonely at once.

So when Bingley wanted to ride to a tenant farm whose roof had been damaged by wind, Darcy went with him instead of remaining behind with estate papers. When an elderly tenant spoke for fifteen minutes about a grandson's apprenticeship, Darcy asked the boy's name. When Caroline laughed at a local gentleman's accent after he left, Darcy said simply, "He was our guest."

Caroline stared.

Bingley stared harder.

On the ride back Bingley finally asked, "Did someone scold you?"

Darcy nearly fell from his horse. "What?"

"You behave like a man who has recently been given a list of faults and is determined to defeat it."

Darcy looked ahead. "Perhaps I noticed a few myself."

Bingley was quiet for several yards. "I like this version of you."

Darcy swallowed unexpectedly. "Do you?"

"Mostly. You are still terrifying when you frown."

"Good."

Bingley laughed and urged his horse ahead.

Darcy watched him go and thought of Elizabeth telling him, many years into marriage, that kindness did not make a man smaller. It merely made him easier to approach.

He had believed her then.

It was stranger to practice the lesson before she had taught it.

Chapter Seven

The Small Things

For the next two weeks Elizabeth and Darcy tested one another without admitting, even privately, that they were doing so.

It became ridiculous.

At Lucas Lodge, Sir William insisted that everyone sample a bowl of spiced punch his cook had prepared. Darcy accepted a glass, lifted it, and frowned almost imperceptibly. Elizabeth, standing with Charlotte near the pianoforte, caught the expression and said before she could stop herself, "You never liked cloves."

Darcy's eyes moved to her at once. "I have not tried the punch."

"One can smell them from here."

That was reasonable. Entirely reasonable.

Elizabeth pretended to return her attention to Charlotte, but she felt Darcy watching her for the next several minutes.