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The following day found Elizabeth full of nerves.

Mr. Darcy was essentially a stranger, but she would be spending an entire hour in his company as they drove through Mary’s estate.

Even if there hadn’t been an emotionally fraught history between them, she would have been nervous, but their shared painful past made everything so much worse.

At two in the afternoon, Mr. Darcy arrived at Braydon Hall asking for Elizabeth. He was shown into the drawing room where she waited, and he was clearly ill at ease. He did not know whether she would accept his invitation, since she had sent no reply to his letter.

Elizabeth immediately felt bad for the man, so she said, “There is no need to be quite so nervous, Mr. Darcy. I have not rejected your invitation. I have, however, made an alteration. I do not ride, you see, so I cannot go riding with you. However, I do have a sweet little phaeton that we can use to go driving instead. Will that do?”

Mr. Darcy’s nervous face relaxed a bit. “That sounds delightful.”

“It will take a couple of minutes for the phaeton to be ready,” said Elizabeth. “Won’t you sit down?”

Once he was seated, he said, “This is a pleasant home. Your sister has been rather fortunate.”

Elizabeth did not know how to respond to that.

Her feelings about Mary’s first marriage were mixed.

On the one hand, she thought it was entirely unreasonable for Papa to allow Mary to marry someone so much older than herself.

On the other hand, Mary had actually seemed happy in her marriage, and she had grown into a wonderful, independent lady who Elizabeth looked up to.

“I think, on the whole, I would agree with you,” she said.

“Mr. Allen was a very good husband to Mary.” Not wishing to continue the subject, she said, “By the way, how is your aunt? The last time I saw Lady Matlock was in April. I am sure Mary has heard from her, but she does not read me all her letters.”

Darcy’s face relaxed into a small smile, and Elizabeth found the expression made him quite handsome.

“Mrs. Allen asked me the same question two weeks ago, though she used it to remind me that Lady Matlock would be quite displeased by my behavior. As far as I know, she is doing well. She is currently at Matlock, though she will be returning to London after Christmas.”

They chatted for a bit about London and a few mutual acquaintances until a footman came in to announce that Elizabeth’s phaeton was ready.

They walked outside, and Elizabeth could see that the stablemaster was already mounted on a horse which was standing behind the phaeton, ready to chaperone them on their drive.

The footman produced the steps which she always used to climb into her vehicle.

Once she was seated, Mr. Darcy climbed up on the other side.

Without a word, Elizabeth lifted the reins and they were off.

There was silence between them, and Elizabeth began to wonder if she was going to be required to begin the conversation again.

“I wonder, Mr. Darcy,” she said, “why you were so insistent on this outing, yet you are not saying anything. Did you have something particular in mind when you requested it?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Darcy turn to her, though she kept her gaze forward, focusing on guiding the horse.

“I cannot say that I had any particular subject in mind,” he answered, “but I did have a very important purpose to my request.”

“Oh? And what is that?” she asked.

“All I wanted was to be near you and hear you speak,” he said.

The simplicity of the statement combined with the earnestness in his voice to create one of the most compelling declarations Elizabeth had ever heard. She had heard attraction and love described in many ways, but none were so compact yet so all-encompassing as this one.

Against her will, she looked at the man in the carriage beside her.

His expression was still blank, much like it had been when he had offered his offensive compliment at Lucas Lodge, but there was something in his eyes that belied his expression, a gentle heat.

It reminded her of banked coals which provide some warmth but mostly gave the promise of a good blaze once they have been stirred up.

She did not know what to make of this man, so she resorted to flippancy.

“As loquacious as I can be, Mr. Darcy, even I cannot speak into a void for long,” she said. “If you wish for me to speak, you must do so as well.”

“Is there anything in particularly you would like to talk of?” he asked.

“Tell me about Pemberley,” Elizabeth said. “I have heard snippets of how beautiful and grand it is, but I know nothing specific. Who better to get information from than the master himself?”

“That is a very broad subject,” he said. “Are you asking about the size or elegance of the house? Perhaps you want to know more about the landscape or the gardens. I could also go on at length about the tenants and servants.”

“Tell me what you love about it rather than what you think I want to hear,” said Elizabeth. “I think nothing could give me a more accurate picture than that.”

And he did.

He told her about one of his tenants who knew more about his wheat and his turnips than he did about his own children. Fortunately, the man was married to a very good woman who was excellent at taking care of the details in the man’s life as well as his children.

He told her about the time when the sheep from the home farm had all managed to get into the ornamental gardens on one side of the house. They had been nibbling on the hedges and flowers for a full day before they were found, and it took a year for all the damage to grow back completely.

He told her how one of his maids had managed to attract the eye of a very prosperous farmer. Both her parents and his objected to the match, but they married anyway and have been happy for ten years or more.

Elizabeth learned more about Mr. Darcy in the next hour than she ever imagined possible.

It was clear, from his choice of what to discuss, that he was not particularly enamored with his wealth or status.

What mattered most to him, what made him happy, was his home, his family, and the people who lived on his land, whether they were servants, farmers, clergymen, or shop owners.

If Elizabeth had not been so blinded by his poor behavior, if she had not been so resistant to giving up her anger, she could have known this man weeks ago.

It was not all her fault. After all, Mr. Darcy had been hiding his true self behind a wall of dignity and pride, but it was Elizabeth who had refused to see when he dismantled that wall.

When they arrived back at the house, Elizabeth allowed Mr. Darcy to help her out of the phaeton. The footman still placed the stairs next to it, but Mr. Darcy offered a firm hand to help her steady herself as she descended.

His hand was warm, and his strength was clear based on how steady he was when she leaned into his hold for balance.

Elizabeth could see that the stable boy was bringing Mr. Darcy’s horse around in preparation for the gentleman’s departure. Intending to say farewell, she looked up into Mr. Darcy’s face and found something that took her breath away.

His expression had relaxed into a gentle smile, and the banked coals in his eyes were much warmer now. Elizabeth felt herself grow warm from such a heated gaze. It made her want to be closer to him, much like one moves closer to a fire to better feel its heat, but such a thing was impossible.

Mr. Darcy took her hand and bowed over it. For a moment, Elizabeth hoped he would kiss it, but he did not. He said, “I am most grateful for your time today, Miss Elizabeth. It was a delightful drive. May I call on you again in a day or two?”

“It was, indeed, a delightful drive, Mr. Darcy,” she said. “I would be very happy to see you again whenever you choose to call.”

“Thank you,” he said in such a low voice that it was just above a whisper.

He then climbed on his horse and rode away.

Elizabeth surprised herself by watching as he left rather than immediately going inside. He had a good seat on his horse, and his firmly upright posture hinted at the fact that he was likely far stronger than he looked.

She marveled to herself how much her opinion of Mr. Darcy had changed in just one day, just one hour.

She shook herself out of her reverie by reminding herself that if her opinion had changed so much in a short time, it could always change more in the future.

It took time to get to know a person, but she fervently hoped Mr. Darcy would give her that time, for she truly wished to know him better.

When he was out of sight, only then did she turn and ascend the steps to the front door.