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“By Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, incredulity clear in his voice. “That is absurd. She had no notion of my wealth or position when we met. Indeed, Mr Bennet has declined my offer of assistance in managing some temporary difficulties with the Longbourn estate.”

“If I may speak for myself,” she interrupted and he instantly inhaled at the tone she used.

It was restrained but tinged with displeasure.

He understood then he ought not to have spoken over her as though she were not present.

It was what she had disliked about Jonathan Blackfriars.

He wanted to make her into an ornament without thoughts and opinions of her own and in his desire to shield her from scrutiny, he had gone down a similar path.

“Of course,” he said. “I merely wished to dispel any notion of impropriety, but you are more than capable of doing so yourself.”

“And I thank you,” she said, her shoulders relaxing before turning to his cousin. “I met your cousin by chance, and we decided to wed before I knew how vast his wealth and estate were. It was no consideration of mine; I can assure you of that. He saved me from a most unfortunate fate.”

“And she did the same for me,” Darcy added. “You know the fate I was destined for.”

“You’ve always been decisive to a fault.”

“Sometimes circumstances demand swift action, and sometimes one recognises what one needs with unexpected clarity,” Darcy said. “This match was most advantageous for both of us, even if it does not look that way to our families.”

He noticed Elizabeth’s breath catch at his words. He had written to his cousin, of course, to tell him exactly what had happened and thus there was no need to pretend.

“Well,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, setting down his cup, “I must say you seem remarkably well suited. There is already an ease between you that many real couples never achieve.”

Their eyes met across the table and he saw at once that Elizabeth was struck by this statement as much as he was. Could it be that she thought of him as more than simply a friend, a solution to her troubles? Did she harbour similar feelings to his?

His cousin soon interrupted the conversation, “Pray, Elizabeth if I may call you that, tell me how you find Pemberley. Has my cousin shown you the full extent of the grounds yet?”

Darcy was grateful for the change of subject, though he noted how his cousin deftly turned the conversation to personal matters rather than social ones—a tactic Richard had always employed when gathering intelligence.

“Not entirely, for there is much to see,” Elizabeth replied. “Though we have walked extensively through the gardens and woods nearest the house. Yesterday I ventured as far as the old stone bridge.”

“Ah, the bridge! One of the finest vantage points on the estate,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, leaning forward enthusiastically. “As children, Darcy and I would fish from its arches for hours. Did he tell you of the time he fell in while attempting to land a particularly large trout?”

“He did not,” Elizabeth said, her interest piqued. “I confess I find it difficult to imagine Mr Darcy in such an undignified predicament.”

“I was ten years old,” Darcy protested, taking a swig from his wine.

“And soaked to the skin,” his cousin added with relish. “He insisted on continuing to fish, despite his chattering teeth and blue lips. Always stubborn, even then.”

“Some might call it fortitude,” Darcy said, meeting Elizabeth’s amused glance with a rueful one of his own.

“A quality Mrs Darcy appears to share,” the Colonel observed. “It must require considerable resolve to manage the transition to mistress of an estate such as this, particularly with so little preparation.”

“I have excellent guidance,” Elizabeth acknowledged, with a nod towards Darcy that pleased him inordinately. “Both from Mr Darcy and from the staff, who have been most patient with my inexperience.”

“She has a natural aptitude for management,” Darcy said, hearing the pride in his own voice and unable to suppress it. “Already, Mrs Reynolds consults her on matters she would previously have brought only to me.”

“High praise indeed,” Colonel Fitzwilliam remarked. “Mrs Reynolds is not one to relinquish authority lightly.”

Their conversation continued in this manner through another cup of tea, touching on estate matters, local news, and the Colonel’s military duties.

Throughout, Darcy found himself increasingly relaxed and comfortable, the presence of both his cousin and his wife creating an atmosphere of domestic harmony he had not experienced since his parents’ deaths.

As they rose from the table, Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to Elizabeth. “Mrs Darcy, might I impose upon you for a tour of the conservatory? I have not seen it for some while.”

“I should be delighted,” Elizabeth replied, “though I must warn you, my knowledge of exotic plants is limited to what I have gleaned from books.”

“I have business to attend to with Parker,” Darcy said, suddenly conscious that his cousin might wish for private conversation with Elizabeth.

The thought caused a momentary unease, quickly dismissed.

Richard was, after all, the person he trusted most in the world. “Will you stay for dinner, Richard?”

“If the invitation is extended.”

“Always,” Darcy assured him. “Elizabeth, shall I join you in the conservatory when I have concluded my meeting with Mr Parker?”

“We shall expect you there,” she replied, her smile warming him unexpectedly.

As he made his way to the estate office, Darcy reflected on the morning’s exchange. His cousin had observed an ease between them that he had felt but not fully acknowledged.

He recalled the fierce protectiveness he had felt when his family’s attitudes were mentioned, the pride he took in her quick mind and adaptability, the pleasure her smile brought him. These were not the sentiments he had anticipated when proposing their alliance.

Moreover, he had been entirely truthful in his statement to Richard, he had recognised something in Elizabeth with unexpected clarity that day in the park.

Something that had compelled him to make the most impulsive decision of his life—a decision he found himself unable to regret, despite the complications it entailed.

With an effort, he drew his mind back to the business at hand. His steward, Mr Parker would arrive shortly with questions about the south tenant farms, and Darcy could not afford to be distracted by personal considerations, however pressing they had become.

But the thought lingered, like a whispered question awaiting an answer. What if their pretence was pretence no more?