Page 26 of Some Natural Importance (Pride, Prejudice and Romance #3)

Upon reflection, he had decided that Elizabeth had no expectations of him.

While she was, at times, a mystery to him, he relished her sense of play and her desire to challenge him.

Darcy was so accustomed to people deferring to his opinion, it was shocking to find someone—let alone a young lady outside his social milieu with little experience in the world—who could meet him in conversation and compel his interest. She could, and she did.

She gave no quarter in conversation, yet her approach was not in anger or from a desire to prove herself superior.

Leaning his head back in his chair, Darcy closed his eyes and admitted to himself that yes, Elizabeth Bennet intrigued him, and that made her an object of his fascination.

Intelligence and humour were more valuable in a wife—in his idea of a wife—than the wealth, connexions, and beauty offered by his cousin and other ladies of the ton .

She was handsome, with a fine pair of eyes radiating intelligence and wit, and a light and pleasing figure.

She was kind and empathetic. She preferred country walks to city promenades, and appeared to enjoy simple pleasures and interesting conversation over banalities and flattery.

No gossip or social scheming with her; she said she loved to laugh and he had felt his heart lighten whenever he heard her laughter.

Oh yes, Elizabeth Bennet was his ideal, an ideal he had not known existed in his imagination, let alone longed for until mere weeks—or was it days? —ago.

Well, there it was, then. Darcy would never be a man who asked his daughter to marry due to his own needs and failings. But he was a man who could know his own heart and would make his own choice.

I would be a traitor to my family for the unpardonable sin of self-sovereignty.

Darcy opened his eyes and sat up.

So be it. I am a traitor.

He would even enjoy Mr Bennet’s victorious cry of ‘checkmate’.

Watching her aunt tend to Alice, Rose, and John while organising the house and the care of her new babe was both edifying and daunting for Elizabeth.

Jane seemed to fit into the natural flow of the family’s needs, devoting herself unconditionally to the children and household.

The little girl who had tended her dolls and her own baby sisters came effortlessly to such a role.

Jane had never been a restless person. Elizabeth and Lydia were the two least likely to stay still, stay clean, and stay inside the house.

But while Lydia’s need for activity could usually be sated by dancing or gossip, Elizabeth simply yearned to be out of doors.

The children enjoyed a ramble in the park, but their little legs could only carry them so far.

It was a walk in the country that Elizabeth craved, the kind of walk a proper young lady could not enjoy here in the city.

Or so she was told by her aunt, who took pity on her and suggested she walk to her uncle’s warehouse three streets over, and accompany him home for dinner.

It was a refreshing stroll, and if she did not have birds and trees to amuse her, she had chattering ladies and friendly street cats to observe and the smells and sights of the warehouses to anticipate.

When she did not find Mr Gardiner in his office, Elizabeth walked through the doorway into the first, smallest warehouse. Quickly she spotted her uncle standing with a taller man in the middle of the walkway.

Mr Darcy!

Was he investing in her uncle’s business? Purchasing goods? Could he afford them?

“Lizzy! Come to fetch me for dinner, have you?”

“Hello, Miss Elizabeth.”

He looked down at her, appearing equally startled by her appearance, but a smile played at his lips and there was a warmth in his eyes.

“Hello, Mr Darcy. Another book to return to my uncle?”

He chuckled. “No, my conscience is clear on that business.”

“Mr Darcy, in fact, had some curiosity about my warehouses.”

“Oh?” She peered up at the visitor and found an animated expression on his face.

“It is an impressive business,” he began. “Great wooden crates packed with straw, holding china, wine, and paintings. Rolled rugs from Persia, leaning against the walls like a great forest of wool cylinders. Jars of spices and boxes of books.”

As she listened, Elizabeth’s eyes travelled around the familiar space.

She had been visiting the warehouses since her uncle began leasing them some ten years earlier, and had always felt them to be magical places, full of goods from faraway lands and smelling of the exotic.

Mr Darcy, too, appeared to be under that spell.

She looked back at him to see his cheeks were a little pink.

“Forgive my childlike wonder.”

She smiled in spite of herself. “I have felt the same way since my first visit.”

The awkward silence was broken by Mr Gardiner clearing his throat. “We should not keep Mrs Gardiner waiting. Will you join us for dinner, Mr Darcy?”

His demurral and a reference to a previous engagement was a relief to Elizabeth, who thought a third visit to the Gardiners’ home was both fantastical—she could not have imagined meeting Mr Darcy again in London, let alone at the home of her relations—and perilous, if Mrs Bennet got wind of such attentions.

After Mr Gardiner secured his office and locked the warehouse doors, the trio walked out of the building.

“You are returning soon to Netherfield, sir? Or to one of your other estates?” Her teasing enquiry belied her curiosity.

“Yes, to Netherfield. I have some business to attend to there before going north.”

Surprised, Elizabeth pressed him. “Will you return when Mr Bingley concludes his business with the horse or come earlier and run Netherfield in his stead?”

He chuckled and gave her an unsatisfactory answer. “I shall do as needed.”

Mr Gardiner then spoke. “I say, Mr Darcy, my wife has told me of Pemberley’s many beauties, but I did not know your land holdings were so vast. I shan’t tell her if another of your estates rivals Pemberley.”

Mr Darcy smiled with a force that nearly caused Elizabeth to stumble.

He stopped in front of a large, crested carriage and looked at Mr Gardiner.

“I enjoyed discussing Pemberley and Lambton with Mrs Gardiner. I hope one day to give her, and you, Mr Gardiner, a tour of the estate. Until then, I thank you for allowing me a tour of your business, sir. A good day to you both.” He bent over Elizabeth’s hand and said softly, “Safe travels to you, Miss Elizabeth. I shall see you soon.”

Whatever questions Elizabeth had thought to ask her uncle about Mr Darcy’s visit evaporated, and the pair walked home in near silence.

Her uncle remained ever the gentleman at dinner but her aunt was greatly intrigued by the news of Mr Darcy’s visit.

Sly looks ensued until Elizabeth could excuse herself with a book and climb into bed, finally alone and able to think on the intriguing, handsome, confusing man.

But Jane would give her no peace. Her sister climbed in beside her, all wonder about Mr Darcy’s visit and what it might mean for Mr Bingley’s return to Netherfield.

“We shall be home in three days, and your Mr Bingley will arrive shortly thereafter—with his new horse,” she said, laughing.

“Lizzy, he is not mine, but I do like him. If he comes, I hope he brings his friend with him. Every chaperon needs a companion for those walks Mama will compel us to take.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Compelled for our own relief or for that of the gentlemen?”

Thinking on Mr Darcy was set aside for the night, but Elizabeth determined she would do so in the morning.

When the express from Longbourn arrived the next day, however, all thought of Mr Darcy was forgotten as distress and fear for her father’s health overwhelmed her.