Colonel Fitzwilliam was fond of hearing Elizabeth play and often asked her to favor them with a song. He turned her pages and laughed with her behind the pianoforte while Darcy suffered his aunt and cousin on the other side of the room, a distracted look on his face. Elizabeth wondered what he was about, frowning so at everything that was said and glaring in her direction every few minutes. She knew her playing wasn’t perfect, but it was much improved and Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed to find her perfectly entertaining. She told herself to put Mr. Darcy out of her mind and focused on charming and being charmed by the good colonel.

Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam called again Saturday morning. Darcy often sat slightly back from the group and Elizabeth wondered why he bothered coming if he wasn’t going to speak to anyone. They were in company often enough; surely he was accustomed to their presence by now? She thought his lack of conversation was indicative of his belief in his own superiority and it confirmed that her assessment of him in Hertfordshire had been correct. She had seen him nearly every day that week, but she doubted he’d spoken more than a dozen sentences altogether. Insufferable man.

Monday, he was in the garden when she left Rosings and he fell into step beside her, alternately making dull conversation and watching her in a way that made her feel inadequate somehow. She raised her chin in defiance and walked on, hurrying her pace. He was there again the day after that, and the day after that. Thursday, Mr. Darcy was not waiting when she stepped out of the house, and Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief and walked on her own.

Friday, he was awaiting her outside Rosings’ side door, and she thought she saw him jump a little when she arrived, as if he had been leaning against the wall waiting for her. For the first time, and perhaps belatedly, she wondered if he was meeting her on purpose. She had thought he simply liked to walk in the garden on a sunny afternoon before tea, a perfectly normal habit, and eventually their paths would stop crossing, but now she wondered if that wasn’t the case. She couldn’t really blame him. Three weeks at Rosings could make anyone long for escape.

“If I didn’t know better, Mr. Darcy, I would guess you were hoping to spot me,” she teased. Elizabeth was never one to hold in her thoughts when Mr. Darcy was involved.

He looked away for a moment, before giving her a small smile.

“Did you enjoy your music today, Miss Bennet?”

“Yes, I did. I have almost mastered this piece.” She gestured to the music sheets she was carrying. “And how did you spend your morning?”

It was the first time she had asked him anything beyond the weather and he seemed pleased by her interest.