“Don’t be angry, darling. Come here.” He pulled her down next to him on the sofa and she went grudgingly, her body small and stiff next to his. He couldn’t help chuckling again and turned her chin gently towards him. He stroked her cheek softly as his laughter faded and she eventually raised her eyes to his. He traced his fingers over her lips and looked at her questioningly. “May I?”

She nodded reluctantly and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, first one and then the other, before kissing her more fully. She stayed stiff and immobile, refusing to give him the satisfaction of returning his kiss if he was only going to make fun of her.

He chuckled again and said quietly, “My beautiful, stubborn little woman. You are right.” Her eyes snapped to his. “I would not like a woman who kissed every man she came across, but I would like a woman who kissed the one she was engaged to.”

He kissed her again, swiftly, and pulled back to smile at her charmingly, as if he knew a great joke that she couldn’t possibly understand.

“I am not stubborn,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. He laughed again.

“Whatever you say, my love.” He leaned back and crossed one leg over his knee, the very picture of relaxation and comfort, which only vexed Elizabeth more, as she was feeling decidedly tense and uncomfortable.

Taking advantage of his repose, she rose swiftly and crossed the room to the instrument.

“I shall play for you,” she said simply.

“Very well,” he replied.

“Thank you for the permission,” she said sarcastically.

He laughed again, his chest rumbling. Elizabeth began pounding the keys at an awkward volume and kept her eyes on the music. She would not give him the satisfaction of looking at him. Teasing man!

She spent a full forty minutes at the pianoforte, playing songs from memory and eventually taking out the piece she had recently learned and playing it to perfection. She ended with a gentle flourish and leaned back, much calmer and pleased with her efforts.

“That was beautiful,” Mr. Darcy said from his place across the room.

His voice was sincere and his smile genuine, so she responded in kind, “Thank you.”

He rose suddenly and came toward her. “It’s a pleasant evening. Shall we take a turn in the garden?”

She nodded and took his hand to rise, and he placed it on his arm. They walked slowly on the paths near the house, neither saying anything for several minutes.

“What is the schedule for our journey, or is it not yet fixed?” she asked.

“Do you mean the wedding tour itself or the events leading up to it?” he clarified.

“The latter,” she replied.