Mr. Darcy's Promise: A Pride and Prejudice Variation by Grace Belton

Author:Grace Belton [Belton, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, POV First Person, Darcy's POV, POV Alternating, DNF
Goodreads: 223476015
Publisher: Grace Belton
Published: 2025-01-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7: Elizabeth

I linger in the garden, my fingers absently trailing along the rose bush where Mr. Darcy and I stood but moments ago. His words echo in my mind: “I hope to prove myself worthy of your good opinion.” Such humility from a man I once accused of insufferable pride! Yet it was not his words alone that affected me so deeply – it was the earnest vulnerability in his expression, the careful way he maintained a proper distance while somehow making me feel as though we were the only two souls in existence.

“Lizzy! Whatever are you doing still in the garden? Come inside at once!” Mama’s voice shatters my reverie, and I withdraw my hand from the roses as though caught in some impropriety.

“I am coming, Mama,” I call back, though my feet seem reluctant to carry me toward the house. Through the window, I can see her arranging herself in her favorite chair, no doubt preparing for a thorough examination of every word, every gesture exchanged between Mr. Darcy and myself.

I pause at the garden door, stealing one last moment of peace. The memory of his voice – softer, gentler than I have ever heard it – lingers like the last notes of a familiar melody. “Miss Elizabeth,” he had said, my name on his lips carrying a weight of meaning I am not yet ready to examine too closely.

The sound of hoofbeats draws my attention to the lane, where I catch a glimpse of Mr. Darcy’s figure as he rides away. Something in the set of his shoulders, the careful dignity of his bearing, causes my heart to beat a touch faster. This reaction alarms me almost as much as the disappointing pang I feel watching him disappear around the bend.

“Really, Lizzy, I cannot comprehend your behavior!” Mama begins the moment I enter the drawing room. “Such a distinguished gentleman pays us the honor of a visit, and you could scarcely manage a proper smile! And when he complimented our garden, why did you not mention how much time you spend tending the roses?”

I sink into a chair, resigned to what I know will be a lengthy catalog of my social failings. Mary, bless her, attempts to offer some quotation about the virtue of modest behavior, but Mama waves away her intervention with an impatient flutter of her handkerchief.

“When Mr. Darcy specifically asked about your favorite walks, you might have invited him to join you some morning – with proper chaperonage, of course! Lady Lucas tells me that Charlotte always made a point of mentioning her daily constitutionals to gentlemen callers, and now look at her, married to a respectable clergyman!”

“I believe Mr. Darcy was merely making polite conversation, Mama,” I protest, though even as I speak the words, I recall the particular intensity of his gaze when he inquired about my habits. Had there been more meaning in that question than I allowed myself to acknowledge?

“Polite conversation!” Mama’s voice rises in pitch. “When a gentleman

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