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in manners, and colored deep red with embarrassment. She laughed this time, causing Jane to turn her head in question. Mr. Darcy allowed himself to laugh, too. He slowly raised his gaze and met her eyes, which were soft and tender and excessively amused. He breathed a sigh of relief that she was not upset with him as he returned a smile and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
    Elizabeth adjusted in her seat and, sitting upright a bit more, smiled her acceptance of his apology before turning to Jane to say, “No Jane, I had not the chance to share with Mr. Darcy my most embarrassing reason for being afraid of horses. Thank you for bringing it up. I am sure Mr. Darcy is too much of a gentleman to ask me to tell the story though.”
    “Indeed, no! Miss Elizabeth, this story sounds too good to miss, and I am not so much the gentleman as you might think, so please — do enlighten me.” He smiled cheekily at her jibe.
    Elizabeth and Jane laughed together, and Elizabeth thought that she was not sure she knew this man at all. He is so charming and playful. Who would have guessed stuffy Mr. Darcy had it in him to lighten up this way? Her breathing quickened as she contemplated how she might be falling for him. How absurd! After one morning? It cannot be; we are nothing alike. The thought struck her with a bit of sadness. They were very different. He was rich and from circles in society that she could never touch, even if she cared to. She was an insignificant country gentleman’s daughter. He was probably expected to marry an heiress or someone with impressive ancestry. I have nothing to tempt him. He is out of my reach, and I cannot believe I am thinking about it at all. It cannot be. She was surprised at how the realization of the difference in status, and the impossibility of a match between them, struck her with a pang in her heart. Unconsciously, her face drooped a bit in momentary sadness.
    Mr. Darcy watched the play of emotions dance across her face. She had been happy — exuberant really — and then she seemed to be struck with something. When her face turned down with worry and sadness, he jumped in, “Miss Elizabeth, if it gives you discomfort to share the story, please do not. I was only teasing and would never wish to cause you distress. It was very impolite of me; please accept my apology.”
    Elizabeth glanced at her sister, who saw the change in her as well and asked about it with only an upturn of her eyebrow, the way only a sister familiar enough with her could do. She gave a silent promise to talk later and turned to deflect Mr. Darcy’s concern.
    “Mr. Darcy, it is nothing. I would be happy to tell you the story as it does not really distress me at all. I was only briefly distracted by an unpleasant thought. Please forgive me.”
    Mr. Darcy was relieved at her words, but his interest was captured by her reference to an unpleasant thought. He felt a wave of protectiveness flood him as he never wanted to see her face turn down so in sadness. He wished he could know that terrible thought and keep it from disturbing her ever again, so that her eyes would sparkle at him.
    He nodded to her and, in hopes of making her eyes light up in laughter, displayed an uncharacteristic silliness as he found a chair and, moving it right up to her at the couch, sat down and leaned forward in eager anticipation of her story. His face expressed serious consideration for the tragic tale, and he brought his hand up to grip his chin in ready concentration. “Do begin then, Miss Elizabeth. I am ready for this terrifying narrative.”
    She sat back in delight at his mock seriousness and laughed, touched at his attempt to cheer her. Oh, if you only knew, Mr. Darcy, how attractive you are right now, you would not continue in such a way. She smiled and, taking a deep breath, forced her face into a solemn gaze as if to begin an account very tragic, indeed.
    “It is a simple story, really, sir. My father had taken me out on my horse when I was