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“Do you not drink tea?”

“I believe you know very well that I do drink tea, sir. I suppose I ought to have said I’m not thirsty.”

Darcy strode over to where Elizabeth sat and assumed an advantageous position by the instrument—one that afforded him a full view of her countenance.

She summoned her courage amid the daunting weight of his silent inspection. “Do you mean to frighten me, sir?”

“No. However, I would have a word with you.”

Elizabeth folded her hands in her lap and gazed at him expectantly. She said nothing, which he considered sufficient encouragement to continue with his speech.

“I could not help but notice you walked here alone yesterday, and, likewise, you returned to the parsonage on foot. You arrived in the same manner this morning—by foot.” Here he paused as if awaiting her response. She spoke not a word.

“I will gladly make my carriage available to you,” he hastily offered.

Elizabeth arched her brow. “Are you trying to hurry me along my way, Mr. Darcy?”

He shook his head. “No. I believe I am thinking only of your comfort. It is quite a distance from here to the parsonage.”

“I’m very fond of walking, sir,” Elizabeth said, positioning her fingers on the keys. She took up playing where she had left off before he interrupted her.

With that, Darcy walked away. He retrieved a large, leather-bound book from one of the library shelves and took a seat on a nearby couch.

Seeing all this, Elizabeth gave her fingers a rest. “Sir, pray my practicing will not impede your pleasure in your book.”

“No,” he replied, opening the book somewhere close to the middle. “However, if you insist on walking, I suppose I ought to escort you to the parsonage when you have finished practicing.”

“Do you mean to suggest that hordes of bandits are lurking behind the manicured shrubbery along the lanes, sir?” Elizabeth asked.

Affording her taunting retort a degree of consideration it did not warrant, Darcy responded, “I do not think there are; however, as a gentleman, serving as your escort is the least I can do.”

Ambling along at a leisurely pace a short while later, it occurred to Elizabeth that the two of them had barely spoken a word to each other—at least not aloud, for she had bombarded him with silent questions every step of the way. From what little time she had spent in his company, she knew he could be aloof, but he had been the one to insist upon accompanying her to the parsonage. What could be his purpose if he only means to be silent and grave? Elizabeth asked herself more than once.

Casting occasional sideways glances at the gentleman by her side, Elizabeth could not help but reflect upon how attractive she had thought he was when she first saw him; his handsome face, his dark, brooding eyes and his rich baritone voice. Then, too, he was tall with broad shoulders, and there was something in his manner of walk. All of which evidenced his proud aristocratic lineage.

However, all the estimable qualities in the world could not excuse his rudeness. Mr. Darcy’s callous proclamation that she was not handsome enough to tempt him had wounded her deeply. She simply was not accustomed to hearing such derisiveness from the mouth of a gentleman and certainly not in reference to her.

On the other hand, he surely would not have uttered those words if he had known he would be overheard by anyone. Or would he?

Elizabeth could not be sure. Were it not for the fact that he had deliberately put himself in her path, she was absolutely certain she would not be giving herself so much trouble to comprehend what the haughty gentleman was about. Yet sketch his character she must. She silently compiled a list of possible reasons why he had waited in the library for her to finish practicing and now walked along beside her.

I suppose he simply has nothing better to do. As best I can tell, he wants nothing to do with his so-called intended, else surely she would have been the beneficiary of his company today.

By now they were half way to the parsonage, and still the gentleman had not uttered a word. Say something! Pray say anything, sir, or I shall go distracted by the quiet, Elizabeth silently exclaimed.

As though he had heard her plea, Darcy rested his eyes on hers. Her initial thought was to look away, but that would never do. She did not want to give him the impression that she was scared of him; although, having been caught staring rendered her more than a little uncomfortable.

She racked her brain in search of a means to eliminate the ensuing awkwardness. “It was exceedingly kind of you to walk with me, sir,” she uttered. “However, all things considered, I believe I should continue on my own from here.”

“All things considered?” Darcy asked, his expression befuddled.

She bit her lower lip. “My cousin, Mr. Collins, were he to see us walking together like this might misinterpret things. At the very least, he might insist upon inviting you inside his humble abode. I am quite certain you would not want that.”

“I believe it is safe to accompany you to the gate. I shall take my chances after that.”

“You must not say I did not warn you if luck finds itself on my cousin’s side.”

“I shall consider myself forewarned, Miss Bennet.”