A/N 06/25/2019 - This fic is no longer being posted at FFN. Find me on Archive of Our Own if you want to read it. I post as "LucyQ" there and the story has the same title. Thanks!

AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTORY NOTES:

Angst Rating. Medium, I think. This story is my attempt to flesh out Darcy's background as hinted at in P&P and examine the different experiences and expectations as between a wealthy male aristocrat and a young gentlewoman in the historical context of the Regency era. It contains both fluff and darker elements, but no great cliffhangers that last more than a chapter or three. However, based on some reader reaction, I feel compelled to say: DARCY MAY NOT BE A VIRGIN WHEN HE MEETS ELIZABETH. If the possibility of a non-virgin 27-year-old Regency male shakes you to the core, then you should bump up the angst rating to "high" and make your reading decision accordingly. My aim is historical plausibility, not romance fantasy. (Although having said that this is very much intended to be a love story.)

Posting schedule. This story has approximately 35 chapters, but will be posted sporadically at FFN. My preferred venue is Archive of Our Own (AO3), where I will be posting slightly ahead and will be responding to comments. You can find this story by looking for "A Literary Courtship" by "LucyQ" in the Pride and Prejudice fandom. .

Maturity rating (M). This story at times deals with sex, death, exploitation and other sensitive themes, including sexual content. I am not a fan of gratuitous or graphic detail, but in the end I will do what I consider narratively necessary. I'm not going to attempt to give any trigger warnings, however, because I doubt I can guess everybody's triggers. In my mind, the deal is: I will write what I want, and you can say what you want about it.

Thanks. At various times, I have received beta and cold reader help on this story. Special thanks to Mary, Agnes, Daniela, David, other cold readers and betas, and commenters on the original one-shot and 13-chapter novella version, as their insights and discussions have proven invaluable. At this point I'm lone-wolfing it, mainly because I'm awful with other people's timelines and I'm an inveterate tinkerer. If you see an error, feel free to bring it to my attention.

Chapter 1 - A Pair of Great Readers

"What think you of books?" said he, smiling.
"Books—oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings."
"I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject.
We may compare our different opinions."
"No—I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of something else."

- Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

Elizabeth Bennet, seated at the window of her room at stately Netherfield Hall, pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her shawl around them more tightly against the cold and eagerly turned the final pages of her book - only to find them blank.

Leafing through the pages, she realized what she had assumed to be a standalone volume was in reality only the first of a two-volume set - which meant she was left hanging in the middle of the story with no idea how it ended.

She sighed. Could this visit possibly become any worse? Two days ago she had walked to Netherfield to inquire after her sister Jane, who had caught a chill while on a visit to the ladies of the house and had been forced to extend her stay. The master of the house, Bingley, had very kindly insisted that Elizabeth stay as well to nurse Jane, but the rest of the party - Miss Bingley, fashionable Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and the haughty and superior Mr. Darcy - clearly saw her as beneath them socially and wished her away. Elizabeth would not leave Jane alone, but nor could she pretend any joy in being where she was clearly so unwanted.

Oh, why must her mother push so hard to marry her daughters off to wealthy gentlemen, she wondered. It had been Mrs. Bennet's scheme for Jane to make the trip on horseback when the skies threatened rain in hopes she would be asked to stay and have an opportunity to see Bingley when he returned from his sporting pursuits. As usual, however, she had given little thought to the risk to Jane's reputation or her health from such a scheme.

And what was so special about wealthy gentlemen anyway? Oh, her mother had been delighted to marry her father, a landed gentleman of means, but Elizabeth could not see how it had purchased her any great happiness. A more ill-matched couple was rarely seen, and when her mother was not nagging and complaining about her father, her father was mocking and deriding her mother. Much more inspiring was the happy and prosperous marriage of her aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though Mrs. Bennet's brother was only a tradesman.

She would certainly prefer a tradesman to the unpleasant Mr. Darcy! Elizabeth would not soon forget his withering insult at the Meryton Assembly, when he had refused to dance with her. She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me. Wealth and good looks notwithstanding, Elizabeth had no time for such a man. He was the epitome of everything that was wrong with the breed: proud, conceited and uselessly fine. Oh yes, an attractive and ambitious young man with five or six hundred a year would be far preferable to such a "gentleman."

Yawning, Elizabeth made her way to the bed. As she blew out the candle and tucked herself in, she thought of the lone, single volume of her unfinished tale, which must be somewhere in the house. Tomorrow she would find its mate and determine if the heroine, Emma, was really going to marry that coxcomb Frank Churchill. Tomorrow she would locate the final volume and discover whether the heroine's ending was a happy or bitter one.

Elizabeth's early efforts proved disappointing. A search of the library left her empty-handed, although the enticing space beside the first volume confirmed her hopes that the second volume was somewhere nearby. The book-tables where Bingley kept a selection on display proved similarly fruitless. On enquiry to a servant, she was informed that those were the only places that books were kept, so if the book she desired was not there, it was likely in use by a member of the household.

Careful observation of the ladies revealed no sign of the longed-for book. By evening, Elizabeth, despite reluctance to invite further censure from Miss Bingley, was resolved to make a general enquiry of the party gathered. She was spared from speaking, however, when the gentlemen entered the room - and she saw Darcy carrying the exact book she was seeking!

Elizabeth cursed the perverseness of the mischance that had put her darling book into the hands of the disagreeable Darcy. Still, she had to learn how the story ended. Her eyes followed Darcy as he settled himself on a sofa not far from her and opened his book. He was about one-third of the way in. She hoped the party would be silent so he could make progress.

"And what are you reading so secretly, sir?" asked Miss Bingley, who was wont to hover around Darcy like a moth to a light. Elizabeth would have swatted her long since.

"It is no secret. I am reading a novel," said Darcy without looking up from his book.

"It must be engrossing to capture your attention so completely. What is it about?"

"A rich but ignorant young lady, and all of the mischief she engenders with her matchmaking and meddling." He flipped a page and continued reading determinedly.

"Indeed! That is strange for a gentleman's choice of books, unless you are studying how to avoid such a creature."

"Not at all. I am simply interested in the author's portrayal of character. She writes with a deft hand and her characters are true to life."

Miss Bingley launched into raptures about Darcy's taste, which Darcy appeared to greet with stoic indifference. Presently, Elizabeth spoke up.

"Are you a fast reader, sir?"

"Miss Eliza, I assure you, Mr. Darcy is a very fast reader," said Miss Bingley contemptuously.

"On the contrary, I read rather slowly," said Darcy, looking up at Elizabeth as he answered for himself. "Do you consider quickness in reading to be a virtue, Miss Bennet?"

"Sometimes." When someone else is waiting for your book, she added silently.

"That is interesting. I am in the habit of seeing speed as inversely proportional to understanding and enjoyment, and prefer to slow down and savour the words. Those who rush through the text often miss the nuances."

"That may hold if you were referring to a rate of word consumption. But I am speaking of diligence at the pursuit. When I have a good story in my hands, I prefer to adhere to my task until the story is done. Those idle dilettantes who dabble in a story may find they have forgotten the beginning and middle by the time they finally make it to the end."

Darcy's eyebrows lifted a fraction and a smile tugged at his lips.

"Perhaps we should settle the particulars of the purpose and context in which one reads before stooping to veiled insults. When one is reading for information, or under time constraints, then certainly diligence is to be prized. But for recreational reading of a novel, as in this case, there is ample opportunity to refresh one's memory after any interruption, and therefore no need to rush."

"Well, I do not wish to be the source of interruption, so I will let you return to your book."

Elizabeth excused herself and left the room on the pretext that Jane needed her. Slow reader indeed! He was probably saying that on purpose to annoy her.

The next morning, Elizabeth saw that Darcy had made some progress and looked to be halfway through the book. Observing that the biggest obstacle to his further advancement was Miss Bingley's persistent attentions, she took it upon herself to distract Miss Bingley. Unfortunately, this was not as effective as she hoped, for every time she engaged Miss Bingley in conversation, Darcy would put down his book and join in. How unfortunate that the possessor of her beloved book was such an easily distracted reader! Clearly, something more drastic was required. She would have to separate Miss Bingley from Darcy altogether.

Immediately after breakfast, Elizabeth began shadowing Miss Bingley and Darcy, looking for an opportunity to lead Miss Bingley away. But in this, she had underestimated not only Miss Bingley's determination to remain on Darcy's arm, but also Darcy's apparent willingness to suffer her there. Instead of severing the pair, she found herself stuck fast for the greater part of the day as the unhappy member of a threesome.

Finally, towards late afternoon, after she had extricated herself to check on Jane, she found Miss Bingley by herself and enquiring of everybody whether they had seen Darcy. Elizabeth glibly informed her that Darcy had been sighted strolling the shrubbery.

Following this efficient dispatch of her obstacle, Elizabeth poked her head into the library, where she suspected Darcy had actually settled. She was happy to be proven right, and happier still to find that he was now two-thirds of the way through his book.

Her step aroused Darcy's attention, however, and he looked up, smiling. "Miss Bennet. We meet again."

"Oh!" Elizabeth groped for an excuse. "I was looking for a book that might interest Jane." She grabbed a random book off the shelf. "Well, good-bye."

"Your sister enjoys reading the dictionary?" Darcy said dryly, the quirk in his mouth breaking its usual haughty lines.

Elizabeth looked down at the tome in her hand and blushed. "My mistake. I thought it was a different book." She blushed harder when she realised that "DICTIONARY" was written in large, block capitals on the cover, spine and back.

"There is no need to rush off. I would be very happy to have your further company. Will you not sit down? I would be interested in hearing your further views on reading and the state of education."

"I do not wish to disturb your reading."

"It is no disturbance. It is a pleasure to converse with a fellow bibliophile who has actually engaged with the text before forming opinions." Darcy indicated a chair.

Elizabeth sighed and sat down. Hopefully, this tête-a-tête would last no more than a few minutes. But alas! Darcy seemed determined to have conversation, so she was forced to sit with him for almost half an hour. Missing Miss Bingley's sycophantic chatter, however, Elizabeth was surprised to find herself almost enjoying the conversation. Darcy was well informed and it turned out that they shared some of the same opinions and could discuss points of differences quite intelligibly, if a little heatedly. Perhaps he was not quite so useless as she had originally thought. And he did have good taste in books.

They were interrupted by Miss Bingley, who gave Elizabeth a dirty look on finding her alone with Darcy. Elizabeth immediately excused herself.

"Well! It appears you have made another conquest, Mr. Darcy," said Miss Bingley. "You have Miss Eliza hankering after you like a green girl. I am sure she sent me into the garden on purpose to steal time alone with you. I hope you will take care and not find yourself entrapped. These Bennets seem most aggressive in their pursuit."

Darcy shrugged and reopened his book. "She is not bothering me. In fact, she seems almost skittish. She tries to bolt every time I speak to her."

"Oh! She is probably tongue-tied to be in the presence of a member of the first circles. Sir William Lucas seems to be the limit of august personages around here."

Darcy was silent, contemplating Elizabeth. He was used to being the object of pursuit, but her methods of going about it were unusual. She was often hanging about him and looking at him, but if anything, discouraged his attempts at interaction. And yet she expressed herself too eloquently for shyness. He had experienced young ladies blowing hot and cold as a ploy to pique his interest, but this species of behaviour seemed of a different order. He was intrigued.

Diverted by his contemplation of the puzzle that was Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Darcy got no further in his book by evening. Elizabeth saw this with a glance when he entered the drawing room carrying the book. She stifled her annoyance in the joy of seeing Jane able to join the party at last, and well attended by Bingley. Her ire was renewed, however, when Darcy abandoned his book to join the group around Jane, taking a seat across from Elizabeth. Really? She could have finished it twice in the time he had had and given it back to him by now.

The evening ended in music, with Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, and Elizabeth taking turns playing. Elizabeth would not have been inclined to play in such scornful company, but she was hopeful that music would mean an end to conversation and perhaps a return to reading.

In this she was partly right, for the conversation did cease and Darcy did read for a time. When it was her turn to play, however, she noticed that he set his book aside and fixed his eyes on her.

He was probably trying to intimidate her into making a mistake. Courage rising with her indignation, she played and sang the quaint Irish air with even more free-spirited abandon than usual and shrugged when she saw him move closer with widened eyes and uplifted eyebrows. Despise me if you dare, Mr. Darcy!

Next morning, Elizabeth surveyed the situation, pacing. Jane was better; they should soon be gone. If she obtained the book immediately and read very steadily, she might have time to finish it before she left. But Darcy had proven a disappointingly unmotivated reader since she had launched her campaign to win him reading space.

Elizabeth threw herself into a chair and crossed her arms in frustration. She would never find out what happened to Emma! And all because of that infuriating Mr. Darcy. She avoided both Miss Bingley and Darcy for the rest of the morning, and when Jane went upstairs to rest, went outside, intent on walking off her ire. She was completing her circuit of the park when she spied Darcy again, apparently out for his own walk. She was about to strike off onto a different path when he called her name.

"There you are, Miss Bennet," he said as he approached her. "I was wondering where you had gone. I have become used to your frequent presence."

Elizabeth blushed. Perhaps she had overdone it. Well, it was time to lay her cards on the table. As he fell into step with her, she gathered her words.

"Mr. Darcy, it seems you have noticed my attentions towards you over the last few days. You will no doubt be shocked by my unladylike boldness, but as my time grows short, I feel the need to come straight to the point in order to procure what I am after."

Darcy stopped in his tracks and faced her, his eyebrows raised in astonishment, a slow smile spreading over his face. He took a step towards her.

"Yes, Miss Bennet? What can I do for you?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she took a small step back, surprised at his nearness and the scrutiny of his dark eyes. But she gathered her courage and took a deep breath. This was her last chance, after all.

"Over the last few days," she said, craning her neck to look directly up at him. "I have observed you reading a certain book."

"A book?" he said in bemusement.

"Yes, Emma. It is the second in a two-volume set. The truth is, I finished the first volume my first day here and was very much hoping to read the second volume. I do not wish to interrupt your enjoyment of the book, but I was wondering if you would mind lending it to me, just for a day. I can finish it very quickly and have it back to you."

Darcy reached into his coat, withdrew the volume in question, and held it out to her. "Is this the book you mean?"

"Oh! Yes, that is it!" Elizabeth took the book from Darcy, her face lighting with joy. She smiled at him warmly. "Mr. Darcy, that is most generous of you! I promise I will read it very quickly."

He smiled back at her and waited her to continue speaking. When she only turned her attention to the book, his brow furrowed. "That is it?"

"What do you mean?" said Elizabeth, now looking hurriedly through her book. There were several hundred pages, but she was a fast reader … and it was unlikely Mr. Bingley would notice or care if she asked for extra candles …

"That is all you require?"

"I am afraid I do not take your meaning," she said, looking up in confusion, her mind still intent on the book. "What else is there?"

"Your attentions for the last few days - following me around, separating me from Miss Bingley. That was in pursuit of the book?"

"Oh!" Elizabeth blushed. "I am so sorry. I know I have been a nuisance and a pest. I can say nothing in my defence, but in recompense, I give you full leave to mock me as much as you wish to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. My family often makes fun of me for being so single-minded once I have started a new story."

Darcy was quiet and subdued as they returned to the house, but Elizabeth did not notice. She was thinking of her book.

Steady to her purpose, Elizabeth's attention was fixed on her book for the remainder of the day. She was amiable but not encouraging when Darcy or Bingley attempted to engage her in conversation. She did not even bother to respond to Miss Bingley's pointed whispers about frumpy ladies who read too much and neglected their appearance. Jane, well-versed in her sister's predilections, simply smiled indulgently.

In the late afternoon, Darcy found her in the library, still reading. Whatever thoughts he had that her previous attentions had been directed to influencing his felicity, her behaviour of the last few hours provided very material weight in crushing them. There he sat, not six feet from her, pretending to read his own book, and she had not paid him the slightest heed despite his multiple attempts to catch her eye.

Darcy had spent the better part of the last few days sternly reminding himself that he could not allow himself to be tempted by Elizabeth's apparent interest in him. Considering her low family connexion and non-existent fortune, it would not do to raise her hopes of him, and anything else he could offer was improper considering her standing as a gentlewoman. But perversely, all of his cherished misgivings had evaporated in the face of her indifference. Now he found himself feeling strangely unsettled, frustrated, angry, hurt, and desperate for a crumb of her regard.

Elizabeth was ignorant of the feelings roiling in Darcy's breast. She was also unaware that she made a very pretty picture with the late afternoon sun pooling around her, her feet tucked under, and a slender finger twirling a curl while she smiled and chuckled to herself.

Darcy watched her out of the corner of his eye for a few minutes. As she continued to ignore him, he abandoned all pretence and fixed his eyes on her directly, examining every part of her person. Even so, it was many minutes before Elizabeth noticed his piercing gaze. When she did, she responded with playful defiance.

"Do you mean to disconcert me with your brooding countenance, sir, and shame me into returning to you this book?" she asked with a teasing smile. "If so, I must warn you that I have no scruple against repaying your extreme generosity with utmost selfishness, and intend to retain my prize to completion."

Darcy, pleased at having her attention at last, said: "You wilfully misunderstand me, Miss Bennet. I am merely enjoying the effect of the sunlight on a lovely lady."

Elizabeth, remembering his slight at the assembly, shook her head and half-rolled her eyes before returning to her book. Darcy, smiling, continued to stare at her openly.

"Mr. Darcy, this is unfair!" she protested with a laugh. "I really am trying to give this book back to you as soon as humanly possible, but if you stare at me in that fashion, I will not be able to focus. You must see that such conduct brings you no closer to your goal."

"Miss Bennet, your statement presupposes you to be aware of my goal and reveals your error at once."

"What error is that?" Elizabeth was bemused.

"That I wish the book returned."

"You do not wish that?"

"As I said earlier, I am not a hasty reader. I am prepared to be patient in order to savour my pleasures."

"Then what is your goal?"

He changed seats so he was seated directly across from her. "Perhaps I hoped that by sharing the book with you, you would share your thoughts with me."

"You wish to discuss the book?" She glanced at his face, surprised at his interest in conversing with her.

"I admit I had hoped for some interaction. Reading does not always have to be a lonely pursuit."

Elizabeth turned it over in her mind. If she paused in her reading, she might not finish the book in time before she had to leave tomorrow. On the other hand, Darcy had been surprisingly obliging and not nearly as proud and unpleasant as she had initially thought. On occasion she even enjoyed his company.

She smiled back at him. "Mr. Darcy, let me be frank. I would be delighted to discuss Emma with you. You have shown yourself to be a man of intelligent opinions and I would be glad to hear more of them. However, I am torn, for my time to consume this story begins to run out."

He lifted an eyebrow. "If that is the issue, I would be happy to speak to Bingley and procure the loan of the book when you leave."

"Oh! Thank you, Mr. Darcy. That is very kind of you." It really was, she thought, because it meant that he had to postpone his own reading pleasure further.

Darcy observed that Elizabeth still kept her finger in the book to mark her place.

"Miss Bennet, I see that your heart remains with your book. In that case, I have one more suggestion to make wherein we both achieve our desires."

"What is that?"

"One of us must read the book to the other."

Elizabeth smiled appreciatively at this elegant solution. "Certainly." She held the book out to him. "You first."

Darcy took it from her, carefully preserving her place, then flipped it open to examine it. "You are a fast reader. I believe you are just about where I left off."

He began to read. Elizabeth was surprised and delighted. For Darcy was a great reader. When he read, his stiffness and formality fell away, and he entered with spirit into the story, even adopting different voices and intonations for the various characters. When he paused, Elizabeth clapped.

"That was marvelous!" she laughed. "Mr. Darcy, you are a man of hidden talents. It is too bad you have such a great estate to manage. To paraphrase Sir William Lucas, you could have been one of the brightest lights on the London stage."

Darcy dimpled at her, pleased. "My mother loved books and plays. She used to read aloud to me, and when she died I would read to my baby sister. Georgiana is fifteen now, but we still enjoy reading to each other." He held the book out to her. "Your turn, I believe, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth had not whiled away many winter hours reading to her father for nothing. Darcy was captivated, although not so lost in admiration that he was unable to form a resolution. He leant forward and tapped the book in her hand.

"Miss Bennet, enjoyable as this is, I find it presents a new dilemma."

"And what is that?"

"My enjoyment of the story is now dependent on having a companion in reading. And yet you leave tomorrow, and will take the book with you."

"I see your problem and confess that I am somewhat of the same mind. Do you have another solution to propose, sir?"

"Indeed, I do. You will permit me to call upon you so that we may partake in more of the story. And you will have to promise that you will not read ahead without me."

"You ask a great deal, Mr. Darcy, unless you intend to be at Longbourn very frequently," she teased. "You know my impatience for the conclusion."

He smiled into her eyes. "Depend upon it, I shall be there often."