A/N: In which we meet that well-known main character

There was no one outside, though in the distance, disappearing around the side of the building, was the back end of a horse. That was confusing enough that he wanted to follow, but he realised this was his first opportunity to see the place Sam had abandoned him. 

He had to back up, along a gravelled driveway, for quite a way before he could finally see the full scope of the enormous house.

It was square, extremely square, in shape and windows and edges, and made of some yellowish brick. Tav thought that meant it was Georgian, and, really, it looked a lot like he'd always imagined Pemberley in Pride and Prejudice. Beautiful, impressive, imposing. Something about it made him shudder. There was pride inside those walls. Centuries, possibly, of history and expectations. 

It made his heart beat too fast, almost painful. This wasn't some government-owned place being kept together with generous donations. And it wasn't a hotel. It was a private home. Sam might have some royal-type accent that sounded like the queen and amazed Tav's friends back home during video calls, but they weren't rich. They had a scholarship for their degree, and when Tav had met their mom, she'd driven a rattling and very tiny car, barely any newer than Sam's own. So, no. Sam wasn't pulling somewhere like this out of their ass.

Tav could feel sweat forming on his brow as his heart pushed his blood pressure even higher. He needed to get away. He span around to see where the drive went but just saw it disappearing between lush green trees, the end not in sight. There was a lake over to one side and in the far distance he could see someone that looked like a gardener tending to bushes. He could speak to them, try to get more answers than the maid had given, but he didn't think he could have a coherent conversation until he calmed down.

Instead, he looked the other way and saw how the rolling green lawn rose to meet the hazy horizon. He'd go that way, to start with.

The boots the maid had found him were surprisingly comfortable, though a little too big. He couldn't move as fast as he wanted to. Couldn't stride out enough to make his thighs ache distractingly as he battled the slope, which was far steeper than it had looked from the drive, because they slipped down his heel just enough to rub a raw spot in, which was burning by the time he reached the top.

It was worth it though, an unexpected clear view across a stone-wall-framed field. It was nicer, somehow, than the neatly manicured lawn he'd just left behind. Rough and real when his head didn't feel in a very real place at all. There was even a huddle of sheep to one side, gathered together in the shelter offered by a corner of the low stones.

He was confused to still see no other signs of life than that though. It was one thing he'd noticed almost straight away when he'd come over to the university from the hinterlands of his own small American farming town. He was used to space back home, and a dearth of people, but England was tiny. There were people everywhere. On the odd occasion when Sam had some wild need to get out of the city, and driven the pair of them in their rickety red car to places they described as 'the middle of nowhere' so they could traipse over muddy, cowpat strewn fields until Sam got bored and dragged them into a pub, there was still always signs of life. Villages and farmsteads, roads and the accompanying buzz of fast-moving traffic, even at a distance. And people. Always people. Farmers, other walkers, usually clad far more sensibly than them, with walking boots and backpacks and sticks, excitable dogs running twice the distance. But Tav hadn't seen anyone but the distant gardener since he left the house, and the only sound he could hear was the rustling movement and occasional low burr of the sheep.

He couldn't see what was on the other side of the wall. There were no trees. It just seemed to stop at the horizon line he was getting closer to. He kept moving to the far side of the field, intrigued. Even so, after he'd climbed over a wooden stile and followed a worn path, he hadn't expected to find the end of the world so quickly.

Of course, it wasn't, but the land dipped, vanished, and he tentatively went closer, until he could see over the edge. It was a terrifyingly sheer, rough, cliff down to a distant vacant valley, white clouds of more sheep the only signs of life. Not even a farmhouse, though a far distant blur on the landscape may have been one.

From where he stood, he could see the way the long cliff edge curved, cuffing the valley, framing it with a rigid sense of ownership. Far into the distance, the parallel hills had more gentleness to them, rolling and green, more of a hug than the sharp stone of the cliff beneath where he stood. It was stunning. Intimidating, but stunning. A twisting, narrow river ran along the base of the valley, equidistant between the cliff and the hills, disappearing around a bend somewhere near the maybe-a-farm smudge.

Moving away from the edge, Tav kept walking, almost as intrigued as he was confused, still feeling a need to clear his foggy head. The brisk coolness from the height was beginning to work and the sight of the drop had produced an adrenaline spike that had loosened his nervous limbs. He wanted to know where everyone was. Find a road. Maybe even hitch a ride into the city. For all he'd been determined not to buckle under Sam's prank, the high ideals were getting harder to maintain the more freaked out he was feeling. The more hurt.

He forgot it all when he rounded a natural bend that had brought him down a dip and saw someone in the distance, standing too close to the edge of the cliff. His heart leapt into his mouth, but the person didn't take a step, simply stood, apparently gazing over the valley, their back to Tav because of the lay of the land.

He couldn't see the face. From this distance, couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman, old or young. But there was something in the set of the shoulders that gave him a fresh burst of the unsettled sensation he'd had all day. He walked a little faster, ignoring the harsh pain in his heel.

When he could finally see it was someone dressed as a man, he was still far enough away that they hadn't noticed him, though Tav's heart sank when he realised the clothing was the same awkward, old fashioned stuff Tav had been put in by the maid. So he was yet another actor, bent on sending him insane, presumably.

When he was close enough to shout, he called, "Are you looking for someone?" almost managing to keep the weariness out of his voice, remembering to play something of a part.

The man turned slowly, his face all straight lines and glower. Tav realised he'd found the leading man.

"Mr Darcy, I assume? Are you looking for me?"

The man tilted his head slightly, a furrow forming between his brows.

"Why?" He paused, straightening his head as he scowled. It didn't detract from his impressive good looks. Sam had chosen well. "Oh, you must be Lord Greencester."

"Apparently."

The tilt became even more pronounced and Tav saw the man's whiskey-brown eyes flick, looking him up and down before averting his gaze back over the verdant green of the valley.

"You're younger than I was led to believe."

"Twenty-one," Tav responded. "Listen, just- I just want to know what's going on here. What I did. Why this is happening."

"If I may be blunt, Lord Greencester," the supercilious man didn't wait for a response, "you're here because my aunt is pushing for my sister to marry well, and your uncle is sick of you leaching off him. And I'm sure we will come to an agreement where you act your charmless self for a few days and I announce you unsuitable for my sister and send you on your way to find a young lady more fitting with your reputation."

"My what?"

Tav was strangely insulted, considering Darcy wasn't actually talking about him, but before he could respond, Darcy sighed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just worried. You aren't entirely what I was expecting, though. Regardless, I shouldn't take it out on you."

"What's worrying you?"

Despite the ridiculous situation, there was something almost broken in the way Darcy kept staring out into nothingness, his hand scratching at a beard that appeared several days old, which didn't seem to fit with what he knew of the character's haughty demeanour.

"My sister is in no rush to marry. I'm quite certain she isn't ready, and may never be so. But our aunt is extremely used to getting her own way, and she's holding over my head the way I went against her for my own betrothal."

"Oh, Elizabeth."

"What do you know of Elizabeth?" Darcy went from concerned to angry like a switch, stepping towards Tav aggressively.

"I don't. Nothing." Tav held his hands up defensively, laughing nervously at how method-actor the man seemed to be playing it, in refusing to break character. "You know how the grapevine is," Tav finished weakly, but Darcy seemed to deflate as quickly as he'd been riled.

"Of course. My apologies, your Lordship. I just haven't heard from her, and her mother has written, informing she isn't at their home. The woman assumed she'd come here, which would be most improper."

Tav was confused. They were meant to be married by the end of the novel. Elizabeth never went missing. And for that matter, Georgiana never got engaged. He was certain. He'd read it four times in the three years since Sam introduced him to it, after all.

"Do you know Sam?" he asked Darcy.

"Who? Isn't that the doctor's assistant in the village? Of course I know him."

Tav winced. His Sam wouldn't let being mis-gendered pass without comment, so it didn't seem like Mr Darcy over here had actually met them.

But that didn't make sense. Perhaps this wasn't Sam after all. But if not Sam, then who? He hadn't made actual enemies – his life was no melodrama – and even though he had plenty of friends, no one else had that very particularly British sense of hilarity for humiliation that Sam did or the closeness to use it against him. He pinched himself, attempting to see if he was simply dreaming, but all he achieved was a painful nip that was sure to bruise.

"You know what, I think I need to meet your sister."

"Of course. Just be aware I will have no qualms in whipping you off my property if you show her even an ounce of disrespect.

"I would expect nothing else from you, Mr Darcy."

As they walked, thankfully slowly, though Tac wasn't sure if it was because Mr Darcy had noted Tav's inelegant shuffling steps or if it was due to the man's reluctance to return to the house, they conversed, awkwardly at first, but with increasing enthusiasm.

"Can I ask something?" Tav asked after a while. They'd been speaking, or at least, he'd listened, and Darcy seemed to be relaxing in his presence by increments. The house was visible again, at the base of the long slope, and Darcy seemed to take the opportunity to slow down even further.

"Of course. I couldn't say why, but I find you strangely easy to talk to, young Greencester."

Tav chuckled weakly, but decided to ask anyway.  "You don't want your sister to marry. And you're... what's the term? Independently wealthy? So what power does your aunt have over you?"

Darcy did that head tipping thing again, but Tav refused to back down. He needed to know how he was expected to play this. To be honest, Darcy already seemed more open than his character should be, even if he was easily as awkward and sharp-edged.

"My aunt is, she is a force. She enjoys having control over those around her. I refuse to allow her full influence, but it would be unseemly to fight the issues too openly, for society to witness. So I choose the methods I do in order to maintain a level of peace. But my sister will not be marrying against her will."

"Of course," Tav murmured, looking at the toes of his boots, which had begun to pinch.

"Well, come meet my sister. Let us discover just what she thinks of you."

A/N: as I hope is clear, Tav is from the U.S. though his best friend is very, very British. As a result, be aware that the strange duality in Tav's speech and perspective intentionally mixes the two languages