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"Fitzwilliam!" The expression of rapture on Elizabeth's face might need an explanation when one saw the object of her delight. "Was this your doing?"
Darcy rubbed at the back of his neck, grinning uncomfortably and sending a mini avalanche of flour over his shirt to join the white powder and egg yolk already there. "When Mrs. Reynolds told me they were your favorite, I wanted to try my hand at them. I'm sorry they don't- well-"
Elizabeth waved him off and carefully picked up a simultaneously-burnt-and-underdone-and-rather-mangled butter cookie to examine it. "Yes, they are my favorite. And I am sure they shall be perfectly-"
Her praise was cut short as she took a bite and attempted not to spit it violently across the room. Darcy watched sheepishly.
"It was only my first try..."
Elizabeth beamed as brightly as she could while swallowing. "They are infinitely better than my first try baking a lemon cake. Did I ever tell you that story?..."