She smiled back at him, but then looked down.
The dance ended.
Mr. Collins was standing by the wall with Mrs. Bennet, they watched him and Elizabeth. Mr. Sykes was happily nowhere to be seen. Bingley was on the dance floor once more with Elizabeth’s sister, Mrs. Collins. They were near eyeball to eyeball in how they looked at each other.
There was something like a great sadness in Darcy’s heart at the sight.
Elizabeth took his arm and led him to the punch bowl, and he gave her a glass and then poured one for himself. He had an odd awareness of how close she stood to him. She wore a light perfume that made him lightheaded.
His heart pounded. He did not know why. He did know why.
Elizabeth’s eyes. On him. That same mysterious smile played around her lips. She took a sip from her punch glass. “The air is far too hot and stuffy in here.”
He nodded.
Darcy’s stomach ached, like he’d been thrown from a careening carriage, or fallen from a great height.
They stepped out onto a balcony. Darcy leaned against the marble balustrade while Elizabeth sat on the bench and studied him.
She took a large swallow of her punch and then put it aside on the floor next to her. “Mr. Darcy, I…” She let out a long breath.
A sudden burst of anxiety.
Elizabeth looked down as she spoke. “When you say that you admire me, I suspect… wonder… if you mean something more.”
She darted a brief glance at him, and then looked down again, clasping her hands together.
He could not speak.
Ask her to marry you, you fool.
That voice in his head again. The one that wanted to seize happiness that he did not deserve.
He had been too obvious in his interest in her, he had aroused hopes and expectations. Did that mean that he had to marry her?
Darcy asked the question of himself with a burst of hope. He wanted to.
“And what did you mean… mean when you said that you would do anything in your power to protect me? You know that a gentleman cannot honourably give anything to a woman who he has no connection to… I am an unmarried woman. I cannot accept… I mean…”
“Do you hope that I will bend my principles and offer to marry you?” He spoke in a cold voice, whose tone wholly surprised himself. “I have always clearly stated my intention to never marry again. I do not believe that I have acted in a way that would give rise to any expectations to the contrary.”
“Oh.” Her voice wholly lacked any intonation. “I understand. I apologize.”
“Miss Bennet, if I have made you think otherwise, it was not my intention. I have valued our friendship greatly.”
Why are you saying this? Don’t be a fool.
She nodded. She smiled at him. “I was a fool.” She laughed a little. “Papa always said it did a girl good to be disappointed in love. Gives her distinction amongst her friends so…”
She pressed her hand against her mouth.
He felt awful and sick inside. When Darcy stepped closer to her, she held up a hand in a warding gesture to stop him.
Elizabeth continued with a bright, wholly fake smile. “In any case, I thank you kindly for the chance to brag of my own silliness to my friends.”
“Surely…” A curling snake had bitten the inside of his stomach, and it was pumping the venom directly into his intestines. Darcy exclaimed, “You could not have expected it! Even if I had an intention to marry again, surely you could not have expected me to marry you, with the situation of your family, your lack of any connections of worth, your uncle in trade, the lack of a dowry, and further the… vulgarity and smallmindedness of your mother and the wildness of your youngest sisters.”
“I know.” She pressed her hands against her eyes. “Oh, damn. I do not mean to cry. You would not wish to marry a woman who knows that word either, would you? My Papa spoke it on occasion. You would not wish to — Oh, oh… just go.”
