“That is peculiar,” she answered. “It seems obvious that, like most things, one can do it well or not well. In my limited experience with your ability, you fall into the latter category.”
“Even if I accept your premise that apologies are a skill to be mastered, I fail to see how mine did not meet the standard. I said the words. What more is required?”
“I am glad you asked,” she answered primly. “An apology must be more than words.”
“You require a gift, perhaps?” he accused.
“No, of course not,” she laughed. “Perhaps in some circumstances an apology should be accompanied by a gift, but certainly not here.”
“An act of penance, then?” He seemed amused now. He was teasing her, and Elizabeth could not help but be charmed by it. She pretended to consider his suggestion.
“Again, that might be appropriate in other situations, but not here.”
“Shall I keep guessing, or would you like to enlighten me?”
“I should have thought it would be obvious to one as old and wise as you.”
“You seem overly considered with my age. I assure you I have not quite entered my dotage. The wisdom I will grant you.”
“Of course you will.” Elizabeth giggled, but checked herself. She did not want to sound like a little girl.
“However, you still have not educated me with regard to the deficiency in my apology to you. I am eager to improve myself.”
Between his stunning brown eyes, crooked smile and gentle teasing, Elizabeth was lost. But she was determined to hold her own—her father had prepared her well to match wits with the likes of Mr. Darcy.
“How can I deny such a willing student?” she replied with mock solemnity. “Your apology was insufficient for the obvious reason that you did not, in fact, believe you had anything to apologise for. Quite simply, Mr. Darcy, you lacked sincerity.”
“That is not entirely true, Miss Bennet,” he told her. “I sincerely regret that my manner of expression has caused this lengthy deviation from the topic at hand.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed, but it rang as more amused to her own ears.
“I apologise, once again,” he said, his slight smile and the telltale light in his eyes making Elizabeth’s heart flutter uncontrollably, threatening the precarious hold she had on her wits. “Sincerely, I assure you. Now would you be so kind as to answer the original question?”
“I am afraid I cannot recall what it was,” she said in what she hoped was a firm and not at all breathy voice. Why did she feel breathless when their pace could best be described as unhurried?
“Why was Miss Darcy running away from home?”
“She was doing no such thing,” Elizabeth insisted.
“What was she doing? And what does it have to do with Miss Devon?”
“I was hoping you had forgotten that.”
“I did not,” he responded and then earnestly told her, “I admire your desire to maintain my sister’s confidence, but you seemed to imply that she planned to tell me herself, so you would not be revealing anything that she had not intended to reveal anyway.”
“You are not wrong. However, the logical resolution would be for you to wait until she tells you, would it not?”
“Please, Miss Bennet,” he said quietly. “Her behaviour over the past week since we arrived at Pemberley has been . . . has caused concern . . . I am concerned.”
Later, when Elizabeth lay in her bed and replayed her day, committing to memory every look, every smile and expression of Mr. Darcy, she would remain uncertain if she had been persuaded by his earnest tone, which revealed a worried elder brother, or his smile, which she felt certain could convince her to do a great deal more than spill a secret. After she gave him the bare essentials of Georgiana’s relationship with Miss Devon and her desire to flee her home rather than be subject to her whims any longer, Mr. Darcy had questions.
“Why would she not come to me immediately with her troubles?” He sounded truly put out. “Did she not think I would help?”
“That was not what caused her to hesitate to confide in you,” Elizabeth assured him.
“Do you say that because you know or because you know it is what I would like to hear?” he asked.
“Although I cannot claim any great knowledge of your character on such a short acquaintance, I have surmised that you are not someone who likes to be placated, and therefore I would not bother,” she told him frankly.
