“Sheheardme?”
“I thought it most unlike you, I must say. You are not usually so ungallant.”
Again, Darcy found himself wishing he could contradict one of his cousin’s opinions, but he could not. He had said it, he had meant it, at least in that moment, and it had been far from the first conceited judgment he had carelessly issued in a ballroom. Andthattotal disdain for the feelings of others had been Elizabeth’s first impression of him.Dear God!
He had spent the last months in agony that he could not be with her, then the last few hours in ecstasy because he had condescended to overlook his own deuced pride and offer for her. This was the first time it hadeveroccurred to him to doubt whether Elizabeth would have him. Agony and ecstasy both promptly abandoned him, leaving him feeling only searing alarm.
“Do you know,” Anne said, “I think I should like you to take me back with you tomorrow.”
Darcy regarded her in bewilderment, too caught up in his distress to make head or tail of her remark.
“To Netherfield? You must be joking.”
“I do not see why. It was good of you to bring me to London, and I am grateful for the offer you made yesterday to take me to more parties while I am here. Especially now that I know you did not make the offer as a husband but rather as a friend hoping to help find me one. But I cannot leave Rosings indefinitely. We both know I am not well enough for London life. I shall have to go home and sooner than I should like. Will you not take me back to Meryton so I may enjoy one last week of freedom before I must face my mother again?”
“You cannot be serious. I am sorry, truly sorry, that your situation is so disagreeable, but you offended every acquaintance I have in Hertfordshire when you were there.”
“None that you had not already offended yourself.”
He could not defend himself there, so he did not pretend to, though he wished she would cease putting forth more reasons to fear that Elizabeth might despise him. He tried a different tack.
“I thought you disdained the society.”
“I said it was inferior to what I am used to. That is not the same as disdaining it.”
“It is exactly the same.”
Anne exhaled petulantly, as thoughhewere the one being unreasonable. “Pray do not demean me by telling me what pleases me. My mother does it too often, and I cannot stand it. I found the Meryton assembly vastly enjoyable. And even Christmas Day at Longbourn had its delights, burieddeepbeneath the chaos and vulgarity.”
“You cannot believe, with opinions such as those, I shall ever agree to take you back there.”
“No, I do notbelieveyou will—Iknowyou will.”
“Doyou?” he said heatedly, glad to give the truth to her earlier account of him by being angry with everything she said. “And why is that?”
“Because you are too generous for your own good. And because you need my help.”
Darcy despised the way Anne smirked at him. “Your help to do what?”
“To correct the entire town’s misapprehension that you and I are engaged.”
He wanted to question her sincerity again, but he had already done so twice, and he did not wish to make himself appear addled. Instead, he stood up, stalked up and down in front of the fire a few times, swore aloud, and left the room.
* * *
“Have you been driving around in circles since Friday, Darcy?” enquired Bingley, laughing heartily when they arrived at Netherfield on Monday afternoon.
Darcy knew not how it was that after making it the study of his life to avoid those weaknesses that exposed a strong understanding to ridicule, he had come to be an object of amusement to so many of his friends. “No. Why?”
“You seem to have forgotten why you left in the first place. Were you not supposed to take Miss de Bourgh home?”
“I did,” he replied. “Give me a drink, and I shall tell you the story.” He dropped into a chair. “Give me two, and I shall not object if you laugh at it. Give me three, and I might laugh, too.”
“Gads, is itthatbad?”
“Worse. Better make it four.”
* * *
