“Now you are choosing to misunderstand me.”
Darcy hesitated. Then, because he could not help himself, he added, “As it so happens, I agree with you. Itwouldhave been a great pity if a governess had dampened your independent spirit.”
She looked at him in surprise, her beautiful dark eyes widening. For once she was at a loss for words. Pleased that he had managed to fluster her, Darcy smiled openly.
Elizabeth returned his smile. This time her gaze did not hold a challenge. It was open and sincere, and he felt his walls crumble.
Now it washisturn to be flustered. His mouth dried up and his heart began to drum forcefully.
“Why, Mr. Darcy!” she said, “I did not know you approved of my uncivilized ways.”
Her voice was teasing, openly flirtatious.
“I—of course I approve of you, Miss Bennet.”
At this moment, he approved of everything about her. He could not recall a single reason for not asking her to marry him then and there. She was perfection itself.
It would be such a relief to stop struggling and simply let it all out. He wanted desperately to tell her how ardently he admired her and be done with it.
A wild impulse seized him. He would do it. He would propose.
“We have taken a wrong turn,” she remarked.
Darcy was so engrossed in his own quandary, he did not understand what she was saying. Had Elizabeth read his mind and was warning him not to proceed?
He felt bewildered and horribly, wretchedly disappointed.
“A wrong turn?” he repeated, his voice sounding hoarse.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy. We will have to retrace our steps. We have reached a dead end in the maze.”
He stared at the tall hedge blocking their way and began to laugh, weakly at first, then from his belly, a deep grumbling laugh that he would never have expected from himself. Meanwhile, Elizabeth stood watching him with puzzled amusement.
Elizabeth had just saved him from making the biggest mistake in his life, but he did not know whether he was laughing from relief or despair.
“So we have, Miss Elizabeth. So we have. Let us see if we can make our way back.”
***
HE HAD COME CLOSE TOthe abyss, and luck had intervened to make certain he would not do anything foolish.
The voices of all his relations flitted through his head like ghosts, clamoring against him. Many of themwereghosts. His mother, Lady Anne, a pale recollection in his mind; his father’s image, proud and demanding; the grandfather he had never met whose portrait had terrified him as a child; a knight in armor, looking down at him in the portrait gallery; a courtier in King Henry’s VIII’s court.
The procession of specters passed in front of his eyes, accusing him of sullying the family name. Then came the people who were alive. Lord and Lady Matlock; his cousin the viscount with his cold and distant wife; Lady Catherine, and Colonel Fitzwilliam—the only cousin he might count on to support him. Everyone was accusing him of failing in his duty.
Nevertheless, even with all those voices clamoring for his attention, he could not resist spending what little time he would have with her.
If he did not find his way out soon, he would be lost forever.
***
“WE NEED TO FIND A WAYout,” said Elizabeth.
Darcy started and stared at her, his eyes like a turbulent sea. She would have liked to avoid his gaze, but she was caught in it as she strove to decipher his mood.
“Miss Bennet, you have guessed my thoughts.”
She would have thought it was obvious; they were lost in the maze. Yet his intense scrutiny hinted at something else entirely. It made her aware that they were in an enclosed space and that she could no longer hear the others.
