She was giving him a look he could not understand. Why did she look so distressed now? “And what will everyone at Hunsford think when they realise we are both gone?” Her voice raised in pitch.
“They might think we suffered an accident or?—”
She leapt to her feet. “If there is no message from our abductors, they might think we have run off together!”
Darcy struggled for composure at her horrified tone. “Well, you will certainly disavow them of that notion after they free you. I suspect you will be quick and confident with your assertions that you would never, ever throw yourself under my power, leave all of your friends, and elope with the likes of one you hate.”
He turned away, trying to put some distance between them, and almost tripped over the tray. He was tempted to kick it and let out a curse, but stepped over it to sit on the side of the bed with some of his dignity in place. As though this situation was not dreadful and frightening enough, he was now trapped in close quarters with a woman who not only refused him, but detested him.
After a few awkward minutes had passed, he felt a gentle hand on his arm. “I do not hate you,” she said, and he felt the heat of her touch through his sleeves. It made his heart beat a little fast. “I admit I was wrong in assuming the worst of you regarding Jane and Bingley, and you seem willing to correct that error.” Before he could agree, she dropped her hand and added, “I still feel that you have been arrogant in all of your dealings with those outside your circle, and have a selfish disdain for their feelings as well, but please do not think I hate you.”
Darcy shifted on the bed to look at her, feeling indignant. “If people will make me out to be so proud and selfish, they are very welcome, and I shall take the liberty of caring very little about it.” When had he ever been concerned about what other people, what strangers, thought of him? She opened her mouth, but he interrupted her, saying, “And how disdainful of others’ feelings could I truly be if I will risk my friendship with Bingley for the sake of your sister’s happiness?”
“You were disdainful of Mr Wickham’s feelings,” she murmured.
When would his animosity toward the man who nearly ruined his sister settle into a cool indifference? “This is not the time to talk about that man, and I will thank you not to mention his name again!”
His severe reply silenced her, but he knew he had not been completely honest. Although he rarely cared what strangers thought of him, he had already conceded that she had not been wrong about his nature. About Wickham, she was completely wrong, but Darcy knew that she had been right about his own manner.
“I realise, Miss Bennet, that I have for all my life been wishing to think meanly of others’ sense and worth compared with my own, and I know I ought to do better by them.” He addressed his next words to the wall in front of him. “I donot deserve that you have taken so marked a dislike to me, but I assure you that your words, ‘Had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner’ have made an impression on me.” He gave a wry laugh. “I might even say tortured me, but hyperbole seems inappropriate given what has happened to us.”
At the foot of the bed, Elizabeth fell onto her back, her feet tapping against the floor, looking at the ceiling and not at him. “You are right,” she said. From where he sat on the side of the bed, he now had a clear view of her face. “You could not be so selfish if you will confess all to Mr Bingley based only on my say-so. My dislike of you was based on something trivial, never amended as I knew you better, and it was wrong of me. I am sorry.”
“What,” he asked haltingly, a little afraid of the answer, “what was the basis of that dislike?”
“First impressions, you know, are generally longest remembered.”
Darcy clearly remembered the first time he spoke with Elizabeth beyond common courtesies. “I did not have courage enough to speak to you until a party at Lucas Lodge.” He could not remember saying anything offensive to her that evening. He had even asked her to dance.
She gave a little laugh. “For one so resolute, someone with such clear opinions, you lacking the courage to do anything surprises me. We did notspeakat the assembly in Meryton, but you did look at me, and?—”
“I remember. You were watching the dancers.”
He had felt something when she looked at him then, sitting alone and not dancing—and she was just as pretty as Bingley had said. He had not wanted to dance, he had not thought her deserving of his notice, but he had still feltsomething. An initial attraction, perhaps, something he had later thought was a genuine connexion.
“Yes, but I should tell you that most of the room disapproved of you by then. I was not alone in thinking you acted as though you were above your company.”
“I remember what you said at Rosings,” he said flatly. “Apparently, my dancing only four dances was a great crime.”
“The greater crime was declining being introduced to any other lady and speaking only to your own party. You were decided to be the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world.”
“And this is why you said that from the first moment of our acquaintance…” He did not want to repeat the words she had said. Hearing them only once had imprinted them into his brain forever.
“No,” she said through a sigh. “This paints me as a vain creature, Mr Darcy, so be prepared for what little remains of your affection for me to be driven away. You then looked at me, as you remember, then coldly withdrew your gaze to say to your friend, ‘She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to temptme; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.’ That left me with no cordial feelings toward you, but I regret how I allowed that to cloud my judgment.”
Conscious and ashamed, Darcy sat back. Ashamed that he had thought such a thing and ashamed for having said it. He was sensible now of the extent of what his own actions had cost him.
“I am damned sorry I said something so unkind,” he said gently, “and so untrue. There is no excuse for it.”
Still lying on the bed, she turned her head just enough to look at him. “No, I was vain. Mortifyingly vain?—”
“I think you very handsome,” Darcy said quickly. “You might not believe me, but within a month of knowing you—” He leant a little closer, balancing on his hand so he could better see into her face. “Once I had taken proper notice of you…” He couldhardly say what he thought of her eyes, her figure, her playful manner now. “You are a handsome woman, and nothing excuses my shocking rudeness.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks turned pink as she turned on her side, propping her head up on her hand. “It would speak all the worse of me if I was now flattered to be thought handsome when I held such a grudge for being thought just tolerable.”
“But that is what I failed to do,” he said. “Ioughtto have flattered you when I asked you to marry me. I ought to have aimed to please a woman who is indisputably worthy of being pleased.”
He heard her gasp. “Well, I am sorry for how uncivil I was last night, and for holding a grudge against you for your neglect at the assembly.” She gave a weak smile. “We have more important concerns right now, and everything about that assembly, at least, ought to be forgotten.”
