“No, madam, you have not. I did everything within my power to separate your sister from my friend.”
Her insides clenched. “May I ask why?”
“I believed your sister to be indifferent to my friend’s attentions.”
She looked at him, startled. Such calm! Such certainty! Utterly infuriating.
“Indifferent! And what, if you do not mind me asking, has driven you to form such a nonsensical conclusion?”
Mr. Darcy frowned and his posture stiffened in a way that told her he had taken offence. “My own observations, which I believedto be impartial and objective. Bingley paid her every possible attention, but your sister did not seem to encourage him with any participation of sentiment. I was preserving him from disappointment.”
“Jane rarely shows her feelings to anyone, not even to me! Since Mr. Bingley's departure, my sister has been immersed in a misery of the acutest kind!” Elizabeth said, her anger mounting. Was he too proud to admit fault?
It washistime to colour. He was pensive for a moment and replied quietly, almost reluctantly. “I must have been in error then. You certainly know your sister better than I.”
“So, their separation is not, in any way, related to her want of fortune or her poor connections?”
“The want of connection is not so great an evil in Bingley’s case as. . .” He broke off. “There were other reasons.”
“What reasons?”
Apparently affronted by her questioning, his approach reverted to the arrogant gentleman she met in Hertfordshire. “The same causes for repugnance that prevented me from. . .”
Their gazes locked, and she waited for him to finish his sentence. He did not. Mr. Darcy rose abruptly and walked over to the fireplace. He took the poker and once again poured his indignation into the coals, scattering sparks and embers in every direction.
“What reasons, sir?” She pressed on.
He turned around and shrugged his shoulders, facing her squarely. “Some occurrences regarding your family that happened during the ball and. . . other times.”
“Such as?” Vexation prickled her voice.
“The poor manners so frequently exhibited by your mother, your younger sisters, and even your father, at times,” his chin lifted with that familiar hauteur. After a pause in which he appeared to reflect his last words, he added, “In all fairness, I should add that you and Miss Bennet I must exclude from this censure. Your deportment has always been impeccable. Pardon me if my words caused you pain, but you deserve my sincerity, and I am obliged to give it to you.”
Her jaw slacked. In a trice, she looked away, unable to endure the sight of him. A tremor shivered through her frame, as anominous silence stretched, broken only when the grandfather clock chimed three.
“I should retire. Good night, sir,” she said at last, her spirit pierced by his final words. What a regrettable time for him to say such a thing! Just when she had begun to master her former abhorrence of him, he proved he abhorred everything connected to her.
She rose, but as she took the first step, he reached for her hand, gently, almost timidly.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he stood before her. You must allow me to say what I have long kept unsaid. I have struggled in vain—these feelings have warred within me for months. But I can no longer deny the truth. From the very beginning of our acquaintance, against all reason, against even my better judgement, I have admired you.”
His countenance held the certainty of a man who did not anticipate refusal. She narrowed her eyes.
“I know this is neither the time nor the place, but I cannot keep silent any longer. Elizabeth, I love—”
The door burst open, startling them both.
“Mr. Darcy, sir!” A footman’s voice rang with urgency, shattering the moment.
“Ferguson, what is it?” Mr. Darcy snapped, clearly vexed by the interruption.
“There has been an accident. . .” The man called Ferguson glanced between Elizabeth and the gentleman. “Mrs. Jenkinson has fallen. From the staircase.”
Mr. Darcy’s brow darkened. “Is she injured?”
The servant shifted uneasily. Even in her confusion, Elizabeth could tell he would not speak further in her presence.
“Where is she?” Mr. Darcy asked more urgently now.
