Elizabeth’s colour deepened.
Mrs. Bennet gasped. “Consent! Lizzy!”
Elizabeth, with effort, steadied herself. “You must not be in such haste, Mama. Indeed, Mr. Darcy and I are courting. We wish to determine whether we suit one another.”
Mrs. Bennet gave another gasp and placed her hand before her mouth, though some inarticulate sound still escaped. “If you suit?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“I never considered. Oh, Mr. Darcy, Lizzy is a good girl, very clever indeed…”
“You do not need to convince me, Mrs. Bennet. I am very sensible of her beauty, too.”
“Oh, she is-she is very beautiful, Mr. Darcy. How good of you to notice. What am I saying? Of course, you noticed it. Well, do not stand here. Walk on, pray – and talk.”
What was there to talk about? she asked herself, as she walked away, still in a daze. She could hardly account for it. A man worth ten thousand and likely more, and a big estate in the north. Good Lord, she thought suddenly, how fortunate that Mr. Collins turned towards Mary. It would have been a most unfortunate waste.
For a few moments, neither spoke. Then Elizabeth said, with a quiet attempt at composure, “I believe we may safely conclude that my mother knows.”
Darcy glanced at her. “I believe we may. Does this trouble you?”
“She was certain to discover it sooner or later,” Elizabeth continued. “Though I confess I expected… rather more.”
Darcy’s expression altered slightly. “More?”
“More enthusiasm,” she said, with a faint smile. “More questions. More – decided conclusions.”
Darcy considered this. “Perhaps,” he said, “she chose, for the present, to restrain herself.”
Elizabeth looked at him with some amusement. “My mother, sir, is not often governed by restraint.”
“No,” he admitted. “But she is not without perception.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.
“In matters of consequence,” he added, “she may perhaps feel that observation serves her better than declaration.”
Elizabeth was silent a moment.
“Until now,” she said more quietly, “you were safe from her notice, because she never imagined that a gentleman such as yourself would… distinguish me in this manner.”
She hesitated, then added, with a faint, uncertain smile, “And I cannot say I imagined it either.”
A pause followed.
“What are you doing here with me, Mr. Darcy?” she said at last, more seriously. “I cannot even conceive of your world.”
Darcy stopped. Elizabeth, startled, turned toward him.
For a moment he said nothing. When he spoke, it was without hesitation. “I am here,” he said, “because I wish to be.”
Elizabeth held his gaze but did not answer.
Darcy remained still a moment, as though considering how much to say. “My life,” he continued at last, “has been, for some years, very much governed by duty.”
Elizabeth listened.
“To my estate. To my family. To my sister, most particularly.”
