His tone did not change, but something in it softened. “After my father’s death, there was little leisure for anything else. I had much to learn – and I applied myself to it.”
Elizabeth could not mistake the truth of that.
“The world you speak of,” he went on, “has never held much attraction for me. Society, as it is commonly enjoyed, I have generally found… fatiguing.” A faint, almost reluctant smile touched his expression. “I attend it because I must. Not because I excel in it.”
Elizabeth’s lips curved slightly. “You are too harsh.”
“Maybe.”
A brief pause followed.
“I have acquaintances,” he said. “And a very few friends. Bingley – because he possesses a warmth I do not. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam – you would understand him immediately; he has none of my reserve.”
Elizabeth listened more closely now.
“But I have never,” he continued, more quietly, “met with anyone who made me forget myself.”
She felt the words before she fully understood them.
“Until now.”
Elizabeth looked down.
Darcy did not press the moment but went on with quiet steadiness.
“You speak of my world as though it must separate us. Perhaps it ought to.” He paused. “But I find I have very little inclination to let it do so.”
Elizabeth’s breath came a little quicker.
“When your mother spoke,” he added, “of one of her daughters being soon married…” He stopped, as though weighing the admission. “I believed she meantyou.”
Elizabeth looked up, startled.
“I did not like the idea. Did not like it at all,” he said simply. “Truthfully, I would not like to live through those moments again until it became clear that it was Miss Mary.”
Elizabeth swallowed. There was no emphasis in the words – only truth. Silence followed. Elizabeth could not immediatelycommand her voice. At last she said, more softly than before, “After that you talked to my father.”
“Yes.
She searched his eyes. “I-I did not know. Thank you for telling me.”
He held her gaze.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said quietly, “I wish you did not think so little of yourself.”
She did not answer.
“I am not here out of generosity,” he continued. “Nor from any sense of obligation.” He looked into her eyes. “I am here because I value your company above any other.”
Elizabeth felt her breath catch.
“You bring a liveliness,” he said, more deliberately, “which I have not met with elsewhere – and which I find I am unwilling to do without.”
He hesitated only slightly. “And if I speak plainly,” he added, “it is because I would not have you mistake my intentions.”
Elizabeth’s colour deepened.
Darcy’s voice softened, though it did not lose its steadiness. “What I possess – my home, my position – has long been a matter of duty. I do not think of it as something to display.” He gently took her gloved hand. “But it would be of far greater consequence to me… if it were shared with someone I esteem.” He squeezed her hand in his.
