“You are an excellent man, Mr. Darcy,” she said after a brief pause.
“Sadly, not entirely. I try to be, but I fail at times. I was taught good principles, but I realise I have applied them in a selfish manner. You opened my eyes when you told me that you were not surprised that I helped the Gilroy family with food, but you were amazed that I give the children attention.”
“Oh, please forgive me. It was certainly not my right to say that!”
“No, it was not.” He smiled. “But I am glad you did so. Also, you told me that I showed no consideration for your family. That is also true. I gave no importance to anyone in Meryton during my stay there. None of them mattered at all.”
He paused, breathed deeply, then added, “Except for you.”
Elizabeth’s heart stopped, and she watched him with bewilderment before clearing her throat. “Me, sir?”
“Yes. I hoped you had noticed it a while ago.”
“Noticed it?” she repeated, her astonishment now complete.
“Yes, my interest and my admiration for you.”
For a moment, Elizabeth suspected he was teasing her. Yet, he looked serious, even stern, a deep frown between his eyebrows.
“Not at all,” she admitted. “Until I saw you with the children and spent a little while talking, I was certain that you always looked at me to find fault.”
“You revealed your true opinion when you declared we were more enemies than friends. At that moment, I realised how wrong I had been in my estimation. I should have known I was wrong in judging your sister too.”
“Mr. Darcy, please forgive me…but I feel there is a misunderstanding, and I wish to clarify it. May I ask about the nature of your interest?” she whispered.
“It is of whatever nature you wish it to be, Miss Bennet,” he responded, puzzling her even more. “Please know that I have admired you for a long time, and I am deeply sorry for any harm I have caused you or your family through my arrogant andthoughtless actions. Your friendship — if you will allow me to have it — is valuable to me, and I shall not do or say anything to make you uncomfortable.”
In a perturbed state of mind, wondering about his meaning, fearing to assume what was still unclear, Elizabeth could only reply with a timid and silly, “Thank you.”
He smiled and seemed content. “Shall we walk a little farther?” he asked.
“Yes…for a little while. I must return for breakfast. Mr. Collins is as strict about punctuality as Lady Catherine.”
He laughed, and suddenly the barrier of tension broke between them.
“Mr. Collins emulates my aunt in everything.”
“Yes, Lady Catherine could not be the object of a more loyal adoration.”
“Something that she truly relishes,” he joked.
“Miss de Bourgh does not seem to resemble your aunt.”
“She does not. She is very much like Sir Lewis — both in appearance and in nature.”
The subject was on her lips, and although she knew it was highly improper to voice it, she could not restrain herself.
“I hear you are engaged to Miss de Bourgh.”
He turned his head, and her eyes met his.
“I am not. This is a ridiculous fantasy my aunt has entertained since Anne and I were infants. She claimed she agreed upon it with my mother — something that nobody else has ever heard of. Regardless, I would never marry someone to indulge a twenty-five-year-old agreement.”
“And Miss de Bourgh? Has she no expectations? She must be hurt if—”
“Miss Bennet, I have discussed the matter with my cousin many times. My affection for her is genuine — though of a different nature — and I would never do anything to harm her.”
“Of course.”
