Miss Elizabeth nodded. “The first is what I took as the truth for many weeks—that you saw nothing good in me and did not wish to sully yourself by paying attention to one unworthy of your consideration.”
“And the second?” asked Darcy, suppressing a wince at her blunt assessment.
“Is that the moment was inconsequential, that you perhaps did not even consider me so much as your desire for Mr. Bingley to leave you alone.”
Darcy allowed a faint smile. “Let no one suggest you are not perceptive, Miss Elizabeth.”
She lifted her chin just a little. “Then my conjecture is correct.”
“It is.”
With his characteristic seriousness, Darcy caught her hand in his and regarded her, displaying every ounce of his regard. “While I understand why you thought the former, the truth is the latter. I do not recall the event, beyond a vague recollection of Bingley approaching me as you describe—as that exact scene has played out several times, it does not stand out in my memory.
“What Icansay is that I cannot imagine I lacked discernment sufficient to say such things if I truly looked at you.”
Miss Elizabeth’s regard was a sort of steady desire to understand him—it heartened Darcy to see. It was evidence that she was not inclined to dismiss him as a rude gentleman who had insulted her, and gave him hope for the future.
“You were not in good humor that evening.”
Darcy offered her a grin. “That is a rather significant understatement, Miss Elizabeth. There were certain matters that weighed on my mind.” For a moment, Darcy wondered howmuch to reveal, then said: “To own the truth, George Wickham was central to those concerns.”
Miss Elizabeth’s eyes widened, but she did not press. “Then when Mr. Bingley suggested me as a dance partner...”
“All I thought of was that Bingley wasagainasking me to dance when my humor did not allow it.”
“Then why did you attend?”
“Because I owed it to Bingley as his friend to support him.” Darcy shrugged, allowing a sardonic expression of mirth. “Perhaps I might have judged better, considering my mood, but I could not deny him.”
“If that be the case,” said Miss Elizabeth, “then you do not disdain us as I always thought.”
“I shall not lie to you, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Darcy. “My situation in life has given me all the reason in the world to look down on others, and the countrified manners of your neighbors were apparent from the first moment I moved among them.”
“But you also count Mr. Bingley as a friend,” said Miss Elizabeth shrewdly. “If you were so proud as to disdain my neighbors, Mr. Bingley, who is not even a gentleman, must also merit your derision.”
“You are not incorrect,” agreed Darcy, pleased she had found something to admire in his character. “Bingley’s education and manners are above reproach, yet he is as at home in this society as in London. He is my closest friend other than my cousin—there are some in society who deplore such an unfashionable connection, but I have never cared fortheiropinions.”
Miss Elizabeth nodded. “That explains much, Mr. Darcy.” A mischievous glint entered her eyes as she added: “That does not absolve you of incivility, of course. I am still inclined to make you suffer for your temerity.”
Darcy returned her grin. “You will extract your pound of flesh with great proficiency, I am certain.”
Then Darcy deliberately raised her hand that he still held to his lips, noting the surprise in her eyes, which soon turned to something softer. It was not tenderness yet, he knew—she was not yet prepared for that. It did, however, give him hope.
“Now that I have assuaged your curiosity,” said he, squeezing her hand and dropping it as was proper, “I hope you will give credit to my interest.”
“It seems that I must,” replied she.
Quirking an eyebrow, Darcy said: “Is that all the encouragement I am to receive?”
Her answering smile was like the sun shining down after an extended storm. “Perhaps we should wait and see, Mr. Darcy.”
“Perhaps we shall,” agreed Darcy, knowing he had not failed to touch her. Where it would lead he could not say, but he was not displeased with the progress he had made.
“I WISH TO EXTEND MYgratitude, Mrs. Hurst,” said Mr. Darcy.
Louisa, who had not missed the gentleman’s close conversation with Miss Elizabeth, and the even more significant kiss on her hand, turned to regard him. Georgiana had now taken Miss Elizabeth’s attention and was speaking with her—Mr. Darcy was not displeased with his sister’s esteem for Miss Elizabeth, though he might have regretted losing her sole attention.
“For what, Mr. Darcy?” asked Louisa, though she suspected she already knew what he would say.
