“No, sir,” he said, a little more stiffly than he intended. “I do not presume upon any such talent.”
“A pity. It would save us both the labor of speech.”
Darcy drew a breath. “I have come to request your permission to court Miss Elizabeth.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyebrow remained where it was.
Silence returned.
It was not the silence of thought alone. Darcy had the distinct impression that Mr. Bennet allowed it to lengthen because he enjoyed watching other men endure discomfort. Darcy stood still beneath it, though every second scraped against his nerves.
At last, Mr. Bennet sighed and gestured toward the chair opposite him. “Sit down, Mr. Darcy. It seems this conversation will be longer than I expected.”
Darcy sat.
Mr. Bennet continued to study him. “Courtship, you say.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Not marriage.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “I proposed marriage this morning.”
Both Mr. Bennet’s eyebrows rose now. “Did you?”
“Yes.”
“And my daughter refused you?”
Darcy felt the words like an old bruise pressed hard. “She declined my offer of marriage, yes.”
“How very Lizzy-like.”
Darcy was not certain how to answer that.
Mr. Bennet tapped one finger against the arm of his chair. “And yet you are here requesting permission to court her.”
“Yes. It is what she requested.”
“Why?”
“Because she wishes to know me better.”
“A prudent answer. Unusually prudent, for a young lady who has just had a gentleman of your consequence throw himself at her feet before breakfast.”
Darcy’s neck warmed. “I did not precisely throw myself at her feet.”
“No? A pity. It would have made the story better.”
Darcy looked down briefly, then forced himself to meet Mr. Bennet’s gaze. “Miss Elizabeth felt that marriage was too serious a commitment to enter upon while our acquaintance is still so brief and while there have been misunderstandings between us. She believed a courtship would allow us to speak more openly and determine whether our regard is steady enough to bear the duties attached to it.”
For the first time, Mr. Bennet’s amusement softened into something nearer attention. “That does sound like Lizzy.”
“It does her credit.”
“It often does.” Mr. Bennet leaned back again. “Now, Mr. Darcy, let us proceed to the less romantic portions of the matter. Can you support a wife?”
“Yes.”
