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“I confound you?” Had she no notion of the tumult into which she threw him?
“You insult me and my sisters, all but calling me unattractive, yet you…” She broke off, flushing, but did not look away. “You never join your hosts on calls to Longbourn, spurning our entire family insofar as I can tell, and then you dive into a pool to save me. You assist me down the steps with every evidence of indifference, and then read to me all afternoon. I cannot tell if you are a gentleman or a rake. If you believe yourself above me or my equal. If you hold some slight interest in me or if you merely pass the time in a way that amuses you. So yes. You confound me.”
“You are very blunt,” he said, knowing his words for cowardice, for he possessed no reply that would not reveal feelings upon which he could never act.
“Nearly drowning has given me a newfound appreciation for frankness.”
He shuddered at the reminder of those brief moments before he found her in the murky water, his heart hammering. Panic had nearly undone him. The thought of losing her, and before ever truly having her… He shook his head. Madness lay that way.
His gaze dropped to her full lips.
Madness lay that way as well.
Abruptly, he stood. “I have correspondence to which I must see. Would you care for assistance back up to your room?”
She stared up at him, her head tipped to one side and her expression inscrutable.
He waited, uncertain where to look. Into her eyes seemed too direct when he had nothing of substance to offer her. Certainly he should not stare at her lips, remembering their kiss. His gaze shifted to the flagstones. Awkwardness filled him. Heat built under his collar.
“Yes.” She finally said.
A glance took in her grimace.
“Though it shames me to admit as much,” she continued, “I fear I may not be able to make the walk without your aid.”
Every discomfort left him, replaced by worry for her. He offered his hand. She placed long, delicate fingers in his.
They retraced their steps in silence he could not unravel. Companionable? No. Nor hostile. More…poised. Waiting.
But waiting for what?
When they reached the door to her bedchamber, she turned to him. After a long moment of studying his face, she shook her head, the motion slow with confusion. Without a word, she slipped into her room. It wasn’t until he reached his that he permitted guilt to envelope him. Even though she’d found the courage to confront him, he’d offered no explanation for his behavior.
***
Exhausted and confused, Elizabeth struggled with the buttons on her gown. Her limbs trembled with fatigue wrought as much from the emotions washing through her as the calamity of her dousing, but she managed to struggle free of the garment and into a nightgown. With a sigh, she collapsed onto the bed. Though it was not yet teatime, she felt far too drained to venture out again today.
She meant every word she’d said to Mr. Darcy. She’d delivered her thoughts with directness and care. Yet all she received in return was his retreat.
Correspondence indeed. They must be very urgent to require such flight. And yet mysteriously unimportant until the moment she confronted him. If her very life did not offer proof of his bravery, she might label Mr. Darcy a coward.
A soft knock sounded, accompanied by Kitty’s voice whispering, “Lizzy?”
Presumably an attempt not to wake her if she slept. “Come in,” she called back.
The door swung open to Kitty’s smile as she entered. Closing them in, she came over to perch on the chair beside the bed, her cheery expression not quite hiding the worry in her eyes. “You have retired to bed.”
“I have.” Aware her sister wanted, and deserved, more of an answer, Elizabeth added, “Perhaps you and Jane were correct. Going down to the terrace exhausted me.”
Kitty’s eyes narrowed. “The terrace, or Mr. Darcy? Each time I checked on you, you appeared pleased with his company but I doubt he is an easy or soothing companion.”
No. Especially not when Elizabeth knew the delight of his lips. Before it could reach her cheeks, Elizabeth willed down the heat that scorched up her neck. She must not think about kissing Mr. Darcy. She could never permit a second such lapse in judgment.
Pushing Mr. Darcy firmly from her mind, she asked, “You checked on me?” It amused Elizabeth that one of her silliest sisters would check on her. Then again, Kitty’s silliness was almost certainly an act.
“As any good and dutiful sister would.” Kitty glanced at the far wall, beyond which lay Jane’s room. “I checked on Jane as well. She is quite distraught. Apparently Mr. Bingley confessed his affection for her.”
Elizabeth grimaced. She’d guessed as much. Had she not been so weak, she would have hurried after Jane the moment her sister fled into the house. “How cruel of him.” Sorrow settled on her on Jane’s behalf.
