His shoulders relaxed, and the corners of his lips curled upward. “When I did finally condescend to ask you for a dance, you refused me.”
Elizabeth gasped. “And that gave you pleasure?” Itwas a wonder they had agreed to marry at all with such a dreadful start.
His smile spread. Gracious, he was handsome. “It was after the Meryton Assembly. Sir William Lucas invited us to Lucas Lodge and, being of a merry sort, he insisted we dance. I recall his precise words to you: ‘Who would object to such a partner?’”
Mr. Darcy chuckled. “I accepted his favorable appraisal of my person, my character, as a matter of course … until you looked at me archly and turned away to join another party, leaving me with a gaping Sir William and my own injured pride.”
She glanced at him askance. Was the man mad?
“No lady had ever put me so effectively in my place. Your refusal to place my gratification above your own esteem won my respect.”
“Were you really so haughty?” While Elizabeth had suspected him proud, she had not thought him arrogant.
“It pains me to admit it, but I saw nobody but you the rest of the evening. There being nothing subtle about our exchange, word spread and Miss Bingley joined me, eager to benefit from your dismissal. She assumed to know the subject of my reverie.”
“How did she fare?”
“I told her she could not possibly imagine the subject of my contemplations, and it was when she attempted to guess that I got a glimpse of the offensiveness of my behavior.”
When he did not immediately speak, Elizabeth prompted, “What did she say?”
“She assumed I was considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings with such society. She complained of the insipidity and the noise, of the self-importance of the people she considered to be nothing. She pressed me to express my strictures on them. So certain was she of my disapproval, of my judgment, she expressed her approval of my opinions without any need of me giving them voice. I assured her that her conjecture was totally wrong, that my mind was more agreeably engaged.”
The way he looked at Elizabeth confirmed that she was the subject in which he his mind had been so agreeably engaged, but she wanted to hear it anyway. “Oh?”
“I told her I had been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow. And then, I named you.”
“You said you admired me? To Miss Bingley?” How delightful! Elizabeth would have loved to have observed Miss Bingley’s set-down.
Elizabeth frowned. Surely, had she known of this conversation, she would remember it. “Did I know this before today?”
Mr. Darcy thought for several moments. “If you did know, I do not believe I was the one to tell you. We rarely spoke of Miss Bingley, having many better topics to discuss.”
She sighed her relief. She could not recall what she had not known.
Longbourn came into view, and Elizabeth’s attention was caught by the curtain billowing through her open window. Strange. She often left it ajar, but she was almost certain Mrs. Hill had closed it.
Elizabeth tried to remember what had happened before leaving Longbourn. The footman had lost Mr. Hill, Mama had been beside herself, Jane had been beautiful and calm. Mrs. Hill had seen to everyone’s agitations and troubles. But the details of what Elizabeth had been doing were blurry. Something with a letter? She clenched her fists, trying harder, asking herself more questions and her frustration mounting when she simply could not recall.
They were close enough to Longbourn to hear the commotion inside.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the narrow entrance hall, Mr. Darcy following closely behind her.
Mrs. Hill bustled by, face flushed and carrying a tray laden with wedding cake sitting atop Mama’s best china, into the drawing room.
That was not quite right. The wedding feast was supposed to be held in the larger dining room. Mr. Darcy sensed it too. The offness.
Raucous laughter and a voice Elizabeth had not heard in several months — a voice she had not thought to hear for at least several more — whined, “This cake is not as delicious as what I am accustomed to in thenorth. My dear Wickham always ensured I had the best, what with me being with child and all.”
Elizabeth froze this side of the doorway. On the other side, she heard her father say under his breath, “Lord help us.”
CHAPTER 14
Darcy peeked over Elizabeth’s head. Mrs. Wickham occupied the entire settee. One hand rested over her stomach, the other held a plate of cake of which she had already eaten the greater portion, despite her complaints of its inferiority. Several cushions were propped behind her back, but Mrs. Bennet seemed to think that was not enough. She took the pillow from Mr. Bennet’s chair before he could sit in it and stuffed it behind her youngest daughter before she refilled Mrs. Wickham’s teacup, generously doling sugar into the steaming liquid and stirring as she gushed, “It was very considerate of Mr. Wickham to see to your comfort. Hurry and eat your cake so that we may join the rest of our party in the dining room.”
Wickham, considerate? Of anyone besides himself?Darcy squeezed his eyelids closed to keep from rolling his eyes.
“Darcy! Lizzy! Come in!” Mr. Bennet exclaimed, waving them in and looking grateful for their arrival. “You have heard Lydia’s news, I presume?”
