She wanted to hug Mr. Darcy … and strangle him. If this was what love was, then the contrary emotions plaguing her since the accident were proof of her heart’s steadfastness.
Or — another possibility — this conflict of interest would reveal a side of Mr. Darcy she had not previously known. If her findings led to nothing more than testing his true character, then it was time well spent and effort wisely expended.
Lifting her chin, Elizabeth met his stare … glare. “I will not be intimidated, Mr. Darcy. Not by anyone, and certainly not by you.”
His nostrils flared. “Well do I know it, dash it all. Your courage always rises to the occasion.”
He did not say it as a compliment, but Elizabeth took great pleasure in understanding it as one anyway. Bobbing a curtsy, she said, “Thank you.”
His eyes narrowed at her, and a growly sound emanated from his throat.
But the corners of his lips twitched.
Darcy pinchedthe bridge of his nose, a headache pressing against skull. The amnesia had not changed Elizabeth’s character in the least. She was every bit as intrepid and bold and … and stubborn as she had ever been.
He wanted to strangle her … and hold her.
Elizabeth’s determination to poke into the sabotage might stir up a hornets’ nest. He could not leave her to investigate alone. It altered his plans. He would need to stay near to offer his protection when he ought to be riding to London in search of a treatment to heal her condition.
Blast the woman!
He would have to write to Richard. His cousin, the colonel, would request leave and join them fromLondon posthaste if the message was urgent. Darcy would ensure its urgency.
Elizabeth would not like having two bodyguards following her just as she had resisted every other suggestion he had made.
Headstrong woman.
He would make one more plea, then Lord help her. Holding his hands in front of him, he said, “Allow me to help you.”
Her eyes flashed. “I assure you, Mr. Darcy, I am perfectly capable of solving this mystery on my own. I have not lost my mind … not yet. I am not mad or incapable.”
One more plea. “I never meant to imply you were. I only want to keep you safe from harm.”
She jutted out her chin. She was so stubborn.
And oh, how he adored her.
CHAPTER 17
Darcy knew Elizabeth was upset. He ought to have asked her what she thought instead of assuming the full responsibility of her care. He winced. For treating her like a mindless invalid.
The damage was done.
If only she knew how helpless he felt. Had he been in the carriage, he might have protected her. Had he stopped by Longbourn before the ceremony, as he had yearned to do, he might have seen the damage and prevented the accident.
He ought to have prevented it.
Heaving a sigh, Darcy said, “I am sorry, Elizabeth. My eagerness to protect you from harm makes me presumptuous and imperious. Please understand I am only thinking of you.”
Her confusion pained his heart. Knowing Elizabeth could no longer read his reactions and thoughts asclearly as she had the day prior robbed him of certainty.
He held his breath, waiting for her humor to shine through, and was rewarded. She teased, “How can I stay angry at you when you admit to your error so easily? It is impossible.”
Elizabeth did not hold grudges as he did — thank goodness, or he never would have persuaded her to love him. She forgave as quickly as her anger flashed. As many times as Darcy had been the recipient of her clemency, he marveled at her ability to forgive and forget. Now that she was unable to recall him and his errors to mind, he appreciated even more how affection had allowed her to cover over his transgressions of her own volition. It was her gift.
He extended his hand to her. “I have some urgent letters to write. Do you wish to return with me, or would you rather remain here?” His fingers reached for her, aching for her touch.
She folded her hands together. “I have a great deal to consider and wish to be alone for a few more minutes.”
