“That’s enough,” I growled. “I am handling things. Quite well, in fact.”
“Ye couldnae handle a sheep wi’ a stick if it were standin’ still.”
I bit back a sharp retort, taking a deep breath. “And what exactly do you propose I do? Go back there and declare myself like some lovesick fool?”
“Why no’?” Ewan shrugged. “At least she’d ken ye’re alive, instead o’ wonderin’ why ye keep runnin’ fae her like she’s got claws.”
I groaned again, exasperated. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Dinnae I?” He shot me a sideways glance, arms crossed. “If ye had even half the fire that lass has, ye’d ha’ wed her by now, nae doubt.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at him. “Wedher?! We aren’t even courting! Egad, I don’t evenlikeher.”
“Oh, aye?” He tapped his chin, looking thoughtful. “Well then, if there’s nae objections, I reckon I might just—”
“You will leave the lady alone!” I cried. “Last night was more than enough meddling!”
He grinned and set his fists on his hips. “No’ when a lassie fancies a man.”
“Fancies… She can barely stand to be in the same room with me!”
“Because ye act like ye’re terrified o’ her!” Ewan fired back. “Aye, lad. Ye’ve got all the charm o’ a wet mop, an’ ye run like one too. If ye’d stop bein’ such a stubborn Sassenach, ye’d see the lass looks at ye more than ye think.”
I felt my mouth open to argue, but nothing came out. He was grinning, clearly having the time of his life, while I stood there, thoroughly rattled. The worst part? He wasn’t entirely wrong. Shewasthe only one at Netherfield who even noticed me—trulynoticedme—enough to see that something was amiss.
A pity she thought I was barking mad.
“I am not discussing this with you anymore,” I muttered, turning sharply and marching back toward the house.
Ewan’s voice followed me, as irritatingly cheerful as ever. “Aye, run along now! Back tae yer books, yer ruminatin’. Maybe one day ye’ll grow a spine!”
I didn’t stop, but I could feel my teeth grinding. If I were not careful, I’d be the first person in history to die from sheer annoyance.
Darcy
“How is Miss Bennetthis evening, Miss Elizabeth?” Bingley asked, his eyes bright with concern as he leaned forward slightly. “I trust she is recovering well?”
Elizabeth set down her spoon before replying. “My sister was in excellent spirits earlier, Mr. Bingley. I expect we shall return to Longbourn tomorrow.”
Bingley frowned. “Tomorrow? Surely, you could both stay a little longer. Another day or two to fully recover might be best. Do you not agree?”
Elizabeth’s eyes flicked—almost too quickly—toward me before settling back on Bingley. “I’m confident my sister is well enough to return home,” she replied. Her tone was firm, but I couldn’t help noticing the slight shift in her expression. Did she think I might object? Or had my presence been the reason for her eagerness to leave?
Better she should go. One less complication for me to fight myself over.
I kept my gaze fixed on my wine glass, reminding myself to breathe. Ever since that cursed conversation in the garden, I’d found myself…noticingtoo much. The way Elizabeth Bennettilted her head when she laughed, the way her eyes held a spark of something sharp and intelligent when she said something witty. Which she did with regularity, and I think I was the only one at Netherfield who even perceived half the clever things she said. Caroline Bingley had no idea that Elizabeth Bennet was laughing at her more often than not, because she had a sweetly devious way of turning her slights to sound like compliments to vain ears.
And I was fascinated.
I stared down at my plate, suddenly very aware of how insidious this attraction to her had become. Whatever it was that drew my attention to Elizabeth Bennet, it was dangerous—utterly unwanted—and growing harder to dismiss.
Worse than that… it was ever in my face, because even when the lady was not in the same room, I still had that wretched Highlander apparition urging me to do and think things unbecoming of a gentleman. “She looks at ye…”he had claimed.
As if Elizabeth Bennet would be caught within half a mile of me if she had any alternatives. If shedidlook at me, it was because she had every reason to believe I was mad as a hatter!
But there I was, allowing myself to watch her. The way she laughed softly at something Bingley said, the way her fingers brushed absently against the tablecloth, the way she met every exchange with a keen wit that belied her playful nature. She truly was... remarkable.
For a blissful moment, Ewan was absent, leaving my thoughts and admiration uninterrupted. I leaned forward slightly, debating whether I should actually say something to her. Something benign, harmless, to provoke her to look my way and tilt her head just so when she replied.
