“Then you must also agree that the loss of a friendship is a tragic thing, indeed. The material harm in such a loss cannot be measured.”
He moved toward me and caught my hand for another march, and his voice dropped to a low growl. “Unless the ‘friend’ is shown to be deficient in character, in which case, the loss ought to be his burden to bear, not mine to regret.”
I stopped mid-step. “You are very hard, Mr. Darcy. With such high standards, it must be difficult, indeed, for anyone to winyourfriendship.”
He tightened his grip on my hand and pulled me out of the way of the next dancers. “Not so difficult as you might imagine. I believe the fault you would assign to me is not lack of civility, but an unwillingness to revise my opinions once they are fixed.”
I pivoted into my place. “One must wonder what measure you use. I trust you are exceedingly careful in the forming of these opinions?”
“Exceedingly.”
And with that one word, our conversation was done. I fell to silent fuming, and he to dark brooding. The very cheek of the man! To stand here with me and all but tell me to my face that I was being deceived in Mr. Wickham’s character, whenhewas the disagreeable one and everyone knew it! For surely, it was forhispleasure that Mr. Wickham had been excluded from this evening’s enjoyment. And not because the rest of the neighborhood liked Mr. Darcy, but because he was Mr. Bingley’s friend, while the other was not.
I was too practical to think myself in love with Mr. Wickham after only two meetings, but I will own that his happy manners and the hope of a dance with such an amiable man had been my balm since Mr. Collins demanded the first set. And now, because of Mr. Darcy, I was to be denied the pleasure of a cheerful man’s company.
But there was always tomorrow. Surely, we would see him walking up the lane with Denny, and he would humbly describe some perfectly acceptable excuse for his absence. And then, he would ask to walk our party to Meryton, or call on us again in the following days.
It was only a pity that for nearly every amusement to be had in the neighborhood for the foreseeable future, Mr. Darcy’s glowering face would be my company instead. For surely,hewould be invited everywhere, and Mr. Wickham nowhere. Such a disappointment! For a lady likes to think that as the season approaches for stealing kisses under the mistletoe, she might look forward to an agreeable partner.
Mr. Darcy was not so ungentlemanly as to neglect to escort me from the floor, but it was not with a happy countenance that he did so. I matched his curt bow with an equally impudent curtsey, and finally let go a breath as he turned away. There! That unpleasantness was done for the evening. I spun round to find Charlotte before Mr. Collins could make his way across the room to ask for my hand once more.
“Did you enjoy yourself, Lizzy?” she asked from her chair.
“If I did, you ought to see it in my face. There, what do you think?” I turned my cheek from one side to the other, framing my chin with my hands and fluttering my lashes. “Do I look like a girl who just relished her dance with the most valuable bachelor in the room?”
“Not a bit of it. I hope you did not tease him, Lizzy.”
I sank into the chair beside her with a sigh. “No, we argued instead.”
“Oh, Lizzy!” Charlotte shook her head and rested a hand on her stomach. “You would do better to keep quiet altogether than to provoke such a man as Mr. Darcy.”
“Come, Charlotte, you know I might as well try to stop the sun in its tracks as my mouth. But do not worry—I said nothing he did not deserve, and richly.”
She sighed and brushed her forehead with the back of her hand. “Just be careful not to make an enemy of Mr. Darcy. I should think his regard to be something worth having.”
I snorted rudely into my glass.
Twenty-Seven November
Ihave always admiredthe notion of love. Romance to sigh over, devotion to curl a girl’s toes, and passion enough to shatter a heart in two. The sort that is not even spoken about in polite company because it might cause a lady to sweat inconveniently. Perhaps I had read too many novels, but a gallant sir knight to sweep away the princess and promise to spend the rest of his days making all her dreams come true—that wasmyidea of a romantic proposal.
This, however… no.
“My fairest cousin, allow me to protest the sincerity of my feelings, the ardency of my devotion, the depth of my affection—”
I pressed my fingers into my temples. “Mr. Collins, you are simply repeating yourself. I have declined your offer as many times as you have tendered it, and I mean to continue doing so, as long as you keep drawing breath. There is no possible scenario where we would suit one another. In fact, I am quite certain that your esteemed Lady Catherine would be appalled by me.”
He clasped his hand over his chest. “Oh, not so, cousin! Why, she is eminently gracious and welcoming. Her condescension is everything magnanimous and splendid, and the advantages of her friendship are too numerous to be counted. I flatter myself, any young lady would—”
“Any young lady but this one. I am sorry, Mr. Collins, but my answer remains unchanged.”
I pushed up from the sofa, nearly knocking him backward as I did so—for keeping a polite distance was not something he seemed to understand—and marched out of the room.
It was no mystery what would happen next. He would apply to Mama to try to make me see reason. Mama would weep and mourn about what a foolish, headstrong girl I was, and she would batter the door of Papa’s study until he grew tired of the hullabaloo and heard her out.
I would be forced to stand by while Mama sobbed she would never speak to me again unless Papa made me marry Mr. Collins, while Mr. Collins continued with his delusions about his passionate romance and how insensitive I was to the delicacy of my own position. Papa would roll his eyes and declare he would have nothing to do with the matter. And…
That was why I was already on my way out the door toward Lucas Lodge, still buttoning my pelisse and tying my bonnet as I scampered away from the house.
