She then sighed, as one who savoured and took to heart every word of the prose, and began to close the book without looking up. “What more would you have of me, sir?” She slipped the little book into her reticule, and then, at last, lifted her chin and met his eyes. “Whatever it is, you are certainly a persistent fellow.”
“I have reason to be, madam. May I sit?” He gestured to the other side of the stone bench.
She raised her brows in acquiescence but spoke not a word.
“Thank you.” Darcy lifted his coattails and took the seat beside her, his back straight and his feet square upon the ground. He felt those mirthful eyes once more sweeping over his change in apparel, but she said nothing. “Madam, I believe I owe you something of an explanation.”
“That is the usual way of obtaining what one desires.”
Darcy glanced down at her, catching himself when he realised that looking into her eyes seemed to have a hypnotic effect on his mind. Perhaps it was only the lingering effects of the tainted brandy, but his vision seemed to swim. Thoughts fled, and his tongue was useless. He cleared his throat and looked away.
“I… I understand I have given you sufficient cause to doubt my character. Please allow me to assure you, madam, that you find me inextraordinary circumstances. I have not a deceitful nature, and I deplore all manner of artifice. I do not intend to profit by imposing myself upon you as someone I am not. Rather, I have reason to protect myself from those near to me whose intentions are less than honourable.”
“So, which is the true man? The insolent footman or the arrogant gentleman?”
Darcy felt himself bristling. “You think me arrogant?”
“Sir, my precise impression was that if we had met upon equal terms, you would have found me, and any other persons with whom I associate, beneath your notice. The guise of a footman is a poor one for you, sir, because you have not the least measure of deference.”
Darcy stared at the ground as if stung by a physical lash.If she knew my name, she would not dare!But she did not… and if she had no reason to flatter him, she also had no cause to abuse him without reason. “Have I been disdainful to you, madam?”
Her only answer was a sweetly arched brow and a pointed search through her reticule to retrieve her book. Darcy seethed. What right had she, this queer woman who wandered the streets and parks alone all day rather than conducting herself as a lady ought, to accuse him of any impropriety of manner and address?
“Madam, I have trials enough without bandying useless words regarding my recent actions and attitudes. I suffer cruelly in my own conscience already, for I do not take lightly the course upon which I am set. If it is in your mind to improve my character by your reproofs, I assure you that one moral dilemma is sufficient to the day.”
She had returned her attention to her book, ignoring him completely. His hands fell to his knees in disgust, and he prepared to rise when a gentle laugh from her halted him. Unable to resist, he looked to her. Such a peculiar creature!
“So disguise shall, by the disguised,
Pay with falsehood false exacting,
And perform an odd contracting.1”
Her ruby lips curved in obvious enjoyment and her eyes lingered on the page for a few seconds more. Then, as if she were one of his masters waiting upon him to answer his examinations, she lifted those dark lashes and held him in her grasp… the very image of perfect composure.
Darcy smiled. He could not help it. She was probing him; measuring his breeding and education, testing his willingness to prove himself, and perhaps—if that twinkle about her expression offered any insight into her own thoughts—even weighing his good humour. Never one to allow a lady to think the less of him, Darcy rose to her challenge.
“Only in this disguise I think’t no sin
To cosen him that would unjustly win.2”he quoted.
Her own smile blossomed, and she appeared satisfied. “There, sir, you have answered your dilemma. Where one has been dealt with ill, and the intent is pure, perhaps it is necessary to resort to… shall we sayless publicmeans of just compensation.”
Darcy’s spine relaxed, abandoning any notion of quitting the bench and her company. She was a curiosity! “I have done badly in not introducing myself to you,” he confessed.
“Oh! Pray, do not, for if you seek discretion, you must not depend upon even my confidence. You shall remain to me a footman, and I simply ‘madam’ to you.”
Darcy’s brow furrowed in amusement. “Then, madam, I may I ask you a question?”
“That seems a harmless enough request.”
He drew breath, then forged boldly ahead and prayed that she would not misunderstand. “Do you consider that marriage ought to be between willing partners?”
The trace of a line appeared at the corner of her mouth. “Sir, may I remind you that you are speaking to a lady?”
“My words were not intended as a proposal, madam,” he corrected quickly.
“Nor did I take them as such. I merely wonder if you recognise that it is more often ladies who are faced with an unappealing and undesired marriage partner. We have not the liberty of choosing; only of accepting or rejecting.”
