Mr. Worsley answered her question. “I cannot speak for Darcy on this point, but as a man of privilege I can say that I quickly get tired of ladies who pander to my every whim and every opinion.” He looked at Mary affectionately and said, “It is entirely refreshing to speak to a lady who is capable of disagreeing with me on occasion.”
“But we do not disagree only on occasion,” said Elizabeth. “We disagree constantly. In fact, we have never agreed on anything.”
“You do not know that, Elizabeth,” said Mary. “You have not spoken to him for more than five minutes total. How can you possibly know if you will always disagree.”
Slowly, with each bit of explanation from Mary and Mr. Worsley, Elizabeth’s wall of anger toward Mr. Darcy was crumbling. She didn’t like the feeling, but it seemed morally wrong to cling to her anger in the face of an honest apology and reasonable explanations. With this last statement from Mary, the last of the wall tumbled.
Elizabeth sighed. “Very well,” she said, “I will accept his apologies, but I cannot go riding with him tomorrow. I do not ride at all.”
“Perhaps you could take the phaeton, instead,” said Mary. “You do so enjoy driving it, after all.”
“That sounds acceptable,” said Elizabeth.
“Just make certain to take the stablemaster with you as chaperone,” said Mary.
Chapter 17
The following day found Elizabeth full of nerves. Mr. Darcy was essentially a stranger, but she would be spending an entire hour in his company as they drove through Mary’s estate. Even if there hadn’t been an emotionally fraught history between them, she would have been nervous, but their shared painful past made everything so much worse.
At two in the afternoon, Mr. Darcy arrived at Braydon Hall asking for Elizabeth. He was shown into the drawing room where she waited, and he was clearly ill at ease. He did not know whether she would accept his invitation, since she had sent no reply to his letter.
Elizabeth immediately felt bad for the man, so she said, “There is no need to be quite so nervous, Mr. Darcy. I have not rejected your invitation. I have, however, made an alteration. I do not ride, you see, so I cannot go riding with you. However, I do have a sweet little phaeton that we can use to go driving instead. Will that do?”
Mr. Darcy’s nervous face relaxed a bit. “That sounds delightful.”
“It will take a couple of minutes for the phaeton to be ready,” said Elizabeth. “Won’t you sit down?”
Once he was seated, he said, “This is a pleasant home. Your sister has been rather fortunate.”
Elizabeth did not know how to respond to that. Her feelings about Mary’s first marriage were mixed. On the one hand, she thought it was entirely unreasonable for Papa to allow Mary to marry someone so much older than herself. On the other hand, Mary had actually seemed happy in her marriage, and she had grown into a wonderful, independent lady who Elizabeth looked up to.
“I think, on the whole, I would agree with you,” she said. “Mr. Allen was a very good husband to Mary.” Not wishing to continue the subject, she said, “By the way, how is your aunt? The last time I saw Lady Matlock was in April. I am sure Mary has heard from her, but she does not read me all her letters.”
Darcy’s face relaxed into a small smile, and Elizabeth found the expression made him quite handsome. “Mrs. Allen asked me the same question two weeks ago, though she used it to remind me that Lady Matlock would be quite displeased by my behavior. As far as I know, she is doing well. She is currently at Matlock, though she will be returning to London after Christmas.”
They chatted for a bit about London and a few mutual acquaintances until a footman came in to announce that Elizabeth’s phaeton was ready.
They walked outside, and Elizabeth could see that the stablemaster was already mounted on a horse which was standing behind the phaeton, ready to chaperone them on their drive. The footman produced the steps which she always used to climb into her vehicle. Once she was seated, Mr. Darcy climbed up on the other side.
Without a word, Elizabeth lifted the reins and they were off.
There was silence between them, and Elizabeth began to wonder if she was going to be required to begin the conversation again.
“I wonder, Mr. Darcy,” she said, “why you were so insistent on this outing, yet you are not saying anything. Did you have something particular in mind when you requested it?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Darcy turn to her, though she kept her gaze forward, focusing on guiding the horse.
“I cannot say that I had any particular subject in mind,” he answered, “but I did have a very important purpose to my request.”
“Oh? And what is that?” she asked.
“All I wanted was to be near you and hear you speak,” he said.
The simplicity of the statement combined with the earnestness in his voice to create one of the most compelling declarations Elizabeth had ever heard. She had heard attraction and love described in many ways, but none were so compact yet so all-encompassing as this one.
Against her will, she looked at the man in the carriage beside her. His expression was still blank, much like it had been when he had offered his offensive compliment at Lucas Lodge, but there was something in his eyes that belied his expression, a gentle heat. It reminded her of banked coals which provide some warmth but mostly gave the promise of a good blaze once they have been stirred up.
She did not know what to make of this man, so she resorted to flippancy.
