Elizabeth sat very straight and very still as she listened. Her eyes remained fixed upon his face, searching for some clue that might reveal the true nature of his relationship with Miss Bingley.
After a moment, he asked, "You have nothing to say, darling?"
She looked back at him with a grave expression.
He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away from him. He continued.
"That greeting must have appeared peculiar to you. I confess she has always greeted me in that manner, and though I do not care for it and disengage myself as soon as I am able, she has never taken the hint. I am afraid it has become a habit of seven years' standing."
Elizabeth pressed her lips into a thin line, and she watched his face through narrowed eyes.
"Darling, I can see that you are upset by…"
"The spectacle, sir?"
"I was going to say, by what passed between my old friend and me."
"Old friend, sir? She seems quite young to me. And voluptuous."
Despite the tension, the corner of his mouth twitched.
"I meant a friend of long standing. There is nothing between us, I assure you."
"And I assure you, sir, that you cannot assure me of any such thing. Her embrace was…"
"Ah, yes. Her manner was exceedingly familiar, and upon reflection, I can understand why you would be distressed by what you witnessed."
Elizabeth clasped her hands tightly in her lap. "It is not what I saw that is so distressing to me, sir, but what I have not seen that most concerns me."
Darcy's expression grew serious. "What do you mean, Elizabeth?"
She held his gaze. "Is she, or has she ever been, your mistress, sir?"
His brows rose nearly to his hairline in astonishment.
"My mistress? Elizabeth, how can you say such a thing to me after all this time? Surely you know me better than that."
Her eyes filled with tears. "I thought I did, sir, but what I witnessed and her familiarity with your person told me a different story. She attached herself to you as though she hadsome claim upon you, as though it were a familiar embrace, Mr. Darcy."
"Mr. Darcy? I am Mr. Darcy to you now?"
The tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. He offered her a handkerchief. She accepted it and dashed the tears away with more force than was necessary.
"I hate that I am weeping, sir. I have no wish for you to see me humiliated in this way, by a woman who so plainly believes herself entitled to your attentions...and to your person."
His expression softened. "Elizabeth." He placed his hands upon her shoulders and bent his head nearer to hers.
"She is not my mistress. There is nothing between us. There never has been, and there never will be. She would likely agree to become my mistress if she could not be my wife, but I assure you, Elizabeth, I have never regarded her in that way. She is my best friend's sister, and nothing more."
He paused before continuing.
"Indeed, if I have ever encouraged her hopes, it has been entirely without intention. I have never courted her, never sought her affection, and never given her reason to believe that I returned hers. Whatever expectations she may have formed were of her own making."
Elizabeth looked into his eyes. She found truth there, and distress as well. He was suffering too. She blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. "So, you have never kissed her?"
"Kissed her?" He looked horrified. "No indeed. Never. I find the very notion appalling. When you come to know her better, you will understand why she has not yet attracted a husband. She is a very difficult woman, Elizabeth. I concede she is beautiful, with her fine figure and striking red hair, but her character leaves much to be desired."
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. He thinks her figure is fine and her hair striking…
