When Darcy spoke again, the amusement had not quite left his voice. "I would only urge caution. You are quick to admire, Bingley, and quicker still to believe that admiration returned. You have often found angels where other men might have been content to discover merely amiable women.”
"That is a cruel description of my past attachments.”
"It is an accurate one.”
"It is accurate only if stated by a man determined to make me appear foolish. Miss Fortescue was very beautiful.”
"And laughed like a badly tuned instrument.”
"I did not know that at first.”
"You might have discovered it sooner had you spoken to her on any subject other than the weather.”
"I was young.”
"I have no wish to see you hurt.”
Elizabeth felt her hand loosen on the doorframe. She had not expected that from him. Or rather she had expected, perhaps, that Mr Darcy was attached to his friend, but not that he would express it so simply.
"I know,” Bingley said, more softly. "And I thank you for it, though it makes you excessively troublesome. But I am not a boy, Darcy. I do not believe every pretty woman an angel merely because she smiles at me. Miss Bennet does not flatter. She does not contrive. If she is pleased, it is because she is pleased. If she listens, it is because she is kind enough to be interested, or to make one feel one has not been entirely ridiculous. I may be hasty, but I am not blind.”
"No,” said Darcy after a pause. "You are not blind.”
"And you think she likes me?”
There was such eagerness in the question that Elizabeth’s heart gave a small, fond twist.
"I think,” Darcy replied, "that Miss Bennet distinguishes you from other men.”
Bingley gave a sound of such satisfaction that Elizabeth almost laughed aloud.
"Distinguishes me! Good God, Darcy, from you that is a sonnet. I shall preserve the phrase for all my days. I may have it printed on a card to keep by my heart.”
"I beg you will not.”
"No, I shall merely repeat it to myself whenever my spirits require support. Miss Bennet distinguishes me from other men. Upon my word, I feel equal to anything.”
"Then let that be sufficient for the present.”
"For the present, yes. I am not such a fool as to offer myself tomorrow.”
"I am relieved to hear it.”
"I might wait until Friday.”
"Bingley,” said Mr Darcy, in such a way that Elizabeth suspected he was shaking his head.
There was a pause, followed by the faint scrape of china.
Then Bingley spoke again, with a change in his tone. "And what of you?”
Darcy did not answer.
"I have been very patient,” Bingley continued, "and have spoken of my own follies at length, partly because they interest me exceedingly, and partly because you have the look of a man who prefers any subject to himself. But I am not so absorbed in Miss Bennet as to have lost all power of observation.”
"I have no idea what you mean.”
"My dear Darcy, that has never answered with me and I wonder you still attempt it. I mean Miss Elizabeth.”
