Page 7 of Love Drunk for Mr Darcy

Anne’s expression turned almost apologetic. "You have spent a great deal of time walking near Hunsford since she arrived, and whenever Miss Elizabeth enters a room, you stare at her very markedly, Darcy. It was not difficult to interpret which way your thoughts inclined."

Fitzwilliam gave a soft snort. "You look at her like a man in the desert might regard an oasis. Really Darcy, did you think no one would notice?"

Darcy ignored him. "I had not realised my behaviour was so obvious."

"It was not obvious to Mama," Anne said. "But then she believes she can shape the world to her liking, so why would she trouble herself to take notice of other people and their feelings?"

Darcy smiled ruefully before, without warning, the misery of the afternoon returned with full force. He rose from the bed and crossed towards the window, though the view offered little comfort. Somewhere beyond the trees stood the parsonage and the woman who now despised him.

"I went to see Miss Bennet," he said at last. "I believed there was an understanding between us."

Behind him, Fitzwilliam shifted in his chair. "What sort of understanding?"

Darcy kept his gaze fixed upon the grounds below. There was no dignified way to say it, and delaying the admission would not make it less humiliating. "I asked her to marry me."

For once, Fitzwilliam had no immediate reply. Anne drew in a small breath, and when Darcy finally turned back towards them, both cousins were staring at him.

"And she refused you," Anne said softly.

Darcy gave a short, bitter laugh. "She did more than refuse me. She informed me that I was arrogant, ungentlemanly and without any regard for the feelings of others. She also made it clear that I was the last man in the world she could ever be persuaded to marry. She was very specific on that final point."

Fitzwilliam pressed his lips together, though the effort did little to hide his amusement. "I confess, cousin, when you decide to fail at something, you do it with admirable thoroughness."

Anne shot him a reproachful look before turning back to Darcy, her expression softening. "I am sorry. Truly. Whatever passed between you, that must have been very painful to hear." She hesitated, studying his face. "But is all hope lost? People say things in anger that they may not entirely mean once they have had time to reflect."

"In this instance, I believe Miss Bennet meant every word. I laid out all the deficiencies of her family and connections, explained at some length how hard I had fought against loving her and then expected her to feel honoured that I was willing to overlook almost everything about her and degrade myself to the match."

Fitzwilliam’s amusement faded a little. "You said all that to the woman you hoped to win? Darcy, you are a dolt. No, that is too small a word, a blundering buffoon perhaps."

"I am keenly aware, cousin. What’s more, when she accused me of separating Bingley from her sister, I admitted it."

Anne’s brows drew together. "You purposely separated them?"

"I believed Miss Jane Bennet did not return his affection. Her manner was composed, while Bingley was so plainly in love that he was blind to any reasonable objections about her family. I truly thought she was only showing interest because her terrifying mother compelled her to. Although it now appears I had the wrong of it. I persuaded him that she was indifferent and encouraged him to remain in London."

"And you told her this as part of your proposal?" Fitzwilliam asked, letting out a long low whistle.

Darcy sighed. He supposed he might as well lay it all out. "Not during it. She raised the matter after refusing me, and I defended what I had done. I told her I believed I had saved Bingley from an imprudent marriage and congratulated myself upon the success of it."

Fitzwilliam stared at him for a moment before rubbing one hand over his mouth. "Darcy, I am beginning to think the last-man-in-the-world remark was rather generous of her."

Darcy gave him a dark look, but could not disagree. "She also believes Wickham’s account of our history. By the time I attempted to explain myself, I was angry enough to speak with so little civility that she must think me a monster."

Anne’s face had grown increasingly dismayed. "Then perhaps you should stay away from the ball. I would hate to see her distressed, or you, cousin."

"Thank you," Darcy said, and meant it most sincerely.

Fitzwilliam leaned back in his chair and considered him. "On the contrary, I think the ball offers possibilities. You are a handsome enough brute, and a few fences might be mended during a country dance. At the very least, you could prove yourself capable of remaining in her company for half an hour without insulting her family or proposing marriage."

"I have already demonstrated that I cannot."

"Then you have nowhere to go but upwards."

Anne tried to hide a smile and failed. "Richard, I do not think Miss Elizabeth will be won over merely because Darcy manages to behave himself for the length of one dance. She likely won’t even agree to dance with him."

"No, but she may revise her opinion of him from monster to tolerable. These things must be approached in stages."

Darcy shook his head. "Miss Bennet has no desire to revise her opinion of me. The kindest thing I can do is give her the truth about Wickham and then remove myself from Kent before I cause her any further distress."