Page 27 of Mr Darcy’s Quizzing Glass

She lifted an eyebrow. “My sister Jane, who is as perfect as a person can be, sees everyone as agreeable. I am known for the perverse delight I take in teasing and arguing with others—whether or not I make it known to them.”

“Yes, you are accomplished in finding amusement in the words and actions of others, but I pray you do not find too much fault with me.” His eyes moved away from her, and she felt an irrational need to shake him.

“I find you puzzling,” she replied. “A man who has been blessed with wealth, education, and privilege should be capable of looking upon others fairly, without need for artifice, and determining their decency and worth as they do him.”

Elizabeth heard him inhale sharply, but he said nothing in reply. Impatient with his taciturnity, she nearly stamped her foot. “I cannot help but wonder, do you always prefer to judge character through a glass lens, sir, rather than the ordinary way—by conversation?”

“I do not like performing to strangers.”

“Ah, you prefer to judge people properly at first, saving yourself the trouble and time of ever having to revise your opinion. It is admirably efficient.”

“Why should I not utilise a device which allows me to ascertain, without damage to myself or others, the quality of a man’s character or a lady’s goodness?”

“You might learn the same by conversation!”

“Might I? Hours and weeks in company, and a friendship established, only to learn a man is a reprobate or a lady a liar?”

Elizabeth startled, despite understanding the insult was not meant for her. “I do not envy your society.”

“Pardon me, I speak too harshly of others.” He winced and shook his head. “I have not the ease of those such as you and Bingley in conversing with new acquaintances and understanding the tone of conversations. Many men in town rely on a wife or sister to assist them at balls and parties, but I have neither a wife nor a sister of an age to be out in society.”

A faint flush touched Mr Darcy’s cheek, and had she not remained wary of the quizzing glass and his purpose in using it, she would admit it was a rather becoming sight. Before she could respond, he continued his defence.

“I assure you, madam, it is not my habit to use the glass to judge others for sport. It requires more effort than some men deserve to find that glimmer of goodness or common interest.”

My acquaintance with you has certainly taken effort, she thought with some exasperation. “Perhaps you should find new company to keep rather than censuring others through a glass lens.”

“Although I would wish not to be hasty in censuring anyone, I am constantly approached with schemes for investments or to meet an eligible young lady, and if I choose to use a device that makes it easier for me to determine the worth of my time and of another’s character, then I shall.”

“And you do not see that reliance as weakness in your own character?”

TWENTY

“And you do not see that reliance as weakness in your own character?”

It was, in fact, his greatest fear.

How had she pounced upon that anxiety with such unerring accuracy? He had not expected such antagonism, and had he not been both exhausted and disappointed, Darcy would have responded with more grace and better explained what the glass had revealed to him. He could not speak here, in a desolate if public park, on Wickham and the by-blows his estate had placed or supported, or on the high-born gentlemen he knew who cavorted at gaming hells or ran through their inheritance or neglected their wives—and sometimes all three. He could not tell scandalous tales to a lady, most certainly not to Elizabeth Bennet, who stood, expectant for his next words, her eyes ablaze and colour high, her glow brighter than the afternoon sun. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

Darcy moved a few steps off the path, behind a park bench, where he could no longer smell her perfume or be as tempted to reach for her hand but could fully look upon her countenance. Redirecting his thoughts to their proper place, he said, “I was twenty-two, learning how to manage Pemberley and our family fortunes and guardian to my young sister. Daunting as my responsibilities were, I was glad to rely on whatever had aided my father to make decisions in my family’s best interest and have since carried it everywhere. I try to use it judiciously, however.”

“Clearly, you have been a great success at all of it,” Elizabeth replied with an enigmatic smile. “After all that was said of you, and of your bespoke quizzing glass, by the Bingleys, I was surprised not to see you carry it in Meryton.”

Here, Darcy thought, he could show himself to advantage. “I felt I would have no need of it and left it in town.”

“But you said you carry it everywhere. Did you suppose the simple people of Hertfordshire could afford you a respite from probing the motives and character of society?”

“You can hardly believe that,” he said, “as you are a lady of great wit and intelligence.”

She looked at him in amazement. Did his compliment, a mere statement of fact, surprise her?

“As you said, Mr Darcy, without a wife or sister, you use the quizzing glass to sharpen your discernment in business and society where the highest of the ton wish for your company.”

“Or my fortune,” he cut in, perhaps a little too sharply. “I rely on my wits and understanding as much as I am able, but unlike those used to country living, I am forever pursued for my opinion, my investment, my interest in an eligible daughter or niece.”

Her eyes flashed. “Poor Mr Darcy, hounded and hunted.”

Her words sparked a heated longing within him; seeing her flushed face lit with passionate anger, he felt almost dizzy with it. “You have no idea, Miss Elizabeth.”