Page 30 of Yearning

“Indeed,” said Mr. Darcy.

And then he said nothing else, and she felt as if she should likely say something, so she sorted through what she could and came out with, “I hope your sister is in good health.”

“Oh, yes,” said Mr. Darcy. “She had her first Season this year, and she is still in London. Your sisters? Are they all well?”

“Quite,” said Elizabeth. “Well, Jane has her little boy now.”

“Right,” said Mr. Darcy. “I heard.”

“And even Kitty is engaged to be married now.”

“Oh, Mary is married?”

She laughed. “Do not act so surprised.”

“I did not mean…” He laughed softly, looking away. “My apologies.”

Now, she was smiling. “What brings you here, Mr. Darcy, out to a country gathering where you seem to have such trouble navigating nearly anywhere?” She had noticed that he could move his wheeled chair himself, but that he had difficulty out here on the grass.

“Ah, you see through me.”

“What?” she said, not having expected him to say that.

“Obviously, I came to see you.”

She took a step back, and a feeling washed through her, and she didn’t recognize it for several seconds, because it was so strong and so intense, and she was not used to feeling it.

It was rage.

She worked to breathe, turning away from him, clenching and unclenching her fists.

“You did not suspect?” he said. “I thought that was why you were saying I was having so much trouble navigating things. I thought you could tell that it was ludicrous for me to have come.”

“I thought you would say that you were weathering the difficulty just fine, that you had been cooped up for too long, that you wanted a bit of country air,” she said.

“Well, if I wanted some country air, I could have gone to my own country house.”

She clenched her fists again. She still wasn’t looking at him. “How dare you say that to me?”

“Apologies,” he said.

“You are the one who insisted that I break with you.”

“No, I am not…” He sighed. “I’m not pursuing you or something of that nature, Elizabeth.”

And the rage deflated, replaced by some other feeling. An ache, a longing. But that was why she had left in the end. He did not desire her. She let out a noisy huff of air, released her fists, and turned back to look at him. “Of course you’re not pursuing me.”

“You are a married woman, after all,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “I am not to be pursued.”

“No, indeed.”

“So, then, why did you wish to see me?” She leveled her gaze at him. “Perhaps you wished to apologize for everything you put me through back then?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I am sorry, of course. I really was not at my best during that time.”

She felt ashamed of herself. “No, obviously, it’s awful for me to blame you for anything. You were in a great deal of pain and dealing with the awful blow of the knowledge of it and I remember what you said about the opium dreams… Perhaps I owe you an apology, sir. Perhaps I was not patient enough with you.”