Page 24 of The Lost Prophecy

Elizabeth offered a warm smile. “His deep concern appears sincere.”

Mr Darcy sighed. “It is excessive, impractical, and entirely sincere.”

Elizabeth withdrew her hand when Behemoth attempted to investigate her sleeve. Mr Darcy steadied the animal, then stayed with her rather than mounting again. His posture had become formal, but not cold. He appeared to be preparing for an unpleasant duty, which made his next words still more unexpected.

“At the assembly, I spoke of you in a manner that was both unpardonable and untrue.”

Elizabeth did not rescue him from the silence that followed.

Mr Darcy maintained her gaze. “I offer no excuse for it. You had given me no cause for discourtesy, and I apologise.”

The simplicity of the apology disturbed her far more than a polished explanation would have done. She had expected pride to defend itself, perhaps by claiming that she had accidentally overheard a private conversation or misunderstood an indifferent remark. He did neither. She nodded slowly. “I accept your apology, Mr Darcy.”

He bowed deeply. “Thank you.”

Elizabeth offered a mischievous smile. “It would be ungracious to refuse after I have repeated the insult for the entertainment of half Hertfordshire.”

His mouth curved upwards. “Only half?”

Elizabeth laughed. “The remainder may hear it before Christmas.”

Mr Darcy sighed. “I shall prepare myself.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You might improve the story by behaving agreeably in the meantime. People enjoy a surprising conclusion.”

He held her gaze. “I had believed my apology a promising beginning.”

Elizabeth regarded him much more carefully. “A promising one, perhaps, although you must understand that it creates a difficulty.”

Mr Darcy frowned. “What difficulty?”

Elizabeth folded her hands. “I had formed a very negative opinion of you. It is inconvenient when the specific subject begins presenting contradictory evidence, Mr Darcy.”

“Your opinion was formed after one evening?”

Elizabeth smiled brightly. “You provided concentrated material. You must allow it.”

Behemoth moved between them and nudged Elizabeth’s shoulder, demanding the attention their conversation had withdrawn. Mr Darcy pulled him back and smirked. “You have won his approval far more rapidly than mine, Miss Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth patted the horse. “Your horse has superior judgement.”

Mr Darcy snorted. “He has bitten three grooms and eaten a felt hat so far.”

Elizabeth laughed again. “Then his judgement remains under review.”

Mr Darcy laughed, low and brief, and the sound altered him. For that moment, the severity disappeared, leaving a man far younger than his solemnity and considerably more dangerous to her peace of mind.

Elizabeth reminded herself that he did not eat, avoided mirrors, had the coldest hands she had ever touched, and employed a valet who pursued silverware through private corridors. One apology could not answer any of those questions.

Behemoth exhaled another white cloud, and Elizabeth’s own breath showed faintly between them.

Mr Darcy’s did not.

She noticed, stored the detail along with everything else, and stepped back to the house.

“I must abandon you and your behemoth of a horse, I am afraid. Jane will be expecting me.”

Mr Darcy inclined his head. “I hope she continues to recover.”

Elizabeth turned to the stone terrace, then glanced back. He stayed on the wet path, one gloved hand resting on Behemoth’s thick bridle while horse and master watched her departure.

Mr Darcy had become far less easily dismissed, which was incredibly inconsiderate of him.