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“Mr. Darcy, I’m afraid I do not have the pleasure of understanding you. What awkward position have you put me in, and why do you think I do not want to be here?”
He blinked at me for a moment. “Well, I thought that by singling you out as I have done it might have created expectations. With your aunt, I mean.”
I nodded. “I am sure you have, but she is no matchmaker. She will not make anything of it.”
His shoulders fell. “I see.”
I smiled and placed my hand on his arm. “Mr. Darcy, I am not unhappy to be here.”
He immediately brightened.
“I am confused by what you are about.”
“What do you mean?” His face fell again.
“In Hertfordshire, I got the impression that you found me beneath you.”
He looked uncomfortable.
“Is it knowing my aunt that has caused a change of heart? Or have I misunderstood the intent of this outing?”
“No, your aunt does not make a material difference, though the connection will likely be helpful to you.”
I raised a brow. No one would ever accuse Mr. Darcy of being overly diplomatic.
He sighed. “In Hertfordshire, I was drawn to you, as I am sure you noticed.”
I nodded.
“And I did not think the match was suitable, you are correct.”
It was surprisingly painful to hear it put so plainly.
“Forgive my bluntness,” he said gently.
“Go on,” I said. I walked ahead to the next exhibit so we would not look strange standing about in the middle of the room.
“But after speaking to my cousin, I realized I was overly concerned.”
“So you came to think the match was suitable?” Goodness, we were having a strange conversation!
“Yes. Certain elements may not be ideal—”
“My dowry and lack of notable connections,” I interrupted.
He cringed. “—but those things are not as important as character and temperament.”
I nodded, walking slowly through the museum. Thankfully, there were hardly any people about today. Though to be fair, there were few people in Town this time of year.
“Please say something,” he said, his voice strained.
“I am sorry. I did not realize you were done.” I stopped and looked up at him. “So now that you have decided my character outweighs my small dowry, what are you trying to say?”
He looked surprised by my directness. “I would like to get to know you better,” he said, obviously uncomfortable. “I would like to call on you, if it is agreeable to you.”
I had known this was what he was coming to, but hearing the words aloud still somewhat surprised me. I debated for a moment. I liked Mr. Darcy, but I could not pretend that his frank assessment of my circumstances was a little off-putting. I knew I was not being entirely fair; I had not wantedhimfor his lack of access to the ill and injured, so perhaps I had no right to be upset about fair and logical reasoning. Remembering what my aunt had said about character, I decided his honesty—though it was an unpleasant truth—was a mark in his favor.
“I think I would like that,” I said quietly.
