Chapter 9
Darcy was burning in humiliation as he left Elizabeth's presence that morning. He rushed over to Bingley and Jane, said his goodbye, and departed. He got into his carriage quickly and didn't even breathe as it pulled away. His heart was still pounding from having been reminded so acutely of what occurred last April. And to have Elizabeth be the one to remind him of it! It was unbearable.
He didn't know what she had been trying to say. What could she possibly have to say to him?
For a moment, he wondered if he overreacted. What if she was not trying to address what happened in April at all—had she learned the truth about Wickham's marriage to Miss Lydia? Mrs. Wickham , he corrected in his mind. Perhaps Elizabeth was trying to awkwardly express her gratitude—perhaps she somehow discovered his involvement (he uttered a slight curse under his breath at Bingley's inability to keep quiet), and though she knew he intended to not receive credit, she still felt compelled to thank him. Perhaps she even felt sorry for him, because she refused him, and it turned out he was not as bad as Wickham made him to be—whether or not she read his letter, it was clear that Wickham turned out to be the dishonorable one, not Darcy.
So yes, that must have been it. She was only trying to express gratitude toward him over something she knew he wanted kept a secret.
Darcy cursed aloud and shook his head. Why did he have to assume the worst? Why did Elizabeth's presence have such a way of clouding his mind and making him unable to see reason?
He stared miserably out the carriage window, drops of rain beginning to splatter upon the pane.