Chapter 16 #3
Elizabeth’s smile widened. “And you do nothing to discourage the impression?”
“Very little, I am afraid.”
They walked a few steps before he continued.
“My family name, my estate, my fortune – they are all known before I enter the room. Many people come already determined to like me, or to dislike me, without the inconvenience of discovering which I deserve.”
Elizabeth considered this. “That sounds rather uncomfortable.”
“It is tiresome,” Darcy admitted. “Particularly when I am expected to dance with ladies whose interest lies more in the gentleman than in the dance. Tales are then created very quickly.”
Elizabeth considered this. It was true. She knew about his circumstances before they were introduced.
“You are right. Our experiences are not the same.
Yet my experience that evening was similarly uncomfortable.
To hear a gentleman like yourself declaring me not handsome enough for a dance was not pleasant, Mr. Darcy.
Could you not just simply tell your friend you were uncomfortable?
“Yes, that would have been the right thing to do. However, that would also have meant admitting a weakness.”
“Oh, you have just admitted it to me.”
“Before you, I do not mind so much.”
“Still, you must forgive me if I find your present compliments somewhat difficult to credit after all that.”
Darcy was silent first. Then he said calmly, “If you doubt my sincerity, Miss Elizabeth, you may consult Miss Bingley.”
Elizabeth blinked. “Miss Bingley?”
“Yes.” His expression remained perfectly composed, though there was a quiet amusement in his eyes. “In an unguarded moment, I once confessed to her that I admired your fine eyes.”
Elizabeth stared at him. “You said that to Miss Bingley?”
“I did.”
“And when was this astonishing confession made?”
Darcy answered without hesitation. “At Lucas Lodge.”
Elizabeth stopped walking. “At Lucas Lodge?”
“Yes.”
For some moments, she said nothing. Lucas Lodge. That had been at the very beginning of their acquaintance – when she had scarcely been able to tolerate his company and had taken particular pleasure in laughing at him whenever the opportunity presented itself.
“You mean,” she said slowly, “that you admired me even then?”
“Yes.”
Elizabeth felt an unexpected warmth rise to her cheeks. “I had not imagined,” she said after a moment, “that I had made such an early impression.”
Darcy’s expression softened. “You did. I must confess your stay at Netherfield was not easy for me.”
Elizabeth turned her face slightly away, pretending a sudden interest in the garden wall. It was a most disconcerting discovery.
All this time, she had believed that if his opinion of her had improved, it must be a very recent change. Yet now it seemed that even while she had been laughing at him, he had already begun to admire her.
When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “You see, Mr. Darcy, this information alters several of my previous conclusions.”
“I hope it improves them.”
Elizabeth glanced at him again. “It certainly complicates them.”
Darcy appeared perfectly satisfied with that answer.
He was silent for a moment, as though considering how best to continue. “I should perhaps explain something further, Miss Elizabeth.”
She looked at him again.
“When I first came to Hertfordshire,” he said slowly, “I did not expect to form any particular attachment here.”
Elizabeth listened without interrupting.
“My visits to the neighbourhood were meant to be temporary. I had business with Mr. Bingley, and some affairs of my own to settle. Society in a country neighbourhood was not among my anticipated concerns.”
Elizabeth allowed herself the faintest smile. “I imagine it was not.”
Darcy continued with calm seriousness. “I expected to return to my usual life, where certain expectations – of family, of position, of society – guide most decisions.”
Elizabeth understood him very well. “You mean,” she said quietly, “that gentlemen in your situation are not entirely free in such matters.”
“That is often the case.”
They walked a few steps along the wall.
Darcy then added, more deliberately, “I did not suppose that I should meet a lady here who would cause me to reconsider those expectations.”
Elizabeth felt again that peculiar warmth in her cheeks. “And yet you claim that I have done so.”
“I do more than claim it.” He met her gaze. “I know it.”
For a moment Elizabeth could not answer.
Darcy continued. “I do not pretend that the difference in our situations does not exist. It would be foolish to ignore it.”
Elizabeth appreciated the honesty.
“But I have come to believe that character, understanding, and mutual respect are of greater consequence than such considerations.”
Elizabeth looked down at the path. “You speak very reasonably, Mr. Darcy.”
“I hope to speak truthfully.”
He paused, then said with quiet firmness, “For that reason, I asked your father’s permission.”
Elizabeth’s heart began to beat faster again.
Darcy continued, “I do not ask for an answer now. Indeed, I should think very poorly of myself if I expected one. I would by no means wish to follow in Mr. Collins’s footsteps.”
Elizabeth laughed softly at that, though the sound faded almost as soon as it had begun.
“But, my intentions are honourable.”
She looked away before speaking again. “I would not have it any other way. Thank you. You asked me yesterday,” she said quietly, “what I dream of.” She turned back to him.
Darcy regarded her with attentive interest.
“Simply put,” she continued, “I dream of love. I have not yet experienced it, but that is what I hope for. Affection… friendship… something that grows naturally between two people.”
Darcy did not answer immediately. He only looked at her.
Those fine eyes, which he had once admired almost in spite of himself, now held his full attention. There was nothing playful in them now, only sincerity.
And something in him shifted.
Until that moment, he had spoken with composure, with the careful self-command that had guided him through the entire conversation. But Elizabeth’s quiet declaration stirred a deeper feeling than he had intended to reveal.
“Yes,” he said at last, more softly. “That is what I want as well.” He paused, choosing his words. “I would not ask you for anything less.”
Elizabeth held his gaze.
“With time,” he continued, “I should hope that we might discover whether such an understanding could exist between us.” His expression softened slightly. “For my own part, Miss Elizabeth, I cannot pretend indifference. Your company has become… very important to me.”
Elizabeth felt her breath catch unexpectedly.
Darcy added, with quiet sincerity, “I admire you greatly.”
For a moment Elizabeth could not speak.
No one had ever addressed her with such seriousness before. Compliments she had received in plenty – playful, careless, or exaggerated – but never one delivered with such quiet conviction.
She looked down at her hands. When she spoke, her voice was softer than before. “And you believe I might learn to return that admiration?”
“I hope so.”
Elizabeth lifted her eyes again.
There was no impatience in his expression, no attempt to persuade her further. He waited simply and calmly, as though her answer – whatever it might be – would be accepted.
That steadiness affected her more than any declaration could have done.
“At present,” she said slowly, “I cannot promise you what you ask.”
Darcy inclined his head slightly. “I did not expect you to.”
“But,” she continued, “I should not wish you to abandon the attempt.”
Something in his expression changed – not triumph, but unmistakable relief. “You mean,” he said carefully, “that you would permit me to court you.”
Elizabeth felt the warmth return to her cheeks. “Yes.”
Darcy was silent for a moment, as though absorbing the answer. Then he said quietly, “Thank you.”
Elizabeth attempted to smile.
“Charlotte believes happiness in marriage is very much a matter of chance. I should like to prove her wrong.”
At that moment, a cool drop of rain struck the gravel path between them.
Elizabeth looked up.
Another followed.
“I believe the weather has decided for us,” she said.
Darcy glanced toward the house. “So it has.”
Within seconds the light rain began to fall in earnest.
Elizabeth gathered her cloak instinctively. “We had better return before my mother believes you have carried me off entirely.”
Darcy allowed himself a rare laugh.
“That would certainly produce a memorable morning at Longbourn.”
They turned together toward the house, quickening their steps as the rain began properly at last. And though neither spoke as they hurried along the garden path, their eyes met, and they both smiled.
Darcy spoke before he opened the door.
“Then let us prove her wrong together.”