Chapter Three #5
“Ah, yes.” He nodded. Then, seeming to drop that thread entirely, he asked, “Would you allow me to call a carriage to take you to Barlow Hall?”
“That is not necessary, sir. I am quite capable of making my own way.”
“It is nearly three miles,” he told her, haughtiness creeping into his voice. “It is almost dusk. I am afraid I must insist. If you will not consent to a carriage, allow me to escort you.”
Nothing calculated to do so could have more effectively and fully broken the spell Mr. Darcy had cast over her since she first saw him.
“If you feel you must, go ahead and insist. However, I am under no obligation to you. I appreciate your offer and concern, but I will be on my way presently.” She dropped another curtsy and then turned to Georgiana.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Darcy, and I hope we will see one another again soon.” She glanced at the tall man who stood unmoving beside her and added, “If your brother does not find that objectionable.”
“As you have just indicated no concern at all for my will or opinion, I wonder at your qualifying the possibility of pursuing a friendship with my sister based upon my approbation,” he said, his tone harsh.
Ready to explain how little she did in fact care for his opinions, Elizabeth looked up at him once again.
His mouth was set in a hard line, but his eyes were telling a different story.
They sparkled with barely suppressed mischief.
Elizabeth’s heart stuttered. Perhaps the spell was not entirely broken.
Thanks to her father, Elizabeth was quite used to teasing.
She was fairly certain this was teasing, and nothing could have put her more at ease with this gentleman who was clearly much older, much wealthier and much more worldly.
She could not be his equal in most ways, she knew, but this, this was where she already excelled.
“You mistake me, sir,” she informed him.
“I am concerned for you. It is your well-being I am consulting when I refuse your kind offer.” She could not resist emphasizing this not-quite-accurate word.
”It is clear from only a brief observation that you would not be able to keep up with me, and I would not want for you to feel badly about that. ”
The brief chuckle and shake of his head made Mr. Darcy even more handsome and resulted in a wayward curl planting itself on his forehead. Before Elizabeth could get too distracted by this, he spoke again.
“I must apologise then for so misconstruing your motives. I have done you great wrong. Please allow me to make amends by calling a carriage to take you home.”
Georgiana was looking between them, her head going from one to the other as they spoke, as if watching a very interesting tennis match where she was not entirely certain of the rules.
“If you really want to make amends, you can do so by forgoing the carriage, blessing my friendship with your sister and saying farewell.”
“That seems reasonable,” he responded, and Elizabeth was almost disappointed their banter would come to such a quick end. But having gotten her way, she wasn’t too upset.
“What if instead of insisting I humbly request you allow my escort?”
Georgiana, who had continued to observe the conversation without daring to interject, did so now. “Oh, yes, Miss Bennet, please do allow William to attend you. I would not wish to walk so far alone so close to nightfall.”
“This aversion to long solo walks feels new, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth observed.
Georgiana had been ready to walk all the way to her uncle’s estate, one county over, just an hour ago.
“That is true,” Georgiana admitted. “But you talked me out of it, and I am so glad you did. It would have been terrible to walk all that way alone. Please let William walk you.”
Elizabeth wanted to think it was her new friend’s concern that caused her to accept Mr. Darcy’s offer, and in truth, that was weighed in the balance. However, it was mostly the prospect of nearly an hour, more if she walked slowly, in Mr. Darcy’s company that truly decided her.
“Very well, Miss Darcy, to ease your worry, I will allow your brother to escort me at least part of the way to Barlow Hall,” she said, as if she were a queen bestowing a great favour on a lowly subject.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet,” Georgiana exclaimed, smiling brightly. “I hope we will meet again soon.”
“Georgiana, go inside directly. We will finish our conversation when I return,”
Though his tone sounded overly serious to Elizabeth, his sister did not seem bothered. She merely nodded her acquiescence and skipped off towards the house.
“Miss Bennet.” Mr. Darcy swept his arm towards the path and Elizabeth stepped forwards. A walk with Mr. Darcy— her insides swirled with hope and dread as he fell into step beside her.
When they had reached a bend in the path that took them out of view of the Pemberley garden where Georgiana had stopped and now stood watching them go, Mr. Darcy spoke.
“Why was my sister intent on going to my uncle’s home alone and on foot this afternoon?”
In her nervousness and excitement at the prospect of being in his company, alone in his company, Elizabeth nearly forgot what had brought them together in the first place. She did not want to betray her new friend’s confidences, but she was also loath to simply deny Mr. Darcy any sort of answer.
“She did not explain it to you?”
“No,” he replied, his tone now devoid of any softness. “She said nothing of import before she dragged me to you.”
Perhaps it was how put out he sounded at the prospect of meeting her or his dismissal of Miss Darcy’s words, or perhaps it was the fact that she had not eaten in quite some time that led Elizabeth to respond thusly:
“Well, I doubt then, sir,” she emphasised the address with false sincerity, “that anything I would say could be of sufficient import to warrant your attention. In light of this, might I suggest we continue on in silence, or if you’d prefer, you may turn back now.”
“I will do no such thing, and it is unreasonable to refuse to answer my questions. Miss Darcy is my sister and my responsibility; you have known her for less than an hour. I must be acquainted with all her concerns.”
“And yet you are not acquainted with this one,” she responded, picking up her pace. It did no good, of course; his legs were nearly twice as long as hers and she would not out-walk him.
“Which is why I asked you to tell me,” he responded with obvious impatience. “I cannot understand your unwillingness.”
“You cannot understand my unwillingness to reveal things told to me in confidence? It is a pity you, in your advanced years, have not known the joy of friends who would keep your secrets. I feel sorry for you.”
“Miss Bennet, I must insist.” He stopped walking and gently tugged at her elbow so that she had to do likewise.
“Insisting again, Mr. Darcy?”
Although she stood facing him, Elizabeth did not look him in the eye. She was afraid she would lose her resolve if she did so—he really was too handsome. It was an unfair advantage.
“You should remember your insisting has no effect on me. You may be used to young women bending to your will, but I will not be moved. Unlike Miss Devon, obtaining your good opinion is not my primary goal.”
“Miss Devon?” he replied, clearly confused.
Elizabeth cursed her temper. It so often led her to do and say things she later regretted.
“Never mind, I should not have said that. Leave it be,” she huffed, turning to resume their journey.
“Miss Bennet.” The soft, almost apologetic way he said her name caused Elizabeth to stop, though she did not turn back to him. Instead, he came to stand in front of her.
“I apologise for my manner of address. I understand I can be somewhat ... “
“Direct.” and “Rude,” they said at the same time.
“Rude?” he questioned with marked incredulity.
He sounded so genuinely perplexed that Elizabeth softened a little. That, combined with her determination not to be ruled by her temper, had her conceding where she might otherwise have her opposition. She still felt she was right. He had been rude, but perhaps she could find a compromise.
“Fine, direct then.” She nodded and waved her hand for him to continue. “Please proceed with your apology.”
“I was done.”
“I am not surprised. You are not very good at it.” She resumed walking, and he fell into step beside her.
“At what?”
“Apologizing,” she told him, expending considerable effort to hold onto her temper, which was rising again.
He was nearly as exasperating as he was handsome. Nearly.
“I have never considered apologies a skill one could excel at,” he said, sounding genuinely curious.
“That is peculiar,” she answered. “It seems obvious that, like most things, one can do it well or not well. In my limited experience with your ability, you fall into the latter category.”
“Even if I accept your premise that apologies are a skill to be mastered, I fail to see how mine did not meet the standard. I said the words. What more is required?”
“I am glad you asked,” she answered primly. “An apology must be more than words.”
“You require a gift, perhaps?” he accused.
“No, of course not,” she laughed. “Perhaps in some circumstances an apology should be accompanied by a gift, but certainly not here.”
“An act of penance, then?” He seemed amused now. He was teasing her, and Elizabeth could not help but be charmed by it. She pretended to consider his suggestion.
“Again, that might be appropriate in other situations, but not here.”
“Shall I keep guessing, or would you like to enlighten me?”
“I should have thought it would be obvious to one as old and wise as you.”
“You seem overly considered with my age. I assure you I have not quite entered my dotage. The wisdom I will grant you.”
“Of course you will.” Elizabeth giggled, but checked herself. She did not want to sound like a little girl.
“However, you still have not educated me with regard to the deficiency in my apology to you. I am eager to improve myself.”