Chapter 3 #2
“Mr. Darcy,” she intoned, closing the gap between them as her hands came to rest on her hips, “I had hoped Charlotte correct this morning and that all I surmised of your character was merely a rare miscalculation on my part, but it seems that hope was mislaid. Are you to tell me then, sir, that I am somehow not alone in being ‘not handsome enough to tempt you,’ for it would appear that all it takes is for a young lady to be from the country to hold loathsome features–though one might have thought the candlelight would have favoured me somewhat. No, it would seem that a man of your character, who thinks every woman on earth somehow wishes to be bound to him, is all that I thought and indeed, worse.”
Mouth agape, Darcy sought to process the words of the fiery woman before him.
She had heard him at the assembly, that much was certain.
But the rest? Her vitriol seemed greater than an insult to her person, and her words were…
infuriating! Vain, pompous, surely she thought him all that, and worse still, ungentlemanly, for that is what she had implied.
She, with her embarrassing connections and a pauper’s fortune.
To think he had been prepared to offer her friendship; and she, who, with her mother, had been hoping to catch him as a husband!
He had been a fool.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he fumed, arms firm at his side as he looked down upon her.
“Whatever insult I gave at the assembly may not have been either true or kind, yet it is hardly consequential, save that your pride was hurt. For that, I do apologize, though only just, for after you and your mother decided to seek a compromise or to capture me as a match, your indignation is preposterous. Indeed, it does nothing but confirm my words and limit yours.”
“Marriage?” she scoffed, her face a cruel mix of laughter and scorn.
“You are much to be pitied if you thought for one moment I, or even my mother, had hopes regarding you. No. After your insulting words last evening, which I assure you my family is fully aware of, that you were even allowed into our home was a courtesy to your friend. You are a man for pity, I fear, for to you the world is a place I cannot even begin to imagine–one where you think everyone is out for your fortune, one where you think everyone is beneath you, and one where, I fear, you may find yourself one day alone. Good day, Mr. Darcy.”
Tied by his own shock to where he stood, Darcy watched as Miss Elizabeth Bennet made her way toward Meryton’s edge, her words racing through his mind.
He had assumed she had designs on him given the artful way in which she had sent her sisters away, but had there been another reason for her actions?
He may never know for certain, yet her words in connection to him seemed in all ways sincere.
Looking back over the minutes spent within Longourn’s walls, the truth of her words landed in full force.
The way in which they had turned to Bingley first. The way in which Bingley had been placed nearer Mrs. Bennet.
The offhanded way in which Mrs. Bennet pressed not only him but ALL of her daughters to go for a walk, save one.
Surely, if he had been the target of Mrs. Bennet’s matchmaking, she would have sent one daughter at most with him and Miss Elizabeth.
And Miss Elizabeth would not have suggested he go his own way.
No. He had misread the entire situation, insulted Miss Elizabeth not only at the assembly, but this very day… and had shown himself a fool. Prideful and rather vain at that.
Would the tale spread about Meryton? he wondered for half a moment before shaking his head.
That was not the correct question, instead it ought to be, what might he do to apologize to Miss Elizabeth?
If his reputation in Meryton or even beyond became tainted because of his pride, that was his own folly, but this.
This mistake he had made. The pain it had caused, that he could at least attempt to see right. Though how, only God knew.
∞∞∞
Returning to Netherfield without so much as entering the doors of Longbourn to tell anyone, Darcy made his way to the library, one of the few places he might enjoy enough solitude to consider all that had occurred.
An apology would be required, he had behaved abominably, but how did one find the proper words?
And how might she react to them even if he found them?
Muscles tensing as the inevitable humiliation passed through his mind, Darcy pressed on in spite of it.
Flawed as he was, Darcys never shied away from their duty, and his was to make amends.
“Hmm,” Darcy hummed as he considered what he might say if she were there.
“Miss Elizabeth… it would seem I may have been in error when I said you were not handsome enough to tempt me. You are! Yes, quite handsome, particularly your eyes–they tell of your wit, kindness, even the way you find amusement in the unspoken. Umm. That is to say…” sighing he leaned against a nearby bookshelf.
“Too? Simply too much. I need to apologize for being in bad humour, tell her she is actually a handsome woman–without going into detail–and admit I was wrong in my assumptions regarding her and her mother. Yes?”
“That may well do sir,” the voice of the butler, Mr. Innings remarked, Darcy’s heart jumping to his throat as he turned toward the man. “In the meantime, your post has arrived.”
“Thank you, Mr. Innings,” Darcy hurried as he accepted two letters from the proffered tray.
Dipping his head, Mr. Innings allowed a small smile to form as he turned, Darcy’s face burning as he watched the man depart.
Hertfordshire hoped to see him die of embarrassment it would seem.
Ripping open the first letter addressed in the hand of his aunt, Lady Eloise, Darcy prepared to lose himself in the fine handwriting; a welcome distraction.
Dear Fitzwilliam,
Your uncle and I are worried about your cousin Richard.
His regiment has been in London these past two weeks, and he has been staying with us as usual, but something is wrong.
He has not returned here for a week, and, worse still, he has not been seen by his regiment!
Not one of his men has seen him, nor any of his friends that we know to contact.
I know there are a few he has chosen not to confide in us about for fear we would worry, though he may have to you given how close you are.
Still, I fear even they would not have seen him if his own regiment has not; he has never been one to shirk his duty, he adores his work and takes pride in his men, and his superiors know this and are as concerned as we if I read them well enough.
Please, if you hear anything or can in any way help in finding him, we will be forever grateful!
With all my love,
Aunt Eloise
“Fitz. Missing?” Darcy breathed, his mind racing to any possible place his cousin might be, only to return again and again to the truth–his cousin would not desert his men, not without leave or a fight.
Gaze drifting to the unfamiliar hand of the other letter, he set his aunt’s missive down. He had let his steward and family know of his whereabouts, but no one else. Gulping as he ripped back the unadorned seal, his eyes raced over the contents.
Kidnapped.
Fitz had been kidnapped.