CHAPTER 11 #3
She might have laughed aloud at the notion, and thought, briefly, how she should like to share the joke with her father, before recalling, with some regret, that she could share it with no one at all, least of all Mr. Darcy.
He sat patiently while she worked at the stubborn leather. After a full twenty minutes of tugging without success, her frustration got the better of her, and she drew a fortifying breath.
"This wretched knot will not give." She let the rest spill out with it. "And I am, besides, a kidnapped woman confined to a bedroom with no means of escape."
He exhaled. "That is a fair assessment."
"Fair, sir, it is not. Nothing about this situation is fair,” she replied, frustratingly lining her voice.
"Ah,” Darcy started, “Accurate, then."
She allowed a breath of her own. "Yes, accurate will do."
He gave a low chuckle. "You may leave off, Miss Elizabeth, if it will not budge."
"No, sir, if there is one thing to be said of me, it is that I am equal parts stubbornness and determination. I shall not leave off until I have succeeded."
His voice rose thoughtfully, "I have certainly had occasion to observe as much."
Elizabeth stopped tugging for a moment, and asked, "What do you mean by that?"
"Your stubbornness and determination," Darcy replied.
Still paused in her efforts, she asked, "And where, precisely, might you have observed such qualities in me, sir?"
"In the wood…” he said, before adding matter-of-factly, “And in a ballroom."
"I fail to see how. I was not stubborn in the wood, and I have treated you with nothing but civility at every ball we have both attended,” she replied, her voice growing louder.
He replied quickly in a hushed tone, "Hush, madam, your voice carries.”
Whatever truth there was in his correction, Elizabeth found it did not improve her temper. "Very well. I shall say nothing more."
He twisted about to face her, still wearing the ghost of a smile. "Miss Elizabeth, you were entirely stubborn in your opinion of women walking unaccompanied, and quite as determined not to dance with me."
Her eyes narrowed. "I was determined not to dance with you, sir, because you were determined first not to dance with me."
His surprise was evident. "When, madam, have I ever been determined against dancing with you?"
Elizabeth wore a frown, "Your very first evening in Meryton, sir. You told Mr. Bingley you had no wish to dance with a woman already slighted by other men, if you recall."
Darcy frowned in return, searching his memory. "Slighted by other men?"
She added seriously, "Yes. Mr. Bingley urged you to stand up with me, and you told him it would be a disgrace to do so."
"I never said disgrace," he looked affronted.
Elizabeth had a slight sarcasm in her voice, "Well, it sounded very like it, sir, from where I sat."
She saw Darcy’s jaw tighten, but his tone softened, and he regarded her with something gentler. "I am sorry you overheard a conversation never meant for your ears."
She replied, looking fiercely into his eyes and asking an angry sort of question, "You are sorry I heard it. You have not said you are sorry for having spoken it?"
Darcy shook his head. "That is not. I did not mean it so. I am sorry for the words themselves. They were never intended to wound you; I spoke only to be rid of Bingley's insistence. I promise you, I meant you no dishonour."
Her anger rose despite herself, and she narrowed her eyes before saying, "You are insufferable, Mr. Darcy."
He looked genuinely wounded, his head swinging back, as if she had attempted to hit him square in the jaw. "Insufferable?"
"Yes.” Elizabeth had sparks in her eyes. “You made me the excuse for your own poor manners toward a friend, spoke unkindly of a stranger rather than simply decline him. That is a poor defence for such conduct, sir."
"It was wrong of me, and I have said as much. Yes, I used you as my excuse, but can you not forgive it? I scarcely looked at you when I said it." Darcy replied, noticing how red Elizabeth’s cheeks were turning, but he was sure it wasn’t a blushing mark, but an angry-filled one.
This comment seemed to appease Elizabeth slightly, and she lowered her voice, "I confess I am astonished that a man of your standing should behave with so little feeling for others."
"What would you have me say? That I shall never do so again? If that is what you want, madam, you have my word on it." Darcy insisted, his own voice growing louder.
Elizabeth raised her chin defiantly. "I do not want your word, sir. You have shown yourself proud, unkind, and excessively full of your own consequence. Keep your apology, I have no use for it."
"Then I thank you for your candour, madam.
I no longer require your assistance." His voice sounded more angry than before, as he moved away from her, and crossed the room to the far side of the wall, where he unceremoniously plopped himself onto the floor, attempting to be seated as far away from her as possible. .
Elizabeth watched him go, eyeing him as he went, before turning her own face toward the opposite wall, that she might not be obliged to look upon so insufferable a man a moment longer.