Chapter Eight
Elizabeth remained as determined as ever to avoid Mr Darcy.
She believed she had ample justification for the resolution. A gentleman who had first quarrelled with her and then calmly informed his friend that she was unsuited to any future he might choose to imagine for himself ought not to occupy a respectable portion of a lady's thoughts.
Unfortunately, Mr Darcy seemed determined not to behave in a manner that would make him easy to dismiss.
Had he been merely arrogant, she could have laughed at him.
Had he been merely disagreeable, she could have disliked him.
Instead he persisted in being a better man than was convenient.
She had seen the care he took of his sister, the patience with which he endured Mr Bingley's enthusiasms, and had the uncomfortable impression that he regretted their quarrel rather more than his pride permitted him to admit. It was exceedingly inconvenient.
Yet however angry she remained with Mr Darcy, she found she could not entirely dismiss the memory of his sister's face.
Miss Darcy had recovered her composure sufficiently to join the company at meals, but there remained about her a fragility that had not been there before.
She smiled when spoken to and answered politely when addressed, yet there were moments when her expression altered and some shadow seemed to pass over it before she could conceal it again.
On two separate occasions she found herself on the verge of approaching the younger woman, only to lose courage at the last moment. What apology could she offer when she did not even understand the offence?
???
Elizabeth found Georgiana at the writing desk in the main parlour the next day, a letter in front of her that had not progressed beyond the salutation.
"Miss Darcy. I hope I am not interrupting anything of importance."
Georgiana glanced at the letter. "I have been writing the same sentence for nearly twenty minutes, so I do not think you can do much harm."
Elizabeth smiled faintly and took a seat opposite her. "Then I shall be brave and proceed. I owe you an apology. What I said in the parlour, about my sister and young men and being crossed in love. I spoke without thought and caused you pain. I am very sorry for it."
A delicate flush rose in Georgiana's cheeks. "Thank you," Georgiana said stiffly. "It is very kind."
"No," Elizabeth said. "Merely honest. Kindness would have required me to think before I spoke."
"Yes," Georgiana said, and looked back at her letter. "Well. Thank you."
Elizabeth waited. Nothing further came. She said good morning and left.
She had made it worse. She was unsure how but still fairly certain of this. And left feeling confused and frustrated.
???
Her mother had a headache by mid-morning and Elizabeth volunteered to go out for headache powders before anyone else could offer. She needed the air. She had the powders and was turning back towards the house when Mr Darcy came around the corner and nearly walked into her.
He caught her elbow. Brief and firm and then gone. She felt the touch like fire on her skin and jerked away.
"Miss Elizabeth. I beg your pardon."
"Not at all." She looked at the paper packet in her hand. "Good morning, sir."
He fell into step beside her and she was silent as she attempted to regulate her breathing. If only his shoulders were less distracting.
At length Mr Darcy said, "I have been hoping for an opportunity to speak with you. Indeed, I begin to suspect you have been taking particular care to deny me one."
Elizabeth kept her attention upon the paper packet in her hands.
"I assure you, sir, Lyme is not so large a place that one can expect to remain undiscovered for long. And any failure to be in your company was unconsciously done." She flinched at the obvious untruth.
"Then I am relieved to hear it. For I have wished for some time to apologise for my conduct in the parlour. Whatever distress my sister may have suffered, you could not possibly have anticipated it, and I had no right to address you as I did. I have regretted my behaviour ever since."
Elizabeth felt the sting of it afresh and sighed. Had he been less honest, she would have found him much easier to dislike.
"I am obliged to you, sir. It is a very handsome apology." This was delivered with more tartness than she intended.
Darcy glanced at her. "One which you do not appear inclined to accept."
"Oh, I accept it perfectly. I merely find myself surprised by it."
"Surprised?"
"Yes. It suggests a degree of concern for my feelings which I had not understood you possessed."
Darcy was silent and when he spoke again, there was a new attentiveness in his voice.
"Have I done something more to offend you, Miss Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth laughed softly, but said nothing.
"Miss Elizabeth," he said after a moment, "if I have given you some further cause for displeasure, I would rather know it than remain ignorant of it."
"Then I am afraid you must remain ignorant a little longer, for I have no desire to explain myself."
"That seems a severe position to take."
"Not half so severe as some of the judgements you pronounce on others, sir."
At last Darcy said quietly, "I confess myself entirely at a loss.
Not so very long ago you were disposed to think tolerably well of me.
Since then I have quarrelled with you once, apologised badly and apparently committed some third offence which remains unknown to me.
I should be grateful if you would enlighten me. "
Elizabeth stopped walking. She had no intention of enlightening him. Yet there was something so direct in the request, and something so infuriating in his apparent ignorance, that her temper finally deserted her.
"I am not certain there is much purpose in it. You have already formed your opinion and I assure you I have no wish to alter it. I am perfectly content to remain exactly what you believe me to be."
Darcy frowned.
"And what, precisely, is that?"
Elizabeth met his gaze. "A woman very fit to be admired, perhaps.
But not, of course, one who has been bred for anything more serious.
I do not consider my ego so very large, sir.
But still, it is disheartening to hear oneself discussed as though one were a horse being inspected before purchase.
Not to mention that I have not, in fact, to my knowledge, applied for the position of mistress of Pemberley. "
The silence that followed seemed to hollow out the street around them. Mr Darcy stared at her, recognition lighting his eyes and all the colour leaving his face.
"Good God. You overheard me."
“That I did, sir. Good day.” With that she walked off briskly, leaving him looking after her in abject horror.