Chapter 1.2 #3
He felt almost overwhelmed by the desire to thrust his fingers through that wonderful, silky hair and caress her.
He had been with women in more intimate situations, but he had never felt anything similar. He had never been in love before, and the feelings for the young woman in front of him were so powerful that he was afraid they would burst forth from his chest.
Darcy unconsciously found himself praying for the rain to last a few more hours so he could remain a little longer in her company. He was afraid that, if they left the cottage now, she would remember only his previous treatment of her, her dislike of him, and Wickham’s tales.
He heard her asking his opinion about some book, which was her father’s favourite, and he could not pull himself together enough to give her a coherent answer.
Therefore, he pretended not to remember details about it, and she began to explain the particulars.
This led to Elizabeth’s opening a new topic of conversation that she considered safe: her father’s care in guiding her into the world of books.
He watched her with admiration and approval as she spoke affectionately of her father.
“So do I understand you spend many hours in the library with your father? Do any of your other sisters share your passion for books?”
“Mary reads a great deal and equally gives a great importance to improving herself in music. And my sweet Jane likes to read, but none of them shares my taste in books. It is just something between me and my father.”
“That must be wonderful.”
“It is, but I also like to spend as much time as I can outdoors, walking through the fields. I am afraid Papa spends too much time in his library, and it is not good for his health. I try to take him out whenever I can.”
“I, too, like to spend time outdoors when at Pemberley. It is a fortunate thing that my sister shares the same pleasure. We spend as much time as possible taking long rides or walks together when we are at home.”
As he spoke of his sister, his eyes became even warmer, the tone of his voice grew softer and a little sad.
“You seem to be quite close to your sister, Mr Darcy.”
“Yes, I am. How could I not be? We are the only two left in our family.”
“It must have been difficult for both of you to lose your parents.” What a stupid thing to say. Of course it was difficult.
Before answering, Darcy looked at her soundly. He had not talked to anyone about his parents for so long that he almost forgot how painful their deaths had been for him. Still, he felt a strange impulse to do so at that moment as Elizabeth seemed sincerely willing to listen to him.
“It was difficult, especially for Georgiana. My mother died many years ago when Georgiana was only an infant, and my excellent father died five years ago. Since then, we have had only each other. Of course, we have close relatives who are attentive to us and give us all their support; nevertheless…”
“And you take care of Miss Darcy alone? That is indeed an extraordinary thing.”
“No indeed, Miss Bennet, I do not deserve such praise. I am her guardian together with my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, and I have the best masters at my disposal to give Georgiana a proper education.”
His tone remained soulful and melancholic. Elizabeth missed the lively conversation they were enjoying a few minutes earlier and could not help sharing his sadness. She was pleased to hear him speak about his sister but would have preferred to do so in a more easy and friendly manner.
Thus, hoping to cheer his mood, she began to tease him gently.
“Two guardians for Miss Darcy? Hmm…is your charge giving you so much trouble already? Young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she has but half your spirit, she may like to have her own way—not to mention the fact that she is such an accomplished young lady and must have many admirers around her.”
The moment she finished, she knew she had made an unforgivable mistake. His face instantly became stern, livid, and pained. His eyebrows knit together, and his eyes opened widely in disbelief while searching her own eyes, trying to discern the meaning behind her words.
He stood and answered coldly, full of repressed rage and disappointment at what he thought to be the revealing of her opinion about his sister.
“Miss Bennet, my sister is still almost a child. I know that your opinion of me is very low, and I can accept your reproaches as being correct, but my sister does not deserve to be spoken of in such terms. I shall not allow that from anyone—not even from you.”
He turned his back to her, glaring at the savage rain outside the window, unable to breathe because of the knot in his throat.
He would have killed Wickham if he could.
To spread false stories about him was one thing, but to expose Georgiana in such a way?
To how many others had he also been speaking?
Too hurt and angry to think clearly, he paced the room like a caged animal, intent on calming himself while deciding upon his next course of action.