Chapter 1.11 #5
She blushed even more at his gesture—did she understand my thoughts?
—but she finally took hold of his arm, and his other hand moved quickly to cover hers in warmth and protection.
They exchanged a quick glance—enough for him to perceive her acceptance of his boldness—and her small hand moved slightly under his.
Almost unconsciously, they entwined their fingers—not completely, just enough to avoid notice by anyone else.
His eyes were fixed upon her beautiful profile, but though his intense stare was smouldering, she did not dare lift her eyes from the ground.
Instead, she started to walk, seeking a proper way to begin their conversation.
“Mr Darcy, I am so sorry about my appearance. I was caught up in my little cousins’ games and forgot myself. Apparently, I have made it a habit to show myself in front of you in the most disadvantageous circumstances—”
A habit indeed… So she remembers our discussion that day in the storm.
“Do not worry, Miss Elizabeth, it is not yet a pattern as it has happened only three times before today. And I should not call this circumstance disadvantageous but rather unusual and quite charming.”
She laughed. “You are teasing me, sir, and that is not very gentlemanlike. I cannot possibly believe you find anything charming in my playing with the children and dirtying myself or in seeing me covered in mud as happened previously,” she said, trying to tease him back.
“I am not teasing you but speaking the absolute truth. The last time I saw you covered in mud—as you said—is a treasured memory.”
He lowered his head a little, enough to see a blushing wave spread over her face and neck, and he knew she could feel his gaze.
She kept her eyes on the ground but unconsciously brought her hand up to his arm and joined it with the other, so both her hands were now resting under his protective palm: another movement of their fingers, another tightening of their touch, another slight caress of the other’s hand.
Her gesture was as eloquent as a tender answer, and he did not fail to understand it.
Darcy stopped, looking somewhere far away as if admiring the view, and then turned to face her.
“Miss Elizabeth, I must confess that I came here today, not by a fortunate coincidence but with the precise purpose and hope of finding a few moments alone with you as I wanted to explain a few things.”
She finally raised her eyes to his, waiting and never releasing his arm.
“I cannot find the words to express my deepest regret for our inconsiderate behaviour in departing from Hertfordshire. I can only imagine how it appeared to the whole neighbourhood and in what light the whole event—deservedly—appeared. Please allow me to apologise and—”
“Do not apologise, sir. You simply acted as any gentleman in your situation would have acted.”
He wanted to say something, but she continued, looking deeply into his eyes, blushing while making her confession. “I shall not deny that we were…worried and surprised by your departure, but the fault was not yours. I…we understand perfectly what happened.”
Her voice barely audible, she added, “Miss Darcy’s accident…occurred the same day that…”
“Yes.”
She wanted to continue but found nothing to say. What words would have been proper at such a moment?
“Miss Elizabeth, I should like to ask you a personal favour.” His voice sounded grave, and she nodded without hesitation.
“If I am not asking too much, would you allow me to introduce Georgiana to you tomorrow? She truly regretted that she could not come to visit you, and she expressed an insistent desire to meet you.”
“It would be an honour. But is she recovered enough to entertain guests? I was under the impression she was still in bed.”
“She is not well and keeps to her bed—not just for her illness but for her broken leg as well. But if you would agree to…just visit her briefly in her room. Please believe me: there is nothing contagious in her disease at the moment. I would never jeopardise your safety if that were the case.”
His caring words melted her heart. He looked so unsure of himself, so troubled, and so much in need of tenderness that she raised her hand to caress his face before realising what she was doing.
She stopped in the middle of the motion, suddenly remembering their location and their companions, and returned her hand to his arm as they resumed their slow walk.
The gratitude on his face proved to her that he understood her gesture, and she felt embarrassed but did not avert her eyes. She was no longer unsure—not of herself and not of him. Her eyes and her smile explained: Yes, I confess I wanted to touch you, but I stopped because we are in public.
Her voice a little shaky, she finally found the words to continue. “Mr Darcy, my only concern was for Miss Darcy’s health. I should be truly delighted and honoured to meet her if it would not disturb her rest.”
“I confess I am overly protective towards her, and no visits have been allowed since the accident except for our closest family and friends: my aunt Lady Ellen Matlock, Bingley, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. They have been close by all this time and have helped me. Nobody else is admitted.”
Except me, thought Elizabeth, her heart full of joy at the hidden implication of his words.
“Except you,” continued Darcy with a low, deep voice, reading her thoughts and tightening his grip on her hands.
No other gesture or words were needed.