“I’m sorry for having made myself scarce, sir,” she said. “It’s been a puzzling evening for me. You are…” She looked him up and down. “Well, you have such eyes.”
“Ihave eyes?” said Mr. Darcy. He turned to Jane. “Have I not been going on about Miss Bennet’s bright eyes for days now?”
“He has,” said Jane, smirking.
“Sit with me?” said Elizabeth.
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” he said.
They sat. Elizabeth looked him over again, her mind working quickly. Maybe it was because it was late or because she’d had a bit too much of the wine punch and was somewhat tipsy, but she felt only a bit of blind determination at this point, an excitement, not a sense of worry or concern.
Could she do it?
Could she make him override that sense of propriety?
Her own conversation with him had only illuminated it, after all. He had spoken of fulfilling expectations about responsibilities. There was only one thing that she had heard about him that did not fit in with it, and that was the business with Mr. Wickham, denying him that living.
Now, she wasn’t sure that Mr. Wickham’s version of the events was the full and true story, but there was some element of it that might, indeed, provide the reasoningbehind it all.
Jealousy was the reason that Mr. Wickham had given for Mr. Darcy’s actions.
But not simply jealousy, something deeper than that.
Inadequacy.
Mr. Darcy had not felt as if he had been properly loved and accepted by his father, and this was why he’d been jealous of Mr. Wickham. Of course, that all fit, didn’t it? If a man felt inadequate, did he not try as hard as he could tobeadequate, to fulfill his role in life, to take care of what he was responsible for?
Yes, yes.
Quite.
She had him. She understood him.
Marrying her would not be proper. She wasn’t the sort of woman who he should unite with. But what had caused him to be improper before, to commit a sin against Mr. Wickham?
Jealousy.
Competition.
“You met Mr. Collins earlier, I suppose,” she said.
“So I did,” said Mr. Darcy. “He went on and on to me about all manner of things about your family’s household. Is it true he is your father’s heir?”
“It is,” she said. “You see, it is all decided, my future is. You arrive, with your eyes and your admiring and everything else, but you must understand why I have had trouble entertaining any of it.”
He blinked at her. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. What do you mean?”
“Well, you saw who had claimed my first two dances of the evening.”
His expression changed. He turned, looking around the room, until his gaze alighted on Mr. Collins, who was talking to Charlotte, still talking to Charlotte. How could Charlotte bear it? Mr. Darcy’s gaze came back to her. “He thinks to marry the eldest available daughter, so that when he takes possession, he is not taking it away from yourfamily.”
“Yes,” she said. “You see just how it is, then.”
“You wish to marry him?”
“I don’t know that it matters what I wish, does it?” she said. “I have a role to fulfill, Mr. Darcy. I have responsibilities. I have a duty to my family.”
He sucked in a sharp breath.
