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“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 your family.”

“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.

“And, yes, of course, I am intrigued by you. How could I not be? You are so… so very…” She trailed off, because honestly, she could not think of a word to describe him.

She was not actually attracted to him, well, other than in the way that she found him very handsome, she supposed, and the way where he seemed to embody her girlish daydream, but she was manipulating him right now.

Any man she could manipulate this easily, she could not rightly be attracted to.

“But there is no reason in thinking any of that. You appear now, but you cannot be with a girl like me. You might toy with me for a time, I suppose, but in the end, you, too, will do your duty to your family. You will fulfill the expectations that are placed on your shoulders.”

His face fell.

She pressed on, leaning closer to him. “I cannot entertain even the prospect of it, you see? I must stay steadfast. If I lose Mr. Collins because I have been distracted by you, then my entire family will be turned out upon my father’s death, and Mr. Collins will be ever so cross with me, and by extension, all of my family, because I paid him no mind and allowed you to turn my head. ”

Mr. Darcy lifted his gaze. “Well, what if I asked you to marry me?”

Triumph surged in her. Got him. But she did not allow that to show on her features or in the way she carried herself.

“You can’t. You won’t. We have only spoken once, over the course of this evening.

You are not a rash man, Mr. Darcy. I can see that about you.

You are not the sort of man who would leap into something ill-advised with some country miss with little to recommend her except her bright eyes. ”

“Oh, that is not all that recommends you,” said Mr. Darcy.

“There is the steadfast explanation of your character, given to me by your sister. There is, indeed, the way everyone I speak to has spoken highly of you. And there is, this conversation now, which tells me everything I need to know about you.”

A lie, she thought. I would refuse Mr. Collins the minute he asked and let my family bear the consequences. I am not like you, Mr. Darcy.

“Shall I go and speak to your father?”

“You cannot!” She shot up from her chair. “You have barely met me, sir. You have been drinking. You must at least sleep on it. I will not have you making such a decision, one that will affect both of the rest of our lives, without being quite certain of it.”

He slowly got to his feet. “But would you say yes?”

She felt herself flushing. Suddenly, it was too real.

What was she doing? This was not a game.

This was not a little scheme to see how quickly she could take control of a relative stranger and manipulate him.

This was her own marriage, her one chance at love, and she was…

what? Throwing it away for Caroline? Marrying the man that Caroline wanted, because then she could use her newly found status to get Caroline a good match?

How had this happened?

“I… sir, you are not serious,” she said.

“You wouldn’t refuse me, would you, Miss Bennet?

” His voice dipped down into a low and intimate register, bowing his head to speak in her ear.

“If your concern is your responsibilities to your family, you must know that a union with me is far more advantageous than anything you’d be giving up with Mr. Collins.

Why, if you wish it, I think I could convince Mr. Collins to enter into an agreement with your father to break the entail. ”

She drew back to look at the man. “Why would Mr. Collins do such a thing?”

“Every man has a price,” said Mr. Darcy. “Every woman, too, of course, but you… I get the impression you can’t be bo ught, Miss Bennet.”

She swallowed, feeling hot shame rush through her.

She had not been bought perhaps, not with his wealth or his property or his status, but she had been quite gratified by her ability to sway him, to manipulate him.

“I insist you sleep on it. You are a gentleman, bound by the strictures of propriety, and if you propose, you cannot take it back. So, don’t propose, sir.

Do nothing you might regret. I apologize if I—”

“But how long do you have until Mr. Collins proposes, madam?”

The competition, there it was. His Achilles heel. She had understood him too well. “I really could not say,” she said.

“What happens to you in the meantime, while you are here worrying about my regret in selecting you?” He was gazing at her with those stormy gray eyes of his. “What manner of woman are you, Miss Bennet, that you say such things?”

“No, you are seeing me all wrong,” she said.

“I don’t think I am,” he said. “It seems to me that you are the sort of woman who is primarily concerned with duty and with doing everything that is expected of her, and that you are this sort of woman because you truly and deeply care about others. You put their concerns above your own.”

“I am not so selfless, sir,” she said, swallowing. She had deceived him entirely. In her desire to manipulate him, she had made an image of herself that would be pleasing to him. When he found out the truth of her, he would not be pleased.

No, she could not marry him.

She simply could not.