Page 25 of Requirements for Love (Love in London with Mr Darcy #3)

Saturday had been a brisk January day, but mild enough for Darcy to convince a group of friends to ride and drive to Hampstead.

It was only four miles away, but the change of scene and the ability to be gone from home all day suited him.

They stopped to tour Kenwood House, and from all accounts, everyone enjoyed the day.

Unfortunately, the fresh air and beautiful views only made him think of how much Elizabeth would enjoy the excursion.

After a full day and dinner with his friends, he finally returned home, bracing himself for more hostility from his confined guest. He would insist on her hearing his apology; his character required it. If she refused, he would write it and slide it under her door.

“Where is Miss Bennet?” he asked when he entered the drawing room and found only Georgiana and Mrs Annesley sitting together.

“She retired to her own rooms after dinner,” said Mrs Annesley.

“I think her arm and foot are sore from using the cane,” added his sister. “She admitted to moving around more than was good for her.”

He nodded, keeping his countenance impassive. This was a chance to speak alone and apologise.

After a few moments of sitting with his sister and her companion and asking about their day, he said, with an air of indifference, “I have hardly seen Miss Bennet since Thursday. Would you think it polite for me to ask after her health?” he asked Mrs Annesley.

He wanted nothing untoward construed in his going to speak to Elizabeth.

Mrs Annesley nodded. “It is only seven; I am sure she has not gone to sleep.”

He felt the tension in his shoulders ease; permission was granted to go to her room. It would not be remarkable if she was just sitting in her own parlour, but it had become her makeshift bedchamber as well.

“Why do you not re-join us in half an hour?” Mrs Annesley added. “Your sister has made some improvements to her design for a new table.”

Georgiana beamed at him, and in that moment she looked like both an accomplished young lady and a proud little girl. “I look forward to seeing it,” he said with a smile. “You will excuse me? I will be just a moment.”

He hesitated outside Elizabeth’s door before knocking and asking if she would see him. Darcy counted the seconds before she answered and said he could enter.

Elizabeth gave him a faint smile as she gestured for him to sit.

It was not filled with contempt, but it certainly was not friendly.

“I am surprised to see you, but you are welcome. We have not spoken since…” She did not say, “the incident on the stairs,” but she might as well have from the stare she gave him.

“I have been gone from home much these last two days, but I have no pressing evening engagements for the present.”

“I remember you saying that once you met your present obligations, you would try to be more at home while I was here. I will not hold you to it.”

There was no polite reply to that. “How is your health? Georgiana hinted you overtaxed yourself.”

Elizabeth blushed fiercely. “I stubbornly thought I could move with the walking stick as much as I wished. I thought it best to stay here and rest. In fact, I will take breakfast here tomorrow.” She now avoided looking at him entirely.

“I think your sister will understand; she saw me wincing earlier.”

“Too proud to ask for help?”

“Too proud to offer it?” she retorted.

“I have my pride, same as any man, but I am never too proud to offer my help to a friend.”

“And yet you say careless things about your friends.” Elizabeth exhaled and collected herself. “I have been rebuffing you for days, and I am sorry. I assume you would like to speak?”

He wanted to ask if she admired Peck. He was a sportsman whose complete idleness was only kept in check by the military career forced on him by his father.

Darcy did like him; he was enjoyable company while racing a barouche or practising fencing.

He was respectable despite his frivolous tendencies.

The kind of friend he would let his sister dance with, the kind of friend to laugh away an evening with—but not the sort of friend to confide in a fear or a fault.

Even after the years he had known him, he could not imagine Captain Peck devoting himself to a woman like Elizabeth. Not that Peck would be an unfaithful husband, but Darcy could not see him with a woman who would require anything substantive from him.

But asking her if she liked Captain Peck was intolerably rude. Besides, he had to apologise for speaking so explicitly about her family before he could ever talk with her about anything else.

“I am sorry for what I said on the stairs,” he said sombrely. “I had no design of affronting or insulting you, and given how much admiration I have for you, I should not have spoken openly about your family’s flaws.”

Elizabeth watched him as though waiting for something more. “You do not regret saying it, but you regret I overheard it?”

“No, I regret saying it. It was a thought I should have kept private out of respect for you and your feelings for your relations.”

She looked incredulous. “But you do not regret feeling it in the first place? You still believe they have a want of sense that would be a degradation if they were closely connected to you? ”

Darcy leant back, shaking his head. “Degradation takes it too far, but those are my honest feelings, yes.”

Elizabeth scoffed. “You speak with more honesty than prudence.”

Was she concerned that, after they married, he would gossip about her family’s faults, open her and them to criticism and disdain? It was a fair concern after what she overheard, but he could admit to being offended that she thought so little of his character.

“I was blunt with my cousin because he and I can say anything to one another. I am honest with everyone, but I would not speak about your family to just anyone.”

“Blunt?” she repeated. “Bluntness, or rather rudeness, as it deserves to be called, is not always so much a mark of honesty as it is taken to be. I have had enough of your ‘honesty’, and it might do you more credit to be less honest in the future.”

He started. “I cannot move in society as I want to and must without being honest. I would lose all respectability. To be persuasive, one must be credible. To be credible, one must be truthful. And the truth is, forgive me to say, your nearest relations are an embarrassment.”

“You mean they are not rich and some are in trade,” she cried.

Darcy rose to pace. Why was she so offended by the truth that she would wish for him to be dishonest? “No, I meant exactly what I said. Their want of sense, the impropriety of their conduct, is mortifying to witness.”

Elizabeth turned pink and pressed her lips together, and Darcy felt a stab of guilt at paining her. “I am sorry for talking about your relations with Fitzwilliam in that way. It was like gossip, and I owe you better than that.”

Elizabeth moved to rise, nearly forgetting that she could not walk. She huffed in frustration and said, “You think you are always right, vindicating your character, anxious to explain. I am surprised your character even allowed you to excite the spirit of apology in your heart.”

He threw up his hands. “I came here open and sincere. I was wrong to talk about your family in that way to my cousin. I should have kept my silence on the subject out of respect for you.” He might have said instead that the real reason he should have been circumspect was because he was in love with her, but the scowl on her face told him she did not want to hear that.

She crossed her arms. “I am surprised you admitted me into your home, given how you hate my descent.”

“I do not hate your relations,” he cried. “They have never injured me enough to hate them.”

“But their behaviour affronts you so much you commented on it to your cousin.”

“You do not see it?” he breathed, not believing it. “That is impossible. You are sensible, observant, and have impeccable manners. You, as well as your elder sister, must see it.”

Her brow narrowed. “See what?”

“That your mother could use a few hints as to the advantage of holding her tongue and that your younger sisters ought to be cured of running after the militia officers. And your father’s sarcasm and indifference to his family?

I need only show you the letter he wrote to me regarding Mr Wickham and the safety of every young lady in his neighbourhood. ”

The disturbance of her mind was visible in every feature. She was struggling for the appearance of composure. Darcy stepped forward and said, “As a friend, I hate to distress you?—”

“If this is how you talk to your friends, I am amazed you have any.”

He stared at her as his mind raced, and she eventually looked away. He realised that what he was apologising for was not what had offended Elizabeth. She wanted him to repent for thinking her family was badly behaved. “I hate to pain you,” he said softly, “but I was honest. And you are not.”

Her eyes shot up to meet his. “I have never lied!”

“Only to yourself.” He returned to the chair across from her. “I do not object to the situation of your family, but the way they conduct themselves. Think only of their conduct at the Netherfield ball, if you need a reminder.”

She blushed and looked away, but said nothing .

“You can be displeased with how I represented them, and that I did it in a spirit of complaint, but you cannot say I am wrong about their total want of propriety. Pardon me. It pains me to offend you,” he repeated.

He waited to see if she said anything, an agreement, an argument, but she pointedly avoided his eye. He could not be certain if she was about to cry, and given her manner toward him, she would not want him there to see it. Darcy rose, and she did not even look up at him.

She did not want his professions of love, and she would not overlook his blunder. Even after his apology, he had no hope she would accept him now.