Page 14 of The Briar Bargain (The Rom Com Collection #3)
"Quite,” Mrs. Hurst agreed. “Though she ought to have avoided putting herself in the position of requiring rescue herself.
It is one thing to make such a choice for yourself, but when you force others to put themselves at risk for you .
. ." She shook her head. “No, it was badly done. But I suppose we could not expect better from a woman who crossed three miles of muddy fields because her sister had a cold.”
"Perhaps," Miss Bingley suggested to her sister with a titter, "it was the hope of drawing someone’s particular attention that clouded her reason. There are people who thrive on creating such spectacles."
Darcy felt his jaw clench, though he was careful to keep his expression impassive.
Of course. Miss Elizabeth had orchestrated a deluge, arranged for a child to fall into the river, and then had nearly drowned herself, all in a clever plot to lure him in.
Miss Bingley’s real vexation was that others found Miss Elizabeth’s actions worthy of admiration.
"I believe," he said with deliberate coolness, "that she has acted with remarkable courage and I am certain that she saved young Peter Farrow’s life. "
Mrs. Hurst had the grace to look abashed. But Miss Bingley recovered from her surprise quickly, her smile becoming even more cloying and artificial.
"Oh, naturally we admire Miss Elizabeth’s dedication to others," she said smoothly. "Though one cannot help but wonder at the propriety of the circumstances. How fortunate that you were on hand to preserve her modesty."
The insinuation in her tone made Darcy's blood boil, though he was careful not to show it. "When someone’s life is at risk, Miss Bingley, propriety can hardly be a primary concern."
"Of course not," Mrs. Hurst agreed hastily, seeming to sense his displeasure. "We merely meant—"
"I understand your meaning perfectly," Darcy interrupted, his voice cutting through her protestations like ice. "Excuse me, I have other matters to attend."
He swept past them without another word. He imagined he had shocked them both, but he could not care. Their opinions had never meant much to him, but their willingness to disparage Miss Elizabeth's character in the face of what she had done was a vulgarity he would not tolerate.
As he climbed the stairs to the family wing, Darcy reflected grimly on how completely his own views had shifted.
Not long ago, he had shared their disdain for the Bennet family's want of connexions and fortune. Now, faced with the proof of Miss Elizabeth’s sterling character, such concerns seemed petty and meaningless.
He had been petty. Darcy sighed. And not just that. He had been a superior arse .
Not long after he had changed out of his dirty clothes, there was a soft knock on his chamber door. A servant informed him that Miss Elizabeth awaited his presence in the small sitting room between her sister’s bedchamber and her own, whenever it was convenient for him to attend.
Convenient. As though anything else in the world was more important than this summons.
Darcy made his way to the indicated room with measured steps. He paused outside the door, gathering his composure, before knocking quietly.
"Enter," came Miss Bennet's gentle voice.
The sitting room was small but comfortable.
Elizabeth sat near the fireplace on a settee, and Miss Bennet was moving to a chair closer to the window with her embroidery in hand.
Miss Elizabeth was properly dressed now, though a soft shawl was wrapped around her shoulders and a blanket tucked about her legs.
He studied her complexion, pleased to see that her colour was indeed much improved from the deathly pallor of two days ago.
When her eyes met his, Darcy felt the familiar jolt of awareness that her presence always provoked. She looked somewhat fragile still, but more unmistakably herself. Alert, intelligent, and faintly amused by something. Him, most likely.
"Mr. Darcy," she said softly, inclining her head. "Please, do sit down. I fear I am less than formally attired, but I suppose you have seen me in worse conditions."
A faint blush stained her cheeks at the admission, and Darcy felt his own face warm in response. "Miss Elizabeth. I cannot tell you how relieved I am to see you recovered."
"Not entirely recovered," Miss Bennet interjected gently, "but certainly improved. "
"Of course." Darcy took the chair Miss Elizabeth indicated. "How are you feeling?"
"Well enough, other than suffering the tragic fate of being mothered by my sister. If I linger here much longer, I suspect she will confiscate my hairpins for fear I shall attempt an escape," Miss Elizabeth replied with a slight smile.
Miss Bennet said nothing from her perch at the window, but she did shake her head a little.
Miss Elizabeth’s gaze moved from her sister back to him. "But I am alive, which I am told is the more important consideration."
He almost smiled. "Infinitely more important."
A brief silence fell, charged with unspoken emotion. Miss Bennet cleared her throat delicately.
Miss Elizabeth's gaze fixed on Darcy's face with an intensity that made him feel exposed. "Jane has told me something of what you did, as I remember only a little of it . . . You went into the water after me, at considerable risk to yourself. I wished to thank you.”
"Any gentleman would have done the same," Darcy insisted.
"Would they?" Miss Elizabeth paused, then tilted her head slightly.
"I am very grateful, Mr. Darcy, please let me reiterate that.
But I must also confess myself surprised by your dedication to my welfare.
Particularly given your stated opinion of my charms at the Meryton assembly and, I suspect, since. "
So he had hurt her. "Miss Elizabeth," he began, his voice rough with emotion, "I cannot begin to express how deeply I regret those words. They were spoken in a moment of foolish pride and ill humour, and they were utterly unforgivable."
"And yet you spoke them," she said quietly. "And you had more to say, I am told. Miss Bingley has been most enlightening. "
Darcy closed his eyes briefly, cursing Miss Bingley's malicious tongue. "Whatever Miss Bingley may have repeated, I can only say that my early judgments were formed in ignorance and prejudice. I have since learned how thoroughly mistaken I was."
Her words were wry, even charming, though they embarrassed him. "How fortunate for me, Mr. Darcy, that I did not drown before your remarkable transformation. What has brought about such a change?"
There was nothing for it but the truth. Darcy met her gaze steadily. " You have, Miss Elizabeth. You have shown me through your deportment and your actions how blind I was to your true character."
She was not sure she had heard him correctly. "My character?"
"You came to your sister’s side to provide her with devoted care.
You assisted a servant girl before the rest of us were able to respond.
You risked your life for a child yesterday without a moment's hesitation.
" Darcy's voice grew softer. "You laugh at the audacity of pompous fools, though we deserve to be properly set down.”
Miss Elizabeth shook her head. "Mr. Darcy, I—"
"I have been arrogant, Miss Elizabeth. But I hope I am learning to be better.”
She was quiet for a time. At length, she spoke. "Mr. Darcy, I fear I owe you an apology as well. My own behaviour has been less than charitable. I allowed my wounded pride to colour my opinion, and I spoke of you to others in terms that were perhaps unfair."
"You had every right to think ill of me," Darcy protested quietly.
"Perhaps. But it does not follow that I ought to have behaved in the same way. I fear we have both been guilty of allowing pride to cloud our better judgment." She shifted slightly and winced.
"Are you in pain?" Darcy asked, half-rising from his chair .
"No, please. I am merely stiff from lying abed so long." Miss Elizabeth waved him off with a weary gesture. "Sit down, Mr. Darcy. I will not break."
He resumed his seat reluctantly, though his eyes remained fixed on her face. "Mr. Jones should examine you thoroughly when he is able."
Her eyes searched his face. "So everyone tells me. But you were in the water as well. Should you not also be examined?"
Even in her weakened state, she thought of another’s welfare.
"I am perfectly well," he assured her. “I wish only to assist your recovery in whatever way I am able.”
Miss Elizabeth regarded him thoughtfully, her fingers loosening their grip on her shawl. “Thank you.” She pulled the blanket more snugly about her and glanced towards the door. “I believe I am ready to rest again. Will you permit me to dismiss you with thanks, sir?”
Darcy rose at once, bowing slightly. “Your thanks are unnecessary, Miss Elizabeth. To have you returned safely to health is more than sufficient.”
She smiled faintly. “Nevertheless, you have them.”
He hesitated, then allowed himself one last look at her—alive, alert, and unbowed despite her ordeal—before retreating.