Fitzwilliam Darcy, Poet by Jennifer Joy

Author:Jennifer Joy [Joy, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2019-07-27T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Darcy had no desire to leave Miss Elizabeth’s company immediately. He had returned from his ride with Bingley prepared for the tedious association of the other ladies of the house. It had been a pleasant surprise to first see Miss Elizabeth and her ever-ready smile. She had a lovely smile. And intelligent eyes. Perhaps too intelligent.

Darcy had yet to wholly discern if her intentions tended toward the manipulative tactics most common among females. He found himself wishing her to be different … which meant he must be cautious.

“Your sister is improved?” he asked, grimacing at himself because the question had already been addressed.

“She is, thank you.” Miss Elizabeth shifted her weight, a scuffed half-boot peeking from under her skirt as she took a step up. “I should help her.”

Darcy, also, ascended the stairs. He did not wish to sit in the garden, nor did he want to be so easily found by Miss Bingley. Wickham could be trusted to help him pass the time until Bingley was available to begin the arduous task of going over ledgers — normally satisfying work for Darcy but made difficult for the flighty habits and haphazard managing of his pupil, who would sooner spend no more than thirty minutes perusing the sums, declaring them good enough, and walking away to engage himself in a pursuit more agreeable to him … such as blocking the chilly breeze for Miss Bennet.

Miss Elizabeth’s pace slowed as she neared the top of the steps.

Darcy slowed to allow her to continue.

She did not budge. Instead, she looked at him as if his gentlemanly gesture was an inconvenience.

“Pray, do not let me keep you from going wherever it is you are going,” she said. “I … I only need a moment … to … stand here.”

Darcy’s concern grew. “Are you well?” he said, instinctively reaching for her arm. She did not look dizzy.

She jerked away from him. “I am quite well, Mr. Darcy. I am only suffering from a brief moment of indecision, and I do wish you would be so kind as to allow me a second or two to determine in which direction I should go. In peace.”

As if he were imposing on her. Another gentlemanly deed gone unappreciated. Had Miss Elizabeth’s intelligence been inferior, Darcy would have been concerned she had apparently forgotten the way to her sister’s room. Instead, he was frustrated. How could he prove his gentlemanliness if she was determined to misunderstand him?

He could not fail to point out the obvious. Pointing to the left, he said, “Miss Bennet’s room is in that direction.”

Sparks glistened in her eyes, and Darcy knew he was in for a clever retort when Miss Elizabeth’s eyebrow shot up.

“If I were lost, you would be the last person I would ask for direction. I cannot help but feel you would forever hold it against me, and I have no wish to be in any man’s debt,” she said, the flecks in her brown eyes and the high color in her cheeks tempting Darcy to provoke her further.

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