“Miss Bennet,” said Darcy. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all,” she replied. “I was just writing a letter to my sister Jane.”
They took seats near the fire.
“I hope your family are well,” he said. He did not meet her eye.
“As far as I know, my lord,” she replied. “I expect to hear from Jane any day.”
“Ah, yes, of course,” he said. Darcy – Matlock – was clearly distracted and unless Elizabeth misread his expression entirely, he was upset.
“Has the weather kept you from your business, my lord?”
“It has interfered,” he replied, but did not elaborate.
“My condolences,” she said at length. “I hope the storm ends soon, for both our sakes.”
“Do you?” he asked, standing suddenly and staring down at her. “Do you truly hope that?”
Startled into stuttering, Elizabeth answered, “I- I do.”
“Because I began to suspect you’d been rather enjoying your stay here at Byrne Hill.”
“I am, my lord,” she said, her confusion rampant.
“Precisely how much has that enjoyment to do with young Mr. Henry Charleton?”
Elizabeth rose to her feet slowly.
“I beg your pardon, my lord,” she said slowly. “Are you suggesting--”
“I am asking you directly,” he said.
Elizabeth raised her chin. “I knew you before you were Matlock; you do not intimidate me.”
“You like the boy,” he said, making it sound like an accusation.
“He’s hardly a boy,” said Elizabeth. “We are the same age.”
“He is a boy to me.”
“Your behavior towards him thus far has rendered this unsurprising, my lord,” she said.
“I have been perfectly cordial,” he said, taken aback.
“You have been nearly rude with every instance I’ve heard you speak to the man,” she said. “When you deign to speak at all.”
He made her no answer but paced to the snow-speckled window.
Elizabeth was not of a mind to humor him and did not solicit his attention again. She set about addressing and sealing her letter to Jane. What did it matter if she mentioned Mr. Charleton?
“You have not answered my question,” said Matlock without turning.
“Which question was that, my lord?” she said, not bothering to glance at him in her pique.
“I’ll summarize. Are you engaged to him?”
When she didn’t immediately answer, he turned.
Elizabeth looked at his face then; finding no indication of the directions his thoughts had taken and annoyed by the accusation in his manner, she gave the most disobliging answer she could come up with.
“We have been in Newcastle but two days, my lord,” she said. “Without the benefit of bedridden illness, I have not yet found the time to become engaged.”
In three strides, he crossed the room. Darcy reached out to grip her shoulders, holding her captive. His face seemed lit from within, his look was so intent. He bent and pressed his lips to hers.
The last and otherwise only time Elizabeth had been kissed, it had been a boy of fifteen who claimed to be desperately in love with her. Considering she’d never laid eyes on him after that momentous declaration, she’d come to believe he’d been mistaken. Even so, the memory was sweet; it lightened her heart to think of it.
Darcy’s kiss was neither light, nor sweet.
It was over almost as soon as it had begun. Darcy stepped back, releasing his grip on her so suddenly she stumbled. He helped set her to rights without meeting her eyes, but did not speak. With a sharp nod, he left the room.
Elizabeth sank into a chair, pressing her fingers to her mouth as tears slipped down her cheeks.
Darcy strode through the halls, not stopping to spare so much as a glance for anyone he passed, until he found the door to his rooms. Once safely inside, he pressed his back against it and shut his eyes.
Elizabeth was enamored of the Charleton boy. She’d as much as said so; certainly she’d taken no pains to deny it. Darcy had come to heel too late.
He felt more sympathy now for those men he’d known who’d lamented their lost loves. Darcy had never understood before – if you lost the woman you love to someone else, simply love another woman. The concept seemed very straightforward in his mind. Could he then apply the same logic here?
Find another woman; forget Elizabeth Bennet.
His rationale failed him there and against all odds, Darcy began to laugh.
How very like him, to discover he loved the woman whom he was no longer pretending to court.
He could not bear the humiliation of it, not even in the solitude of this room. He would quit Byrne Hill as soon as it could be arranged.
As for the madness of kissing Elizabeth – Miss Bennet – Darcy would apologize. He would wish her well and take his leave, and be done with her forever.
Dear Jane,
Why do you not write? I expect to hear from you every moment. It will amuse me to hear more about how many times Mr. Bingley asked you to dance at the assembly; I want to know if I’ve guessed the number. You may keep news of his sisters to yourself, if you like.
I confess, the hope of news from home buoys me more than I like to admit. Byrne Hill is lovely and its residents are by and large amiable. And yet –
I dare not write more at present on that subject, for I expect to be interrupted this morning. Suffice it to say I’ll grant you any detail you like when next we meet.
I don’t believe I mentioned the storm in my last letter to you. You ought to make a point of seeing Newcastle upon Tyne in winter, sister dear. I have not seen its equal, not in beauty nor in sheer volume of snowfall. It is elegant and beautiful, and too cold to enjoy out of doors but lovely to watch from the warmth of my room. We very nearly had to turn ‘round on our arrival, the snow was so thick; fortunately, we were able to pass the streets and we arrived tardy but whole.
Mr. Henry Charleton has proved himself the readiest conversationalist in England this week. I think perhaps my aunt and his mother have been conspiring to see us attached for quite some time. He is a kind, charming fellow. I think he should have more than his share of my attention if not for—
But again, I am mindful of discovery and will say no more.
It is fortunate that young Mr. Charleton is a sensible sort of man, for we are much thrown together these last several days. The roads are not yet improved enough to pay calls, though we’re told just this morning that this Saturday’s assembly will be held as scheduled. I am glad of it, for beautiful though the snow may be, I have been indoors too long. Provided the roads have improved we still expect to make our way north on Sunday.
Give my love to all our dear family. I hope to hear news of you soon.
Yours, etc.
Lizzy