Truth about Mr. Darcy by Susan Adriani Read Free Book Online Page B

by his thoughts, he failed to hear Elizabeth when she entered the room.
    For several long minutes, Elizabeth quietly observed him, overwhelmed by the look of vulnerability about him and greatly distressed by his obvious misery. Never had she seen him thus, and it pained her to know she could likely be the cause of such acute suffering. With a pang of disappointment and regret, it suddenly occurred to her that, perhaps, her intrusion into such an intimate moment would not be met by Darcy with any degree of welcome.
    Then, after detecting a faint scent of lavender, Darcy opened his eyes and looked up to see her standing before him, a vision of beauty bathed in the last rays of the afternoon sun. It took his breath away, until he finally collected himself enough to realize he was being rude by remaining seated. He quickly made to stand, but Elizabeth stopped him with a touch of her hand on his arm, which, in his current state of misery and confusion, threatened to discompose him completely. He was stunned when she knelt before him on the carpet and gave him a small, hesitant smile.
    “I believe I owe you my thanks, Mr. Darcy, for your ardent defense of my good name.” Her voice was soft, yet with a tenderness in her tone, which, were she broaching any other topic, would have given him great pleasure to hear.
    He looked away from her, ashamed to hear any reference to that horrible day. When he finally forced himself to speak, his voice was hoarse, both from the emotion he felt and from lack of use. “You owe me nothing, Miss Bennet, most particularly your thanks. My behavior was utterly barbaric. You cannot possibly know how it torments me, and I owe you my deepest apologies for behaving in such a reprehensible manner. Truly, it should be I sitting at your feet to beg your forgiveness for all my offenses, not merely for those of the last week, but those throughout our entire acquaintance.”
    Elizabeth was surprised and more than a little saddened by his harsh admonishment of himself and his allusion to the awkwardness in their past. “I think, Mr. Darcy, you are far too severe upon yourself,” she said gently. “You have done nothing that is so unforgivable in my eyes that you should seek my absolution, and, as you are well aware, sir, Mr. Wickham is anything but a gentleman. Perhaps your actions in this case may have been impulsive and rash. Your purpose, though you may now deny it, was and will always be an honorable one. I must be permitted to commend you for that, at least, if for nothing else.” A smile of appreciation tugged at the corners of her mouth as she then said, “And if I may be allowed to say so, sir, I can think of no other method of persuasion than the one you employed, nor any other man beside yourself who would have been as successful in his endeavor of carrying his point with the likes of Mr. Wickham.”
    “Do you make light of the fact I nearly strangled a man to death, Miss Bennet? Even one so worthless as Mr. Wickham?” he asked solemnly, his voice barely above a murmur.
    Elizabeth’s mouth formed into a serious line. “No. I could never do that, nor would it ever be within my power to commend any action of such a nature. Indeed, I was very distressed by it, perhaps even more so after its occurrence. However, I have been very concerned about you and what you must now be suffering as a result of it. Truly, I cannot but be moved by the esteem you must have for me, Mr. Darcy, in order to do such an awful thing in defense of my honor.”
    Upon her declaration of concern for him, he stared at her, surprise on his face. Indeed, after all that transpired, how could he not?
    Seeing his astonishment and wishing to put him at ease, if only a little, Elizabeth extended her hand and laid it boldly upon his cheek. She heard his sharp intake of breath and then watched in awe as he closed his eyes and melted into her touch. After a moment, seemingly unable to resist such a temptation, Darcy covered her hand