Page 42 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
“Are you certain she heard you?”
“Yes, she made a comment that left me in no doubt. By that time, I had acknowledged I was in some danger, but it felt like I was being unfaithful to Eilís, which only vexed me. I regard myself as steadfast, and to lust after two women was unnerving at best. Yet, one night I passed her reading on the sofa, and I could not help but let my fingers graze her elegant neck.”
“Darcy! She must have berated you, and rightfully so.”
“No, she startled and shut her book with a thump. It was not until I sat down beside her that she leapt to her feet and hastened back to her recovering sister.”
Richard rose and paced before him. “If she hated you, or even was indifferent, I believe she would have boxed your ears. If she dared trample on your toes, she does not lack courage. I would like to meet this paragon of female attributes and gauge for myself. I do not believe that all hope is lost, though the road to recovery, after what you have destroyed, may be daunting and humbling.”
“Lady Elizabeth is too civil to box my ears. You should have seen her comportment yesterday, Richard. She could not even bear to look at me!”
“Because she is still infatuated?”
“No! Because of the immovable contempt and dislike that is obvious in all her dealings with me. I was just too ignorant to see it!”
“So, you are just going to give up and continue as if nothing is amiss?” Richard sounded more resigned than he had ever heard him.
Darcy studied his cousin. He was rubbing his temples with a grim set around his mouth. He did not only look resigned but utterly dejected.
“No. Though there can be no chance of ever changing Lady Elizabeth’s opinion of me, I donotintend to continue as before. If nothing else, this experience has taught me a valuable lesson or two in how to act or not to act. I know I am a selfish being, or so I was up until this moment. But my pride, arrogance, and selfish disdain for the feelings of others have cost me dearly. I am not so much a fool that I do not recognise that, and I must do everything in my power to become a better man. One that would have been worthy of Eilís.”
“Lady Elizabeth,” Richard corrected.
“She has been Eilís in my private contemplations for so long. I suppose I must drive all thoughts of her from my mind.” And from his dreams, but that he did not voice aloud.
Chapter 14 A Dance is a Canvas
Elizabeth
Elizabeth’s sojourn to town proved an endless source of entertainment. She accompanied her relations to Lady Cowper’s ball and kept a vigilant eye on the entrance whilst conversation flowed around her. She was obliged to contribute, occasionally, as Lord Limerick had many acquaintances. Some young men, and some old indeed, sought an introduction to the unknown lady in his party.
She was watching for the arrival of a certain gentleman, and after less than fifteen minutes, Mr Darcy strutted into the ballroom. Like a peacock, he turned the heads of all the young ladies in attendance—he was so very handsome, particularly his eyes and his Apollo-like form. It could not be denied that he was worldly and educated as well; it was a shame his character was lacking.
She turned away so as not to be recognised, mustered all the energy of her character, which was generally fertile in resources, and made herself pleasant to her company.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Mr Darcy engage a young lady for the next set. Elizabeth was unprepared for the pain the common display brought to her heart. She was obviously still besotted, and, perhaps, would always be because the love was too profound to be disregarded. Elizabeth sighed and bowed her head. If it could not be conquered, she must bury it deep in her heart.
“Lady Elizabeth, Mr Brummell has requested an introduction.” Her grandmother smiled.
“The lauded dandy?” Elizabeth whispered in astonishment. That would give her something to boast about to her father, who would certainly laugh and make sport of her.
“A fine gentleman,” Uncle Henry added with the barest hint of irony. “He is a great friend of the Prince of Wales. I was introduced to him at the Charleton House fete in June,” he further explained.
“Certainly,” Elizabeth acquiesced, and once the introductions were made, he engaged her for the next set.
Brummell was above six feet tall from head to toe with a handsome face, and Elizabeth was not ignorant of the honour he bestowed upon her, nor the notice they drew as they entered the line.
“You are an accomplished dancer,” he flattered her after a few minutes of dancing in silence.
“Thank you, but I must credit my excellent partner.”
Brummell smiled. “You should see me where I shine,” he observed.
“And where is that?” Elizabeth enquired politely.
“During my daily baths,” answered the fop in all seriousness. “I soak for at least an hour every day.”
Elizabeth quashed the impulse to giggle. “Oh my! Every day? Have you no concern for washing away the protective layer of perspiration and subjecting yourself to diseases entering your body through your pores?”
