Page 16 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
Mr Darcy did not say a single word in reply. Her mother huffed and walked away whilst lamenting the rudeness of young men today. Elizabeth reminded herself that evils were sent into the world for humans to endure and not to fly in the face of their God at every provocation. It had not the desired calming effect, and as she had heard quite enough, she rose swiftly from her chair and accidentally,or not, stepped on the offending gentleman’s toes on her escape across the room.
She dipped into a shallow curtsey and muttered an insincere apology before hastening as far away from the oaf as she was able. It was a blessing that Charlotte was standing at the opposite end of the assembly room, and she approached her with intent purpose.
“Dearest Charlotte!”
Her friend’s expression was a combination of concern and confusion. It was the right expression if Elizabeth had related what Mr Darcy had just said, but he must not for a moment believe that he had truly injured her. She was completely indifferent to thegentleman, who barely warranted the name, and she must ensure that he was so apprised.
“Would you laugh as if I had just told you an amusing jest?”
Charlotte’s expression changed from light bewilderment to full-fledged astonishment.
“Please, I shall explain later.”
Charlotte complied and laughed lightly.
“You will explain yourself promptly for compelling me to perjure myself. It is uncomfortably warm in here. I suggest we take the air to cool ourselves.”
Charlotte fanned her face for good measure.
Elizabeth forced a smile and laced her arm with her friend’s. With their heads pulled closely together, they left the assembly room and entered the small garden. Once out of the door, Elizabeth released her clammy hold and began pacing before Charlotte, who chose to sit on the only bench.
“Please tell me, what has you at sixes and sevens?”
“A ghost from the past,” Elizabeth muttered without slowing down. “An addlepated, crack-brained, clod pole!”
“What is the matter? I have never seen you so unsettled.”
“I am perfectly well,” she lied. “I have simply been subjected to the cruellest and most ungentlemanly ridicule. I had to escape before I lost my temper, and I am most grateful for your timely rescue.”
“Does trampling on a poor gentleman’s toes count as keeping your composure?” Charlotte probed with a slight smile.
“Yes. When one is provoked to claw someone’s eyes out, I deem a slight discomfort to the toes the least to be expected.”
Charlotte giggled, but her countenance soon turned serious.
“You cannot go about offending a respectable gentleman such as Mr Darcy. He is not of our sphere and is a man of great consequence.”
“I am perfectly aware of his consequence. It is his person that I object to.”
“Why? What can he have done to you to deserve such disrespect? As far as I can tell, you have not exchanged one word while spending two hours in the same room with no dialogue between you.”
“It is a long story.”
“Then it is a good thing that I have nothing better to do than listen to a dear friend, and I dare say you promised me an explanation.”
Elizabeth stopped pacing and regarded Charlotte quizzically, pondering how much she should relate and how much she should conceal.
“Do you remember the boy who rescued me from the wild and vicious horse I was so stupid as to approach?”
“Yes, who could forget? You lauded your handsome knight for years—” Charlotte halted abruptly and appeared contemplative. “It cannot be?”
“It can. It was Mr Darcy.”
“Then why are we here? We shall return promptly inside and find your hero. You must, at the very least, thank him for his bravery.”
Charlotte rose from the bench and walked towards the entrance. Elizabeth hastened her stride and grabbed her friend’s hand to stop her.
“No. Please do not. Resume your seat.”
