Free Pride and Prejudice (Clandestine Classics) by Jane Austen, Amy Armstrong Page A

argued into it?”
    “Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?”
    “By all means,” cried Bingley, “let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size, for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places, at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has nothing to do.”
    Mr Darcy smiled, but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense. Though Miss Bennet enjoyed their debate, she had no desire to cause Mr Darcy offence. She respected the gentleman, and even though his personality was at times coarse, she felt an affinity with him she did not want to cheapen by insulting him afore his friends. When their eyes met she hoped her soft smile conveyed her feelings on the matter. But in his eyes there was only warmth. No, heat . She looked away quickly lest the others notice her reaction to him. But his intense stare had caused her heart to race unbidden and a deep ache bloomed in her core. Even though she redirected her eyes to the needlework once again, she could sense his lingering gaze and it made her hotter still, made her breath quicken until she felt there was no air left in the room. Why did he have such an effect on her? Elizabeth could not understand why he would look upon her so, why he had kissed her. He had made his feelings about her perfectly clear, had he not? Finally his attention shifted to his friend.
    “I see your design, Bingley,” said he. “You dislike an argument, and want to silence this.”
    “Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful, and then you may say whatever you like of me.”
    “What you ask,” said Elizabeth, “is no sacrifice on my side, and Mr Darcy had much better finish his letter.”
    Elizabeth was grateful when Mr Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter. After a short while, her breathing slowed until it returned to its normal pace.
    When that business was over, Mr Darcy applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth for an indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with some alacrity to the pianoforte, and, after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the way which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself.
    Mrs Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus employed, Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr Darcy’s eyes were fixed on her still. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great a man, and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her, was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, at last that she drew his notice because there was something more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. She must surely have mistaken the sentiment behind his constant scrutiny. Anger and irritation were far more likely contenders than lust. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation. Or was she deceiving herself? The way she had sunk into his arms and let him hold her through the kiss, their bodies pressed together so that she could feel his hardness, had spoken for itself.
    After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by