Free Darcy's Passions by Regina Jeffers Page B

you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking.” At this point he left a pregnant pause to increase the drama of the situation. “If the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.”
    Take that, Elizabeth Bennet; the thought briefly slid across his mind. His eyes met Elizabeth’s, burrowing deep into the green pools and locking in a secret desire. Maintaining his gaze, Darcy heard Miss Bingley’s stunned response, “Oh! Shocking! I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”

    Darcy waited with anticipation for Elizabeth’s response. “Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.” He never expected she would dare to laugh at him.As much as he hoped to maintain her gaze, Darcy experienced a momentary glint of uncertainty and dropped his eyes, breaking the bond.
    Naturally, Miss Bingley could never speak ill of Darcy; she desired his good opinion too much to defy him on any subject. Elizabeth, carried away with the mirth of the situation, could not allow her love of nonsense to wane. “Mr. Darcy does nothing which might amuse his friends? I would not require many such friends for I dearly love a laugh.”
    Not able to abandon the serious armor, which served him well in the past, Darcy assumed an air of superiority as he said, “Miss Bingley has given me more credit than can be.The wisest and best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”
    Without thinking of its effect, Elizabeth, amused by her own cleverness, replied, “Certainly, there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them . I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without.”
    Having spent his life hating any form of weakness, Darcy’s affectionate gaze took on a steeled impalement; nearly biting the words, he said, “Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid such weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”
    â€œWhat sort of weaknesses, Mr. Darcy? Would, say, vanity or possibly pride be such a weakness?” she retorted.
    Swallowing hard, Darcy steadied himself before giving a response. “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.”
    Elizabeth’s suppression of a smile surprised Darcy. He found nothing amusing in what he said; he meant his response to be a
serious, diplomatic answer. He began to think she went too far. Amusing repartee was one thing, but he would not be her target, no matter what attraction he felt for this insipid miss. Miss Bingley regretted the beginning of this folly and begged an end to it. Elizabeth feigned innocence and coquettishly played down her affront. “I agree with you, Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy has no faults; perfection is within his reach.”
    â€œNo,” Darcy snapped. “I have made no such pretension,” he stammered. Elizabeth, obviously, knew nothing of superior society. “I have faults enough,” he continued, “but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost