Page 68 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

MACEY

A letter from Macey to Zane, Friday, September 20, 12:23 a.m.

Dear Mr. Darcy,

It BEHOOVES me to address a most grievous offense: your complete and utter decimation of the banoffee ice cream tonight. Truly, sir, such an act constitutes nothing short of treason.

The only proper remedy for this heinous crime is to procure more at once. Send your valet, rouse the village grocer, or, if you must, churn it yourself. If my demands are not met, I shall be forced to take drastic measures—such as pilfering your dessert at the next opportunity.

Yours in addiction,

Miss Bennet

“MR. DARCY, THIS IS MOST unexpected,” I say when Zane barges into the sitting room at the parsonage where I’ve been sitting at a small desk, writing a letter, which is really me just doodling my name and drawing tiny connecting flowers. I hope Lady Catherine doesn’t want to read it after the reenactment.

She appears to have recovered from the broken crystal glass and my ruining of her scene, because it was business as usual this morning when she gave us her direction.

“This scene is the turning point,” she said, right before we started. “Mr. Darcy confesses his love but does so in a way that insults Miss Bennet—quite the paradox, isn’t it? Miss Bennet, you must wield your words like a blade, striking where it hurts most. And Darcy—you must falter. We must see your pride crumble under the weight of rejection. This is not just any moment; it isthemoment. You must do it justice.”

Well, of course I’m going to do the part justice. We’re nearing the end here. All the good stuff is about to happen. After this I will receive his letter, then visit Pemberley, where I will find out about Lydia’s elopement. Tomorrow Jane and Bingley get engaged, and then I get to confront Lady Catherine, and after that, Darcy proposes again.

“I shall not detain you long,” Zane says. “There is something of great importance I must say, and I cannot bear the thought of leaving it unsaid.”

“Then please, speak plainly, Mr. Darcy.”

“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” he says.

Ah, some of the most famous Darcy words. I knew in Lady Catherine’s script she wouldn’t leave us without that line. I can see her in my peripheral vision, mouthing the dialogue along with us. It feels very small in here with the three of us—so small that the other guests are watching from outside the windows, which have been opened for them to listen in.

I blink my eyes at Zane, like I’m supposed to. He looks handsome as always today, in the navy jacket he wore earlier this week, his cravat tied perfectly at his neck. In only two days more, we’ll take off these costumes and it will be just us again. Maceyand Zane. Where will that leave us when we get back? Zane has some big decisions to make, and I ... have to staple papers.

“Against my better judgment, against the expectations of my family, my rank, and my own pride—I find myself unable to resist you,” he says, and I twist my mouth to keep from smiling, which has him looking away from me. I’ve distracted him.

He clears his throat before going on. “From the moment I first saw you, your wit, your intelligence, your spirit have captivated me.”

“And yet,” I say, pulling it together. “It appears I must ask forgiveness for inspiring such an unwanted attachment.”

He frowns, as the script instructed. “Unwanted? Miss Bennet, you cannot be unaware of the depth of my feelings. Despite your family’s ... improprieties, your lack of connections ...”

“Stop, Mr. Darcy,” I hold out a hand, though honestly, with the earnest look in his eyes and how freaking handsome he is in the blue coat he’s wearing, I kind of just want to ruin the scene, say yes, jump into his arms, and have him carry me off into the sunset.

But I don’t, because I actually ruined a scene last night and I think Lady Catherine would probably lose it if I ruined this one too.

“If this is the language of love, then I confess I have never heard it spoken so poorly,” I say.

“I do not mean to insult you,” he says.

“And yet you do, with every word. Do you think I would accept an offer made out of condescension? One that belittles my family, my position, and myself? That disregards my sister’s happiness—her chance at love—for the sake of your own pride? That allows a man such as Mr. Wickham to suffer at your hands?” I spit out the words, doing a very fine job, if I say so myself.

“I ...,” he starts, but then he’s staring at me. I think he’s forgotten his line. I’m about to help him like I did at the dance, but he shakes his head, standing a little taller. “I have spoken poorly; I see that now. But my intentions are sincere. I offer you my heart, my fortune, and my life.”

“And I refuse them all,” I say resolutely.

That’s twice in two days that I’ve turned down a proposal, playing Elizabeth. It strikes me how empowering it is to say exactly how you feel, without apology or hesitation. It’s kind of liberating. Because if this were me, I’d probably think I should turn him down, but when I went to open my mouth, I’d say “Sounds good.” Maybe I need to channel a bit more Lizzy Bennet in my life. Oh, that would make a good T-shirt.

“Very well, Miss Bennet. I shall take my leave,” Zane says before giving me a quick bow of his head.

“Goodbye, Mr. Darcy,” I say and watch as he walks out the door, our little audience clapping for him as he steps outside. He gives them a small bow that makes me smile.

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