Page 16 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
“But me, you don’t like me.”
She made a face, sinking back into the pillows of the bed. Then she started coughing again.
He began to back away. “I’m awfully sorry. I need to let you rest.”
“You most certainly do not. I have been resting all day, and I think I shall likely be awake all night because of it!”
He paused his movement.
“Anyway,youdon’t likeme,” she said.
“Well, that’s only because you don’t like me,” he said.
“Posh,” she said. “You have not liked me from the moment you clapped eyes on me.”
“Oh, I assure you, Miss Bennet, that isn’t true,” he said, and his voice had gone somewhat husky, embarrassingly.
She didn’t seem to notice. “I may have judged you harshly,” she said. “A man such as yourself, I thought you wouldn’t have been very intelligent, you see, because why bother being intelligent if you have no need of intelligence?”
“Everyone needs intelligence.” He was confused.
“Oh, you know what I mean.”
“I obviously do not.”
“Some people have everything already,” she said. “Servants and coaches and roast lamb and walls covered in fine art. And those people don’t need to do anything at all. They don’t need to know things or puzzle things out.”
“You think it’s easy seeing to an entire household of servants?” said Mr. Darcy. “You think that doesn’t take skill and intelligence?”
Her lips parted. She was silent.
“Apologies,” he said.
“No, I think I was in the midst of apologizing to you,” she said. “I rather bungled it. I’m not entirely skilled at delivering apologies, I’m afraid.”
He laughed softly.
“Youareintelligent, that is the thing,” said Elizabeth. “You have interesting things to say. That bit about dancing being a human attribute, not a sign of civilization, that is something I hadn’t quite thought of. Or the idea that perhaps our civilizations aren’t quite so advanced as we may think. Why, when you think of it, it is true that we have made many advances in all manner of things—look at the houses we build or carriages or even how much better firearms are getting—but in terms of society, has anything changed?”
“Well,” said Mr. Darcy, “I suppose fifty years ago, I should never have associated with someone like Bingley.”
“Yes, and I shouldn’t exist, for my father would never been able to marry my mother,” she said. “Is that the advancement, then, the idea of welcoming the money from trade?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “That does seem to be the way things are moving. I have investments in trade myself.”
“But society seems determined to keep things exactly as they are, and to bar the way from anyone who has not inherited their money.”
“Well, it isn’t working, is it?” He smiled at her.
She smiled back.
“I have a book written later than 1743 in my room,” he said. “I have just finished reading it. It’sThe Scottish Chiefs.”
“Oh, is that the one about William Wallace?” said Elizabeth.
“Would you like to borrow it?”
“Oh, if you please,” she said, putting aside the Shakespeare.
