Page 30 of The Slipper Scandal
"Enter," he called, straightening his posture and composing his features into what he hoped was an expression of calm authority.
The knob turned, but the door was still locked. Darcy cursed softly. “Just a moment.”
Fitzwilliam strolled in once the lock had been turned, looking far too cheerful for Darcy's current mood.
"Cousin," Fitzwilliam greeted him with an exaggerated bow. "I have come to offer my condolences on your pitiful attempt at gallantry this morning."
Darcy grimaced. "I would prefer not to discuss it."
"No doubt, but I believe it requires thorough examination," Fitzwilliam replied, dropping into a leather armchair with casual ease. "You are usually a precise, strategic man, though womencan make fools of us all. We must analyse where your approach failed if you are to improve."
"There is nothing to analyse," Darcy said stiffly. He had already identified the problem, and there was no solution. "I intended a compliment and delivered an insult. The matter is concluded."
Fitzwilliam chuckled. "Do you know, I quite like your Miss Bennet. Most ladies would have simpered and pretended to be flattered no matter what you said. She called you directly to account."
"She would not be my Miss Bennet if she had the choice,'" Darcy replied automatically, though even to his own ears, the protest lacked conviction.
"Ah, but she does not, which is perhaps fortunate for you."
"Neither of us would have chosen these circumstances."
Fitzwilliam studied him for a moment, his normally jovial expression turning serious. "And yet, you have not broken the engagement. Nor, from what I observed, has she."
Darcy resumed his pacing. "It would cause a scandal."
"Since when has Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley concerned himself with what the gossips are spewing? You have ignored the expectations of society at every turn, refused to dance at assemblies, declined invitations from the most prestigious hostesses, and generally behaved as though the ton's opinion matters not at all."
"This is different."
"Yes," Fitzwilliam agreed. "Because your heart is involved. And because an innocent lady's reputation is at stake, not merely your own."
Darcy halted his pacing and turned to face his cousin. "She is unlike any woman I have ever met."
"Because she deposited a fish in your lap?" Fitzwilliam suggested with a poorly suppressed grin.
"As humiliating as that moment was, I understand why she did it. No, because she is forthright without being crude, rational without being pedantic, and spirited without being wild," Darcy replied, giving his cousin a quelling look.
“She is alittlewild, Darcy.”
"She speaks her mind rather than simpers, and she has an excellent mind so far as I can tell."
"And she is remarkably pretty," Fitzwilliam added.
"Her eyes are extraordinary," Darcy admitted with a sigh. Had he not just been thinking of them? "Particularly when she is amused or outraged."
Fitzwilliam laughed. "You have spent a great deal of time observing her eyes in both states of emotion, it seems.”
Darcy sank into the chair behind his desk. "I fear she must detest me."
"Do you? I cannot say I agree. Today I observed a lady who was annoyed and embarrassed, certainly. Perhaps as you were when you were wearing your dinner. But detestation? No, I saw none of that."
"You did not hear the disdain in her voice when I attempted to explain my earlier comment. And frankly, I deserved it. I do not know why I cannot speak sense around her."
"Ah, yes. 'The effort is noted, sir,'" Fitzwilliam quoted, mimicking Miss Bennet’s crisp tones with disconcerting precision. "That was rather cutting. But not, I think, indicative of contempt."
Darcy raised an eyebrow. "What would you call it, then?"
"Self-defence," Fitzwilliam said simply. "You had, after all, just told her she looked unwell when you first met her. Most ladies take great pains with their appearance, particularly at a ball. To be told one has failed in that regard is no small matter. She did not wish to have her feelings hurt again."
