Mr. Darcy's Obsession Read Online Free PDF Page A

"Bingley said I offended you when we first met."
    She let out a melodious peal of laughter and then put on a mock scowl. "No, indeed. You offended me before we were even introduced."
    A tightness wound through his stomach. "I must apologize, then."
    Elizabeth shook her head. "Mr. Darcy, we both know you found Meryton society beneath you, and you did not care who knew it. And I would guess you feel the same way today."
    No one had ever spoken to him that way before, with such frankness yet amusement, but it hurt nonetheless. First Bingley, now Elizabeth. He put on his best indifferent look. "I am sorry I gave offense. I was not accustomed to country society." Even he could hear how cold and haughty his words sounded.
    Elizabeth tightened her hand on his arm. "And now I have offended you ," she said cheerfully. "So in that much we are equal."
    He could tell she was just jesting, playing with words as she always did, but the idea that she had ever thought ill of him still festered. "Yet you tolerate my company, Miss Bennet. Or perhaps you would prefer I depart."
    "No need for that, sir. You improve upon further acquaintance."
    It was like a knot had been released. "With such a beginning, I had no choice but to improve, did I not?"
    "And I have no choice but to tease such a perversely rational creature! I despise perfection, sir, and must puncture it whenever I can, since I am so full of imperfections myself."
    At least this time he managed to bite his tongue before he told her she was perfection itself. It was reassuring to know he had a trace of self-control left.
    ***
    Darcy poured himself a glass of brandy, then, remembering Bingley's words about drunkenness, put it down again. After a moment he took it up again and rolled the liquor around his mouth, feeling the pleasant heat of it travelling down his throat. He needed a drink, after such a day as he had.
    Elizabeth. He was in too deep with her. He should have seen it coming; after all, this was the same woman to whom he almost proposed marriage back at Rosings. He had lost his head over her then, and he was in danger of doing the same again. No, not in danger. He was well beyond that point.
    But it would not do. It was one thing to enjoy her company and flirt with her when no one else was aware of it, but Bingley had spoken truly of the cutting tongues of their social circle. He could not imagine what would be said if they knew he was keeping company with a milliner's sister, even if her father was a gentleman. They would assume she was his mistress. Marriage was out of the question. He would be a laughingstock, and no decent gentleman would so much as look at Georgiana. He could not afford to take any risk with her prospects, not now.
    Why, oh, why had he interfered between Bingley and Jane Bennet? It had been done for the best, but if he had not, Jane would be Mrs. Bingley, and Elizabeth would not now be beyond his reach. Truly he was being repaid in the same coin he had given Bingley.
    He took another sip of the brandy, but it did not help. He would have to stay away from Elizabeth Bennet. No more jaunts to Moorsfield, no more basking in her smiles as they walked along the paths, her gloved hand fitting perfectly on his arm. No more. No more.
    ***
    Elizabeth brushed a few stray snowflakes from her sleeves when she arrived at her uncle's warehouse. His clerk, Mr. Johnson, stood to greet her, his eyes cheery.
    "Miss Bennet, you brighten a gloomy day with your presence."
    She laughed at his flagrant flirtation and blew a snowflake off her glove in his direction. "It is winter, you know, so you must expect the gloomy days."
    "I shall not mind them in such company. May I take your wrap?"
    "I thank you, no. I am here for only a moment to deliver some papers my uncle left behind this morning. Would you be so kind as to tell him I am here?"
    "I fear I cannot oblige you, as he stepped out earlier. I expect him any minute, if you would care to wait, or I can give him the papers