Page 25 of Not Without Me, Miss Elizabeth

He almost smiled at her tone. "I confess I had never considered the matter from your point of view, Miss Elizabeth. I believe I have made a great many assumptions about the women of my acquaintance, without ever pausing to consider how differently education might serve them, were it only offered."

Elizabeth could not suppress a small, satisfied laugh. "I am glad to hear it, sir. Women can prove surprising creatures, given the chance."

"So I am learning," Darcy replied, smiling at her evident pleasure, though Elizabeth was unable to see it.

His answer brought her a deep and unexpected satisfaction. She felt, for the first time in a long while, truly heard. Aside from her father, whose recognition of women's difficulties was tempered always by a certain wearyresignation. She had never spoken with a man on such matters at all, let alone one willing to own his own blindness so readily. That this proud, exacting man, so fond of being right, should admit himself mistaken, and confess so plainly that he was still learning, left her strangely hopeful, and strangely eager, besides, to go on teaching him.

They fell again into companionable silence, each turning over what had passed between them. Mr. Darcy sat with his gaze fixed upon the wall before him, while Elizabeth returned her attention to the leather binding, which had begun, at last, to yield.

Some ten minutes later, he cleared his throat. "Miss Elizabeth, I find myself with a rather unusual request, and I am afraid it cannot be helped."

She frowned slightly, perplexed at his statement, "What is it you require, Mr. Darcy?"

He paused for a moment, before responding, "It is…” Another pause, “I am sorry tosay, a matter of some delicacy."

CHAPTER 13

“Miss Elizabeth, but I find myself in urgent need of the chamber pot.”

Elizabeth blinked, then nodded at once, feeling an instant blush on her cheeks. She put her head down, unable to look the man in the eyes and said, “Oh. Of course, Mr. Darcy.”

She searched beneath the bed and, after some difficulty, managed to draw it out. Her fingers were still not entirely free, and the awkwardness of the task did little to improve her composure.

“Might I trouble you to set it in the corner there?” Darcy asked, inclining his head toward the farthest corner of the room.

“Certainly.” She placed it where he indicated, trying not to think of the indelicacy of the entire ordeal.

Darcy rose and crossed toward the door. Elizabeth watched him with some confusion. “What are you doing?”

He struck the door firmly with his knee, “Hello! Is anyone there?”

Footsteps sounded in the passage. A moment later, a rough voice answered from the other side, “What d'ye want?”

“Sir, I have need to relieve myself,” said Darcy in a raised voice.

There was a brief silence. Then the man gave an ugly laugh, “Ye've got yer lassy to see to that, ain't ye?”

The footsteps retreated before Darcy could answer. And, for several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Elizabeth stared at the closed door, scarcely knowing whether to be horrified or amused. Beside her, Darcy remained perfectly still, his jaw tightening as the silence stretched.

At last, Elizabeth looked toward him, “I believe,” she said carefully, “that was intended as an insult.”

“I had reached much the same conclusion,” he replied with a frown.

Despite herself, she felt the corner of her mouth lift.

Darcy noticed, looking and sounding more sternly than ever. “Miss Elizabeth.”

She replied quickly, avoiding his eyes. “I beg your pardon.”

Darcy looked mortified, and somewhat upset, as he accused her.“You are laughing.”

Elizabeth, for her part, raised her cuffed wrists to her mouth, attempting to hide any form of a smile, “I am not.”

He stared at her with keen eyes, and an altogether serious demeanor, “You most certainly are.”

She replied again, trying to quell the ridiculousness she found in the situation before her, “I assure you, Mr. Darcy, I am attempting to be sympathetic.”