Page 64 of Twice Chosen

"At you?"

"With me."

Darcy knew the distinction. He also knew it was not always as clean as Mr. Bennet imagined.

The old alliance between father and favorite daughter had often been built at the expense of others. Elizabeth had regretted it deeply.

"Perhaps she wants more from you," Darcy said.

Mr. Bennet's brows rose. "An audacious answer from a guest."

"You asked."

"No, I did not."

Darcy almost smiled.

Mr. Bennet did too. "You intend to marry her."

Not a question.

Darcy met his gaze. "Yes."

"Have you asked?"

"Not yet."

"Why?"

"She asked me to court her."

Mr. Bennet went very still.

Darcy realized what he had said. "I mean--"

"My daughter asked you to court her?"

"No."

Darcy rubbed his forehead.

This was going badly.

"We agreed--"

Mr. Bennet stared.

Darcy stopped.

"Good God," he muttered.

A laugh escaped Mr. Bennet, then another. He leaned back and laughed until he had to remove his spectacles.

Darcy glared.

Mr. Bennet wiped his eyes. "I beg your pardon."

"You do not."