"I will pay for the catering, of course," Darcy says.
"No." Elizabeth smiles. Like she's a whole different person. Like there's a stranger sitting at Darcy's table. "No. Jane and I are organizing this party, we'll pay, hey, look at the time, I must go. Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me."
She rises. She pays for her drink.
She disappears.
Her cup of coffee on the table, half full. Darcy had thought of this for hours—meeting her, talking to her. And now he—
He shattered it all. He showed her. He got rid of—
(Good.)
He gets back to work. "All done?" the waiter asks a minute later, Darcy nods.
Yes. Done.
He works.
Pemberley, Pemberley the Foundation, needs his attention.
Pemberley, Pemberley the mansion, in the country, doesn't need much. Still. Taxes. Roofs. Georgiana to keep track of. In case she. (Restless. Depressed.)
Georgiana. Elegance. Manners. Excellent education. The opposite of—
Some could say, Darcy was the one being rude today. Some could say, he was the one inelegant. Some could say, Elizabeth's reaction was… Her manners were perfect.
They don't get it.
(He sure showed her.)