Darcy was stunned. Flabbergasted. Utterly shocked. He was a baby deer staring down a hungry wolf. He stood stock still with his mouth hanging open for a full minute. He had no idea how to respond to Miss Elizabeth's accusations, how she could have such a terrible opinion of him, how she could literally glow with rage, or how he could cool her ire before she set fire to something. The only thing he did know was that, somehow, this was definitely his cousin's fault.
As he recovered himself, Darcy did the only thing he could think of in the moment: Deflect. "Richard! What did you do?", he shouted as he sidestepped Miss Elizabeth and approached his cousin with his own look of fury.
Colonel Firtwilliam raised his hands placatingly and began to slowly back away and to the side, trying to keep Miss Elizabeth between them. "Now Darcy, I was just talking you up to her like we discussed. I tried to point out what a good friend you are and it seems to have… backfired… somewhat…"
"Oh, you think so?!" roared Darcy.
"You were doing what?!" roared Elizabeth.
As Miss Elizabeth was the nearer danger, Colonel Fitzwilliam addressed her first. "Now, now, just calm down dear and I can explain everything."
"Calm down dear? CALM DOWN DEAR? And I thought your cousin was patronising! Are all men completely inept at addressing women without a clear script? DON'T answer that. You are not even worthy of my wrath."
Colonel Fitzwilliam stared wide-eyed between the now-disgusted face of Miss Elizabeth, and the still enraged face of his cousin, and decided that discretion is indeed the better part of valour. He dropped his hands, turned tail, and ran.