Moments later, another figure in black skimmed towards her. To her horror, it was the detestable Darcy himself. He skidded to a halt before her, his taut, muscular body trapped within a black, rubbery wetsuit, and with a strange, manic look in his eye, stared at her for a full two minutes before speaking, whereupon he blurted out,
“It’s no good, Lizzy. I love you deeply and desperately.”
Now it was Lizzy’s turn to stare back with a strange, manic look in her eye. He went on.
“I realise your family is odious, your mother quite hideous, and your sisters outrageous, but for some nonsensical reason, I can’t help loving you deeply and desperately. What do you have to say?”
Lizzy’s astonishment was beyond expression. Despite her dislike of Darcy, she could not help to be a little flattered by such attentions. But then her anger rose.
He had made it quite clear that he liked her against his better judgement. Was this a compliment or an insult, she challenged.
“But even if my feelings had been favourable to you,” she continued, growing in fury, “do you think I could be tempted by the man who has ruined the happiness of a beloved sister, perhaps forever? And what is more, you have reduced another, Mr Wickham, to comparative poverty, withheld advantages designed for him, and deprived him of independence which was his due.”
Darcy grew pale.
“And this is your opinion of me?”
“I have no qualms in expressing my opinion. You have saved me the concern I might have felt in refusing you, if you had behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.”
Lizzy saw Darcy start at this and, feeling there was little more to be said, took the only course available to her and slapped him across the face. The force of her action caught Darcy off guard and he fell backwards into the water. Lizzy, not knowing what to do next, skimmed away as fast as she possibly could.