“Miss Elizabeth, at the assembly, you overhead a remark I made in which I stated that I chose not to dance with you because you were tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt me. Even if the statement had been true, it was incredibly rude to have uttered it, and I have come to apologize.”

Mr. Darcy’s confession came as a complete surprise to Lizzy, but she now understood the reason for his struggle. He was not in the habit of admitting he had erred.

“Your apology is accepted, Mr. Darcy. I appreciate that you took the trouble to come to tell me in person that I am more than tolerable,” Lizzy said, half laughing at his clumsy effort to repair any damage resulting from his comment.

Darcy winced at her response. “I can assure you that I find you to be much more than tolerable, Miss Elizabeth. You are a very handsome woman, and I might have had an opportunity to express such a sentiment if I had sought an introduction. However, I do not have the talent of conversing easily with those whom I have never seen before. I cannot appear to be interested in their concerns as others do, and I find I have little patience for the type of discourse one hears at these dances.”

“What type of discourse is that, Mr. Darcy?”

“The usual banter about weather and roads and other such things that are of little interest to me,” and leaning forward in his chair, he continued, “Whether it be Meryton or London, I hear the same conversations. A lady will comment on the number of couples in attendance at a dance, and the gentleman will respond by mentioning the size of the ballroom. And what, pray tell, do we learn from that exchange? One party is good with measurements, and the other can count.”