“I shall refrain from having any money changed for the moment.”
Monsieur Dessein laughed.“You’ll not find a more convenient way to change your money, but I confess, as I can see you have already established in your mind, you may find acheaperway to do so.Sign the register, and I will have you shown to your rooms, and then shown to the breakfast parlor where General Fitzwilliam and his aide are at present — both of you, please.”
Elizabeth frowned.“Is it necessary to sign?”
“Quite, I am afraid.”M.Dessein replied.“One of our local peculiarities.”
“Que faisiez-vous avec eux?”Elizabeth asked stiffly as she signed her false name of Mrs.Benoit.Elizabeth had apparently decided now was the time to practice her French, with a Frenchman.
M.Dessein tilted his head in confusion.
Elizabeth repeated her question, with an air of frustration.
“Ah,” M.Dessein replied in English, “Dear Madame, whilst your accent is perfect, I fear my hearing is poor.Perhaps you might repeat your question in your own noble language.”
Elizabeth laughed, and it made Darcy glad to hear that she could be distracted from her worries easily.“My accent is not perfect, while your hearing is, I suspect.”
“Were it so, I would not confess it,” M.Dessein replied with a smiling bow of his head.
“What is done with the register, why is it necessary to sign?”
“Ah the police require it of me, that I inscribe every stranger staying with me.My boy runs the pages down to thegendarmerieeach morning, so they can know who stayed the previous night, and then they copy out the names, and return the register.It simply means that if youdidcommit a crime, they would be able to find you.But, mademoiselle, the only crime a woman such as you could ever commit is the theft of a heart.”
Elizabeth laughed nervously, and made a pretense of blushing at the compliment.
They then went to the breakfast room, where General Fitzwilliam and Major Williams already sat over their coffee.
Chapter Eleven
Elizabeth looked around impressed by the breakfast and the room.
They’d dined in a private first floor room, overlooking the garden ten feet below.The garden must be splendid in spring, a proper English style courtyard garden, with lawns, ample beds of flowers and several varieties of trees.There was a fine fountain of a nymph ready to spit water to the skies.
The sky was grey, and so were the plants.All grey sticks with their leaves fallen off.
Inspired by the scene, Elizabeth intoned, “Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.”Darcy frowned at her worriedly, and she laughed.“There is hint of at least one early bloom in that garden, near the wall there, so not quite the proper poem.”
“Not proper at all.No dourness,” General Fitzwilliam said.He and Major Williams had risen at her entrance.“You are alive, and safe.”
“Safe enough.”Elizabeth nodded and she eagerly sat down to breakfast, finding herself drained by the meandering from the bay and down the crowded avenue that led to the hotel.
The table was piled high with food and drink.There were decorated carafes of coffee and small jugs of milk to pour into the coffee.There were brie cheeses, squares of mouth-watering butter sitting on small china plates, an ornamented jug of honey with a little bee on the outside, and piles of freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven.A few hothouse fruits were also available.There were French style tarts and a pile of croquants with almonds in them.
The smell of rich bread was divine, and Elizabeth had by now completely recovered from the nausea of her boat ride, and she was ravenously hungry.
Darcy busied himself filling a plate for Elizabeth.He delighted in asking her which of the breads looked the most appealing, and in quickly and expertly piling them with more melted butter and honey than she would have dared to give herself.
The coffee tasted fresh, and was mostly clear of grounds.Elizabeth wondered how Dessein managed to make such smooth coffee for all his guests, their cook when she had lived at Longbourn never had the patience to pour the cups back and forth, or use isinglass to clarify the grounds out of the coffee.
“Add more milk, Miss Bennet, more milk,” General Fitzwilliam demanded of Elizabeth after she took her first sip.“The French always take their coffee with an almost disgusting amount of milk —cafe au lait.You shall commit a crime against this fine country if you do not add more cream.”
Elizabeth laughed.“If it is a requirement of politeness.”
“Just ask in anycafeforcafe au lait.They also serve chocolate, tea — anything.It is quite the proper thing for women to frequent the French cafes, though I hear that was not so before the revolution.”
“I shallcertainlyin that case frequent one myself.”
Elizabeth did not want to think of money being spent for her entertainment by Darcy — since she assumed his cousin would leave him with the entirety of the bill at the hotel.
