“Oh, you are very silly, Lizzy. Steal a bulky painting or a fragile teapot from the house when he could have ready money just by raiding the chicken coop? You have a strange concept of what a burglar’s job is.”
“Yes, I suppose so. You are right—if a man had no scruples about stealing, it would make more sense simply to take the coins.”
“Privately?” Charlotte grinned and looked over her shoulder, then bent her head close to mine. “I hope I catch him trying to break into Lucas Lodge.”
I slanted an eyebrow at her. “Why would that be?”
“I hear he’s handsome, and so far, every lady he has stolen from can only blush when she is asked about their encounter. I amfearfullycurious how he manages it!”
“I have a fair idea,” I retorted dryly.
Charlotte giggled. “So do I, but that does not mean I do not wish to test my theory.”
“You are a dreadful hoyden!”
“No. I am only practical. I am twenty-seven years old, and no man has ever kissed me.”
“Oh, come now. You cannot meannever. Why, every sixteen-year-old plays kissing games at house parties and contrives a way to ‘accidentally’ get caught under the mistletoe.”
“Yes, and I was always chosen as the lookout in case Mama should walk in.” She sighed. “No one ever wanted to stand under the mistletoe with me because my eyes are pale, and I had too many freckles. Likely none ever shall, but if I should encounter this amorous bandit, I expect he would do the job creditably. And now, you have not yet told me about—”
Charlotte broke off when we heard Hill open the door to someone in the hall. Heavy, uneven footsteps followed, then Mr. Collins’ ponderous shape filled the doorway to the sitting room. He was out of breath from too much walking, and he dabbed his forehead with a limp handkerchief. “Ah, cousin Elizabeth! Is your father at his leisure? I should very much like to speak with him.”
“I believe he was tending to some correspondence and wished for privacy.”
He looked crestfallen. “It is most urgent that I speak with him. Lady Catherine will not countenance much delay in coming to the point. I—”
“Mr. Collins,” I interrupted, “allow me to introduce you to my good friend, Charlotte Lucas. Charlotte, this is my father’s cousin, William Collins.”
He barely looked at Charlotte, but she, most decidedly, was looking at him. I could not say why, for he was not much to look at. But Charlotte was smiling most indecorously and even touching the curls at the side of her face as she greeted him.
“I ammostpleased to make your acquaintance, sir,” she crooned. “My, what a splendid speaking voice you have. Your parishioners are fortunate, indeed, to have the pleasure of hearing you each Sunday.”
He nodded absently. “Yes, they are. Lady Catherine said as much. Miss Elizabeth, have you any notion of how long Mr. Bennet will be? I cannot delay long.”
“Oh, but would you not be more comfortable waiting here with us?” Charlotte offered. “The pot is still hot, and I would be happy to serve you myself. You look like a man who takes two or perhaps three lumps with his tea.”
“Three,” he agreed as he pulled his pocket watch out. He never even looked up when Charlotte ran her tongue lightly over her upper lip at him.
I blinked at her. “Charlotte!” I hissed. “Whatever are youdoing?”
“Quiet, Lizzy,” she whispered back, her mouth scarcely breaking from that ridiculous leer. “I would settle for a parson if I cannot have the burglar.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake. He’s barely human. He slurps his tea!”
“But I bet he can kiss. Look at those plump preacher’s lips! And from the looks of things…” she titled her head to examine him from all angles. “He could use some instruction in the art. I think I might actually be more experienced than he is.”
“You just told me you had never kissed anyone!”
“Exactly.” She kept smiling and touching her hair, but Collins hardly noticed. He was too busy checking his pocket watch and staring across the hall at the door to my father’s library. After a few minutes, he appeared to give up and shuffled up the stairs.
“Charlotte, you cannot be serious,” I chided her.
“Who says I have to be serious? Admit it, Lizzy. If a handsome and charming man should walk up to you and take you in his arms, you cannot tell me you would not kiss him back.”
I swallowed and felt the blood draining from my face. “Of-of c-course not.”
“Hah! You are lying, Lizzy. I can always tell when your eyes get big like that, and your ears turn red. What is his name?”
