“It is no matter,” she finished the small treat, then delicately nibbled the sweet residue from her fingers as she blinked playfully back to him. His eyes rounded as he watched her, apparently transfixed by her dreadful manners. He turned jerkily away, clearing his throat at least twice.
Elizabeth ought to have been ashamed of herself, but really, what else was a lady to do? She could not have refused the sweet roll in good conscience, nor could she have gone about her day with sticky fingers! Perhaps she might have done it more discreetly, but rarely had she found anyone who was so much fun to tease. Besides, it was not as if she had any intention of impressing him, nor even any expectation that she would ever see him again.
He put away the wrapping papers with fingers of his own which were now mysteriously clean, coughed one last time, and addressed her in a perfectly civilised tone. “It seems we have little more to do but converse, so may I be so bold as to ask what is the nature of your visit to Town? You have spoken more than once of wishing to enjoy the city as if you have never before had the opportunity. Yet, you seem familiar enough with our surroundings.”
“I may have–” she sighed, the last traces of sweetness fleeing from her tongue as pleasant thoughts evaporated. “Let me simply say that the future is uncertain, and I wish to enjoy my life as much as I can before I shall find it necessary to make some difficult decisions.”
He fell silent for a few moments, and occasionally she felt those dark, thoughtful eyes turning her way, but he held his peace. After a bit of quiet reflection, he suggested in a lighter tone, “Perhaps milady wished to see something beyond this inauspicious little park. I hope I have not dashed your entire day.”
“I have no great designs. We saw a performance at the theatre last night, and I had hoped today that we might explore Vauxhall Gardens, but as the day has seemingly gone so poorly for my uncle, I think it impossible. It is a pity, for I doubt we shall have another opportunity during my stay.”
“Vauxhall? You do know that the Gardens are in a state of decline, do you not? I do not wish to be the bearer of bad tidings for one who has heard but never seen, yet they are nothing to their heyday of my father’s generation.”
“Nevertheless, they still boast sights I could not see in Meryton. My aunt and uncle have very kindly engaged themselves to fulfil my silly wishes as best they can. Though it may be impossible, and even a disappointment if I should go, I am grateful that they have tried. Perhaps you can tell me something of the Gardens, so that I may enjoy the scene vicariously. You have been, have you not?”
He turned to extract the coin purse from his pocket and then drew out a small medallion. “I hold a season admission, but I have not been there in five years.”
“But you carry the token in your pocket at all times?”
“It is a memento of sorts. Perhaps it is odd, I confess. I purchase one every year, but I have no desire to go.”
“That is a pity! Would not your sister relish the chance to spend the day with you in such an environ? It seems to me that giving her a day of pleasure in your company might do much for relations between the two of you.”
“Perhaps it would,” he admitted as he replaced his coin purse. “I confess, I had never thought of it.”
“Do you think she would like it? What would be her favourite part?”
“The Garden walk, most certainly, and the Cascade, I suspect. But she would take the most pleasure from the bucolic setting. She enjoys flowers, a trait she inherited from our mother. She has a quiet, contemplative nature, and I believe she finds them peaceful.”
“I had expected you to say she would enjoy the musical entertainment and the acrobatics. There are still performers, are there not? Are they really so marvellous as I have heard?”
“Yes, and she would certainly take her delight in them, but she would tire of the noise quickly. I do not mean to imply that she is a recluse, but she does not enjoy crowds of people.”
“I wonder if that is also the reason you no longer attend, sir.”
He peered cautiously down at her. “Miss Bennet, you have a disturbing capacity to sketch my character. Are you always so perspicacious?”
She laughed. “I believe, sir, that your words are really less a confession than an attempt to distract me from asking more personal questions. You cannot pretend that you never enjoyed the Gardens yourself, not with that token in your pocket, so what was your favourite part? Remember, you must describe it very clearly, for I may never see it with my own eyes.”
A wistful smile warmed his face, and he gazed into the trees. “I expect you will think me a sentimental bore.”
She gestured expansively about their little nook in the foliage. “We have nothing to do but wait, and I would very much enjoy hearing your tale.”
“There is not much to tell. When last I visited, I was in the company of my father. He died less than a month later. It had been his wish to visit one last time because he had such fond memories of my mother there from the early days of their marriage. I am afraid I have not been back since.”
Elizabeth fell into silence. His expression had turned sombre, and he still gazed into the treetops. “I think—” she ventured. He looked back to her, one brow raised as he waited for her. “I think your parents were fortunate indeed. It is a fine thing to treasure one’s life partner.”
The lines around his mouth softened in pleased surprise at her observations. “Fortunate they were, Miss Bennet. Would that all others could be so blessed.”
“Ho! There you are!” called a voice behind them.
Elizabeth and her footman both turned. The man she had seen earlier in the morning, Fitzwilliam if she remembered properly, approached with long, jaunty strides and a cheerful smile. He removed his hat with a flourish as he entered their little alcove under the tree. “Miss Bennet, it is a pleasure to see you again. I wonder, might I share a word with your manservant?”
Elizabeth glanced at the taller of the two and could not help but chuckle slightly at the dark look of annoyance which had passed over his features. “Indeed, sir.”
Chapter sixteen
“Isee you have won the favour of your fair lady.” Richard jerked his head back toward the bench where Miss Bennet sat. “At least she was smiling this time, rather than threatening to slap you.”
