“As your ladyship pleases. Your ladyship will naturally desire to wait in comfort while Miss Georgiana is sent for. The rose drawing-room at present enjoys the benefit of a robust blaze, and Miss de Bourgh, I believe, is fond of that room. Would your ladyship care for some refreshment?”
Lady Catherine settled somewhat. At last, they were getting somewhere! “That will suffice, and mind I am to be brought a cold water first. My doctor believes it good for the constitution, you know, and you must prevail upon your master to adopt my ways once he returns. Do not forget, Drake! My water is to be served with a slice of lemon—afreshone this time—and my tea with a sprig of mint off to the side. Peach, rather than strawberry preserves, if you please; my doctor says it is better for the digestion. And no scones! Your cook nearly broke my tooth last time.”
Within a few moments, the ladies had settled into the designated sitting room. Anne, appearing weakened by her journey, swayed very slightly against her companion. Lady Catherine puckered her worn lips in disdain. If Anne would only exhibit a little willpower and pluck up, she would be mistress of this house any day! It could not come soon enough, either. What disreputable ways the staff had got into! It was not this way in the days of her brother-in-law.
An agreeable warmth stole across her features. Oh, no, it was not like this at all in the days of dear old George. Back in those days, the staff grovelled properly at her feet. She had been sure he was on the brink of a proposal when he betrayed her for her younger sister. He had tried to make it up to her later, but it had been too little, too late for her forgiveness. Her lips coiled in resolve. She would see her daughter a Darcy, if not herself!
A freckled young maid appeared presently, wheeling a tea cart. “At last!” the great lady cried. “How long does it take to boil a pot of water? Your cook ought to be stoking her fires constantly! At Rosings, I never suffer the kitchen fire to be diminished in the slightest, even in the heat of the season,” she huffed scornfully.
“As your ladyship pleases,” the girl bobbed a cheeky curtsey.
“Where is my niece? She ought to be down by now! Go at once and summon her to take refreshment with us. Such a shameful lack of propriety and respect!”
“As your ladyship pleases,” the girl repeated, with a spunk entirely too plucky for decorum. She curtseyed again, and the noble guest quite positively detected a mutinous gleam in the maid’s eye.
“Go at once! I shall speak to the housekeeper if my niece is not brought to me instantly!”
“As your ladyship pleases,” the girl parroted as she backed out of the room.
“Such insolence!” she declared. “I never in all my days….” her eyes fell to the tea tray. She lifted her glass of water suspiciously. It was quite warm, and a sprig of mint floated listlessly near the surface. She clenched her teeth. What utter incompetence! Inspecting further, she discovered a small dish of wilted lemon wedges placed between the cream and sugar. Next to them, a towering stack of scones dolloped generously with strawberry preserves adorned the centre of the cart.
ElizabethhadacceptedDarcy’sarm in escort, a carefully composed expression lingering on her face as she did so. She was not yet ready to display any flicker of her improving regard for him, although she expected it was obvious by her lack of verbal attack this past hour and a half. She peeked at him discreetly beneath the hood of her warm cloak, watching with interest how the tension left his features as they gained distance between themselves and the house.
For his part, Darcy was busy scolding himself into gentlemanly conduct. It did not matter that countless layers of fabric and leather lay between them; Elizabeth’s taper fingers rested gently in the crook of his elbow, her beautiful curly head bobbing so fittingly by his side. Her smaller frame synchronized with his as they moved, and they stepped down the path in harmony.
He fought a little twinge of satisfaction from displaying itself in his manner. Elizabeth Bennet did not mince her steps, tiptoeing daintily like a lady of fashion. Rather, she strode purposefully, with decision, yet still carried herself with a modest, feminine grace which he found irresistible.
Though he kept his face resolutely up and forward, his eyes continually drifted to the apparition at his side. He strove valiantly to introduce some interesting topic of conversation to ease their short journey but continually drew a blank. It was Elizabeth, quite characteristically, who spoke first.
“Will you tell me now, sir, what it was which so suddenly caught your interest in my father’s documents?” She fixed him with that temptingly arch expression of hers, her beautiful face a warm radiance backdropped by the chill grey of their surroundings.
He cleared his throat gently, straightening his shoulders uncomfortably. “I did say that it would be your father’s prerogative to collect on the debt….”
“You did,” she answered carefully. “Or, in his indisposition, the duty falls to me. Yet, as I have asked your advice, it might be said that you have a place in the matter as well.”
“That is not quite what I meant,” he returned, warmed and surprised that she would be defending his involvement in her family’s affairs. “The debt can be collected… orotherarrangements can be made to satisfy it.” He let that statement linger, curiously watching the emotions playing across her lovely features.
Her able mind did not disappoint. Inspiration sparkled in those dark eyes, and she rose them to meet his gaze. “What do you have in mind?” she asked hopefully.
“That is why I wished to meet with him. As yet, I do not have a suitable suggestion, but I hope to be able to make a sound recommendation to you after our conversation. I wish to assess the man’s abilities. You speak so highly of him; it stands to reason that he must have other areas of expertise by which he might be able to both recompense the estate and provide for his family in the future.”
Elizabeth’s chocolate eyes crinkled in approval, an eloquent smile kindling. He returned it with goodwill. She was pleased with his ideas! He allowed himself just for a moment the very agreeable fantasy of taking Elizabeth Bennet as his confidante and partner, the one to whom he himself turned for advice and encouragement. Her lively intellect and warm loyalty could carry him through any difficulty. What a pleasure to closet himself for hours in his study with Elizabeth as his company, rather than his silent old hound!
Naturally, of course, after working through whatever quandaries they might face together, he would thank her—mostardently—for her devoted succour. What freedoms could then be his, as her husband? Elizabeth would be no mousy prig, waiting silently and diffidently for him to exert his marital rights and leave her be. Not she! No, if there were any difficulties with Elizabeth Bennet, it might be said that she was rather a woman of too much feeling! Though at present, her fiery and independent nature gave him great cause for anxiety, he had good reason to hope it would not always be so.
Elizabeth slyly peeped from beneath her hood after a few moments of awkward silence from Darcy. “May I ask, sir, what it is which amuses you so?”
Darcy’s face flushed guiltily, his mouth opening to form some apology that would not come. “Amuses me, Miss Bennet?” he tried to sound innocent, but his traitorous voice cracked as his throat constricted. “I cannot know what you mean.”
Elizabeth grinned challengingly, small pearly teeth peeking between those rosy lips. His heart, already agitated by his incongruous musings, performed a somersault and left him breathless. “Come, sir, I have not known you to bear such an agreeable expression without good cause! If it is your intention to improve my understanding of you, I would ask to be enlightened, if I may be so bold.”
“I do not think that would be wise, Miss Bennet,” he murmured huskily, a little twitter about the corner of his mouth.
“Very well, then, sir!” She lifted her chin airily and pretended to dismiss him. “I might add, however, that it is not atallgentlemanly to keep a secret from a lady.”
“It would be far less ‘gentlemanly’ to reveal my thoughts to that same lady, Miss Bennet.” He bent his head low, levelling an expressive and intimate smile.
Her eyes widened in convicted surprise as his meaning dawned. “Oh,” she whispered involuntarily. She looked hastily away and lapsed into silence, her breath quickening.
