Miss Ashford blinked. “Oh. How kind.”
Elizabeth smiled. “One hates to be the only one paying such compliments so early in the evening, of course. But it is a risk worth taking.”
What the devil was she about now?Darcy’s fingers tightened on his cup, and he did not dare to look at her directly.
“Mr. Darcy,” she added, at last meeting his gaze, “you look as though you are enjoying yourself immensely.”
“I am bearing it well, I hope.”
“Oh, admirably,” she said. “You might almost pass for a man engaged in meaningful conversation.”
“Almost.”
Miss Ashford looked briefly unsettled, then rallied. “We were just discussing the Orphans’ Benefit. Mama is on the patronage list, you know.”
“Ah,” said Elizabeth, with the tone of someone admiring a particularly earnest puppy. “A noble cause.”
“Oh yes. I even visited one of the homes. They are terribly small—everything in miniature, really. It is difficult to know what to say to a person the size of a tea tray. I brought gingerbread and left it in the vestibule.”
“How thoughtful,” Elizabeth said, eyes twinkling with polite peril.
“And I have already ordered my gown for the benefit. Blue and silver. One must strike the proper note.”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “Then the event is saved. I imagine the orphans will sleep easier knowing their guardians are embroidered in silver and blue.”
Darcy very nearly choked on his tea.
Elizabeth turned to him. “Mr. Darcy, are you unwell?”
“Perfectly well, Miss Bennet.”
“Good. I should hate to think you were rendered speechless by embroidery.”
Miss Ashford looked puzzled. “We were speaking of orphans.”
“Were you?” Elizabeth said lightly. “Then I must have misunderstood. I had assumed you were about to tell me the name of your modiste.”
Silence followed. A long one.
Miss Ashford rose. “I believe I see someone I ought to greet. Excuse me.”
She walked off, posture just a shade too stiff for comfort.
Elizabeth turned back, face composed but eyes dancing with mischief. “Was that helpful?”
Darcy exhaled slowly. “She was nearly out of things to say. I feared she was about to quote Pope again.”
“Then I saved you.”
“I am not helpless.”
“No,” Elizabeth said. “Only doomed.”
“I thought you were supposed to behelpingme,” he retorted testily.
She smiled right back. “I did. You are welcome.”
He could not help it. He smiled—just barely. “Miss Ashford is a perfectly respectable choice.”
