Darcy set the papers aside with deliberate care. “You met her.”
“I did,” Richard said promptly. “And I should like to meet her again.”
Darcy’s brows knitted before he could stop himself. Richard noticed—and smiled.
“Before you bristle,” Richard added, amused, “I do not mean in the manner that would alarm you. I mean only that she is…uncommon.”
“That,” Darcy said after a pause, “is an accurate description.”
Richard leaned forward slightly. “You know, I have danced with many handsome women. I have spoken with many agreeable people. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is not remarkable merely because she is pretty—though she is—but because she thinks.”
Darcy’s expression softened despite himself.
“She does,” Darcy said quietly.
Richard nodded. “I suspected as much. I tested the theory.”
Darcy’s gaze sharpened. “Tested?”
“Gently,” Richard assured him. “I spoke with her at Lucas Lodge—briefly, while you were otherwise engaged—and I mentioned the Peninsula.”
Darcy’s eyes flicked up. He had scarcely left Elizabeth’s side all night. When had his cousin managed it? “You did not burden her with tactics and troop movements, I hope.”
“On the contrary,” Richard said, smiling, “I mentioned the Battle of Talavera.”
Darcy’s interest was thoroughly engaged now.
“And do you know what she said?” Richard continued. “She asked whether the reports in theGazettewere accurate in describing the terrain as the greatest impediment to victory rather than the French artillery.”
Darcy stared at him.
“I beg your pardon?” he said slowly. He had not attempted such heavy subjects with Elizabeth, though it should not surprise him that she was so well informed.
“She had read multiple accounts,” Richard went on, clearly enjoying himself now. “She remarked that one correspondent emphasized the heat and dust more than the enemy and wondered whether fatigue had been as formidable an adversary as Marshal Victor.”
Darcy let out a breath he had not realized he was holding.
“I have had officers under my command,” Richard said, his tone more reflective now, “who could not have held that conversation with half so much sense.”
Darcy looked toward the fire.Of course she could,he thought.Why should that shock me?
“She did not pretend expertise,” Richard added. “She asked questions. Intelligent ones. And she listened to the answers, which is rarer still.”
Darcy nodded once. “She listens,” he agreed. “And she remembers.”
Richard studied him closely. “You admire her.”
Darcy did not deny it. “I respect her.”
Richard smiled. “That is worse.”
Darcy shot him a look. “Explain yourself.”
“Respect endures,” Richard replied calmly. “Infatuation burns hot and fast. Esteem settles in the bones.”
Darcy said nothing.
After a moment, Richard spoke again, more gently. “I am not blind, cousin. You are more at ease here than you were in London. You speak freely and you do not perform.”
