With a most unladylike scream, Elizabeth jumped up and danced around in absolute delight, even emulating her mother by crying,“Two sisters married!”She was overjoyed, and wondered when she might welcome Mrs Jameson?
She danced around the room once more and knelt to admire the fine construction. She would write to Jane at once, after spending a few minutes admiring the craftsmanship and dwelling on her sister’s happiness.
Shadows
Elizabeth still knelt beside the dollhouse when the bell rang again, and much to her surprise, in came Mr Darcy—alone.
Startled, she rose with as much grace as she could muster.
She dropped a curtsey and tried not to sound startled. “Mr Darcy!”
The gentlemanstalkedinto the room. Elizabeth could produce no other word for his manner. His brow was furrowed in… in…something. On another man, it might have been nervousness, but she discarded the notion, leaving herself with nothing but confusion.
The boxes seemed to surprise him, and the dollhouse in the centre of the mess to intrigue him. He stared at it a moment before recollecting himself enough to offer the basic courtesies.
“Miss Bennet, I heard you were ill and called to enquire after your health.”
The very concept of Mr Darcy, of all people, walking half a mile to enquire after a lady who complained of a mere headache seemed odd at the very least.
“I am well. It was only a headache, and I am fully recovered.”
“I am happy to hear it.”
He kept glancing at the dollhouse, so she decided to either satisfy his curiosity or at least reduce his obvious agitation.
“I see you are intrigued by my gift. This arrived within the hour from London. What do you think?”
Much to her surprise, he leaned over and at least pretended to examine it.
Even more shockingly, he dropped to one knee to inspect it closely. “May I examine the underside of the roof?”
“By all means,” said she, caught completely off guard.
He lifted the roof and examined the underside for a moment before setting it gently back where he found it.
“As I thought! This is a Jameson, is it not?”
The question inordinately surprised Elizabeth.
“I believe it might be. Are you familiar with them?”
He looked up at her a moment, considering.
“I know a little, though I am not an expert. They are made by a man a decade my father’s senior, with the odd name of John Jonah Jameson. He is considered a bit eccentric among thetonbecause he will not make a dollhouse for someone he does not respect. My sister has one at Pemberley my father bought for her just after she was born, but Lady Catherine still fumes that he would not sell her one for Anne.”
Uncertain how to respond, Elizabeth said, “I am all astonishment at your knowledge of dollhouses.”
“I have been my sister’s guardian these 5 years, so that might seem the most likely reason, but it would not be entirely correct. In truth, Mr Jameson sent his son to Cambridge, in the hope that he might buy an estate and enter the landed gentry one day. His son was 3 years behind me, so I did not know him well, but he is a good fencer, and we sparred from time to time. He beat me far more often than the converse. It is also possible we may have shared a glass or two of port or chess game on occasion.”
Curious, Elizabeth asked, “And what do you think of him?”
Darcy finally met her eyes with another expression she could not read. “I thought well of him. We have not spoken in years, but I believe he may be nearing his purchase.”
Elizabeth thought she must ask her soon-to-be brother, as Jane had neglected to mention anything of the sort. How odd that Mr Darcy should know Mr Jameson.Should she enlightenthe gentleman about the connection?She decided to let sleeping dogs lie.
Darcy bent over the dollhouse and ran his fingers along the edges of the maze. “I suspect the shell was made by the father. It would be quite valuable.”
“Valuable?”
