Instead of a laugh Elizabeth gave a strangled exclamation and, a weak smile, accompanied by a slight blush.
“I apologise, Lizzy, I did not realise it might be a sensitive subject. It is just that he seems such a changed man. I dug poor Mr Occam up from the garden, and he asserts that you must have set him on the right path while visiting Rosings. That is why I called himyour Mr Darcy.”
“That makes no sense. By the same logic, you could refer tomy Mr Jameson.”
Much to her consternation, that gentleman chuckled; she had mostly forgotten her future brother-in-law was listening.
“I do not oppose that scheme, Miss Lizzy. When you helped me with yourlittle boxes, I became your most ardent admirer. I shall soon be your brother, and should the need arise, yourprotector to the best of my ability. I am very happy to be called such, as long as you do not claim exclusivity.”
Elizabeth laughed, embarrassed by the entire conversation, and smiled at the couple to show she was not distressed.
“I suppose if that is all you meant, and it was mostly in jest, you may refer to him as such,privately. Please, by everything that is holy, do not ever say something like that among less discreet listeners. My reputation is fragile enough as it is.”
“Of course not, and I shall stop teasing about him entirely if you still hate him.”
Jane and her beau watched Elizabeth carefully. A wistful expression appeared, though neither could identify exactly what it was.
“Mr Darcy and I have… we have… I mean to say—”
A confused and stammering Elizabeth Bennet was a sight to behold. Thought storms were one thing; she was accustomed to those. She might go silent while her mind went in circles, but when she came out of her cave, she usually spoke clearly and forcefully. She had done so since childhood, even when what she said either made no sense at all, or made you want to tear your hair out—or hers. This confusion was new ground, and Jane could not say whether it was reassuring or worrying. She waited patiently, and at length was rewarded.
“As you suspect, Mr Darcy and I have had a fewawkward conversations. Actually, I have endured awkward conversations with almost everyone at Rosings except Anne’s companion. We are—”
She seemed to run out of words. The age-old signs of an incipient thought storm brewed, so Jane leaned nearer and asked softly, “You are? You arewhat, Lizzy?”
“I cannot truly say. I imagine we are friends, though ourfriendship, such as it is, would be considered quite odd. I guess… that is to say… well, I believe we understand one another.”
Jane gasped.
Elizabeth looked up from her new slippers.
Jane’s face made it plain that any speculation must be nipped in the bud.
“Do not take my poor choice of words to mean anything. We donothave an understanding of any kind. It might be better to say wecomprehendeach other.”
To Elizabeth’s surprise, Mr Jameson asked, “There are understandings, and there areunderstandings. Would it be fair to say that there isnochance that your current understanding willeverbecome another type?”
Flummoxed and cornered, Elizabeth snapped, “Stop poking, both of you. I have said all I have to say on the matter.”
Jane took her hands. “We apologise, Lizzy. We truly did not want to make you miserable. It started out as light-hearted teasing, and we are sorry it got out of hand.”
“All right, Jane. Let us not allow it to become acrimonious.”
Mr Jameson cautiously asked, “How should we treat any friendship, or whatever it is? Should we treat it as a sensitive subject and refrain from mentioning the gentleman?”
“All is well. Things between us are… complicated… and unlikely to simplify soon. Just speak about him normally. Since you brought it up, can you tell me the subject of your conversation?”
Jane lowered her eyes. “It seemed decidedly odd at the time. He applied to Uncle Gardiner and requested a brief discussion with me. Uncle told him I was engaged, and he said he already knew.” She looked up at her sister intently. “How did he know?”
The memory of that night in the parsonage and all that had occurred rushed back to Elizabeth.
There was not the slightest chance she would share everything said that evening, so she said only, “He visited just after I opened the dollhouse, so I… well—”
The colonel’s conversation came to mind, and she thought better of mentioning it, but Jane continued. “I imagine you were still angry about the colonel’s revelation?”
Elizabeth’s eyes snapped back to Jane. “How did you know about that?”
Jane ignored the question. “I imagine I should finish my story. He told Uncle he owed me an apology on a certain matter, and very respectfully asked his advice about the best way to go about it. I imagined that if Mr Darcy was on Gracechurch Street, you were no doubt behind the scheme, so I asked him to come back the next day and talk to me along with my intended.”
