I put my finger to my lips and said, “Shh. This is the best part.”
Even as I fixated on my sister as she dove deeper into the composition, my lips twitched in smug satisfaction at how much more frequently the lady next to me stole looks at my profile.
When the notes again subsided into adagio and still without looking at her, I relented. “You are willing me to explain myself. But why would I? I believe you enjoy trying to make out my character.”
“I have tried for nearly a year now, Mr Darcy, and I am no wiser.”
“Excellent,” I said. And then, having dared to tease her as long as I had, I stood up and went to my sister.
CHAPTER 46
In the intervening days, my inclination to defer to Mrs Bennet had been so obvious that my housekeeper had understood this to be a signal to lavish the lady with every mark of attention. Rather than checking Mrs Spencer by a word of caution, I had looked on with approval. This meant that Elizabeth’s mother had the exclusive use of not one, but two upstairs maids, and by the regular traffic up and down the stairs with trays of delicacies, restoratives, possets, and I know not what else, she had only to hint at something to have it brought to her with a curtsey.
In consequence, Mrs Bennet’s removal to her brother’s house was just as loud and exhausting as any reasonable man would expect. Even the serene Miss Bennet looked slightly overwhelmed as she came down to farewell her mother and sisters.
Behind her on the landing, Kitty and Lydia began to bicker as to which of them was Mrs Gardiner’s favourite, and Mary, standing by the baluster with a scowl of impatience, felt it necessary to preach the gospel of humility in the most arrogantly religious manner.
Then Mrs Bennet also came downstairs in an attitude of barely contained vexation while holding to her nose a handkerchief that smelled strongly of vinegar. Beside her, Elizabeth, upon whom the task of ushering their mother to the door had apparently fallen, wore the distinctly saturnine expression of someone pushed past the point of all toleration.
Unfortunately, the spectacle captured so perfectly in that vignette struck me as so silly that I was stupid enough to grin at her.
Mrs Bennet said her farewells effusively, intermingled with regrets and sighs, complaints of various pains and spasms, and demands to her younger daughters to spare her nerves and sit quietly or she would die of the headache. To me, she expressed startling politeness, and after embarrassing Georgiana with a deluge of compliments and a sprinkling of tears, she was at last seen safely into the coach and rolling away.
Miss Bennet and Georgiana quickly went inside because the wind was sharp, and upon seeing Elizabeth’s expression had lost none of its sharpness, I said, “Let us hear it, then.”
“Hear what? I am so exasperated! In a little more than a week, you have raised my mother’s expectations to the sky and turned her into the most capricious, demanding tyrant. And to cap it all, there you stood at the foot of the stair very close to laughing at me.”
“In my defence, when you are in a fit of temper, you are adorable.”
“Of course you would have an inarguable reply,” she fumed.
“Forgive me. I know how irritating it is to be confronted by a cheerful person when you are in a fit of aggravation. Do you recall how you tried to tease me out of my indignation when Keller informed me I was to drive you to London in a mule cart? Tell me you did not enjoy annoying me.”
She folded her arms, narrowed her eyes, and pretended to look indifferently up the street as her mother’s carriage turned the corner. “I know you are trying to make me smile, and I refuse to give you the satisfaction.”
With one finger I lightly caressed her faintly dimpled cheek and said, “Would it be unwise of me to mention that I am not afraid of you?”
The buoyancy of her natural disposition could not withstand such an attack, and after laughingly calling me an insufferable and aggravating knave, she relented with very good grace.
“I have treated you to a tantrum, sir, and I am very sorry,” she said with a wistful smile.
“I hope it is the first of many. There is no clearer sign you trust me. But since I am apparently to blame for your recent ordeal, I feel I should make amends. Perhaps you are in need of a long walk?”
She agreed to go, but in the spirit of friendly retribution, she went upstairs in search of her sister and Georgiana to discover if they would go with us. Denied a private walk with her, I was forced to humbly wait until the ladies eventually came down to meet me dressed in richly coloured pelisses and matching velvet bonnets.
The air remained brisk, but we braved the cold, and with the intent to walk away the fidgets of such a disruptive morning, we were soon on one of the many paths in Green Park.
My senses were greatly heightened and strangely so, for as much as I enjoyed the pursuit of such forbidden pleasures as stolen words and the prospect of another midnight meeting in the library, I could not forestall a resolution for very much longer. My preoccupation must have been apparent, however, and Georgiana delicately extricated herself from her friends in order to fall back to walk alongside me.
“You are quiet this morning,” she said.
It struck me then that were she to be left in the dark as to the love affair so close to boiling over right under her nose, she might be hurt, or worse, feel as though she had been betrayed.
Guided by impulse alone, I leant close to her. “I have fallen in love with your friend, and I am on the verge of offering for her.”
Her eyes flew open, as did her lips as she stared at me, and lest she say something loud enough to be overheard by the others, I put my finger to my lips.
“How long?” she whispered.
