“And I seem to be unable to remain awake in the library. Are you looking for another book?”
“I am, yes. The one I found last night was not to Jane’s taste.”
“Might I assist you? I do not believe you can reach the top shelves.”
“Indeed, I cannot even read the titles on the top shelves! I thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
He rose from the sofa and stood beside her. The faint scent of jasmine reached him. He inhaled deeply; she smelled wonderful. She looked wonderful. Everything about her was wonderful.
“Are you well, Mr. Darcy?” She looked at him with concern.
“Yes, I was just –“ And here he stopped. He was what? Enjoying her scent? Admiring her person? He could not possibly explain. Instead, he changed the subject. “Let me tell you what I see here.” And he rattled off the names of the volumes on the shelf. When he reachedThe Midnight Bell, she laughed and said, “Jane will love that. Might you bring it down for me?”
“Of course.” He reached up – it was not a difficult reach, as he was a tall man with appropriately long arms – and dusted it off with a handkerchief before giving it to her.
She glanced at the bandage on his hand and raised a questioning brow.
“A small accident,” he told her. “It is nothing.”
She nodded, returning her gaze to the book. “It is astonishing that this book has been left behind by the previous tenants,” she said. “But I will be certain to return it to the library before we leave.”
“When do you think that will be?” he asked.
“I am very much hoping that we can leave tomorrow.”
“Netherfield is not to your taste?”
“It is a handsome house,” she temporized. “But I very much feel that we are an inconvenience.”
“Certainly not to Mr. Bingley; he would have your sister move in permanently, I think.”
She shook her head, reprovingly. “It is far too short an acquaintance to make such a statement.”
“So you do not believe in love at first sight? That is an unusual position for a young lady, is it not?”
“I do, of course. But one must also take into account the practicalities. Can I live with this person peacefully? Will we help one another grow as human beings? Do we have the same life goals? These are important questions when choosing a partner.”
“And how do two people learn these things about one another if all they are allowed to do is to have two dances at an assembly and sit beside one another at dinner or at tea?” he asked.
“That is a very good question, Mr. Darcy. It is difficult, under society’s strictures, to learn much about a potential marriage partner.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy?”
“You asked why I had not confided my family’s situation to Mr. Bingley.”
“I recall that, yes.”
“Once you posited the question, I realised that I do not trust Bingley to not repeat the story to his youngest sister, who would then immediately write to all her acquaintances in London.”
She thought for a minute. “I think you are right to feel that way. Not because he would wish you ill, but because – well, I shall say no more.”
Mr. Darcy said, “I will say it for you. He is a good soul, but he would never have the ability to keep such information to himself if Miss Bingley decided he was holding something back from her.”
“Yes. But there is more to consider here, I think.” She hesitated and then added, “I do not wish to be rude or to offend you in any way.”
“I value your opinion, Miss Elizabeth. I beg you to share your thoughts.”
