“I do not understand.”
“I am sure you have heard far more skilful performers. I never practise as much as I should.”
“Whatever mistakes you might make while playing the pianoforte, I assure you, they are adequately compensated for by…the way you approach music. I do not know how to describe it, but I was serious.” The words that came to mind—the joy and almost fearlessness with which she sang, the feeling she somehow imbued in the notes—seemed too intimate to express. Leaving aside the issue, he continued. “In my quest, I have eavesdropped on your conversations with others upon occasion. In this undignified manner”—she laughed, as he had expected she would—“I found out that you like to read. May I ask what sorts of books you prefer?”
“As a young lady, am I permitted to say anything other than novels and poetry? Would it damage your opinion of me if I admit I enjoy reading about scientific discoveries?”
“Not at all. I encourage my sister to read whatever interests her. She is particularly fond of history.”
Miss Elizabeth asked about Georgiana—how old she was, where she resided, and the like—saying, “I have a strong interest in sisters. Whatever their flaws, I dearly love mine, and I believe everyone ought to have at least one, if they can manage it.”
They spent several minutes speaking of Georgiana, then she surprised him by saying, “Thank you for what you said about my family the other night. At Lucas Lodge. You must wonder why the Bests were so quick to disparage us.”
Of course he was curious, but it was none of his business. “I did happen to notice their behaviourtowards you was remarkably different from what it was when we all met at Lane Park.”
“The reason is simple enough, and I shall tell you since they involved you in it. I asked my father to tell the Bests that I shall never have…a particular interest in Edward.” As though not wanting to discuss it further, she quickly added, “I had no notion my father and your cousin were friends. That is…shocking.”
“It is proof that Darcys and Bennets can be friends,” he said, earning him a smile. “I wrote to him and recently received a reply. I hope to discuss it with Mr Bennet.” Before she remembered she was not supposed to be speaking to him, he enquired, “Apart from walking, reading, and music, how else do you like to pass your time? Do you draw?”
She gave a hearty laugh, causing Budge to briefly wake from his nap. He gave a soft bark and looked up at her. Once she had patted his head and told him all was well, the dog again buried his nose in his paws and began to snore. Earlier, Darcy would have been embarrassed; at present, because Miss Elizabeth gave no hint of thinking less of Budge—or him for having such an animal—he was not.
“I cannot so much as draw a circle without assistance,” she explained.
It was Darcy’s turn to laugh and smile. “I am no better, though my sister is. I would still like to know what diversions you enjoy. Say, if you are confined to the house because of bad weather, what do you do?”
“You are attempting to get to know me.” It was a statement not a question, yet he confirmed it. “Withfour sisters—to say nothing of my parents—there is always someone to speak to or do something with, such as play a game. I have recently begun learning duets on the pianoforte with Mary, and my father has asked me to help Kitty—Catherine, that is, though I suppose that is obvious—and Lydia practise their currently rather lacking French skills.” She blushed, but he was not sure why unless it was because she had said more than she had intended to. For his part, he did not mind at all.
“And now, I really ought to go.” She patted Budge and murmured a few words to the dog before giving Darcy a long, contemplative look and saying, “Good day, Mr Darcy.”
As he had done before, Darcy watched her walk away. It had been the most congenial conversation they had ever had, and he fervently hoped it would not be the last—and not only so that he might apologise properly.
She is…uncommon, though why she strikes me as such, I cannot say.Whatever it was, he knew he liked her. He liked her very much indeed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Elizabeth walked away from Mr Darcy, her head swimming with confusion and other feelings she could not identify. Hearing him speaking to his dog, his tone a mix of pleading, exasperation, and fondness, made her giggle.
“Come on, Bud. We must return to the house, and you are too heavy for me to carry all the way. You are not a puppy any longer, and I am not Georgiana. I promise, I shall let you sleep by the fire all afternoon.”
How much had happened in the last quarter of an hour! She supposed it might have been twenty minutes or longer; she could not tell how much time had passed while she had been pleasantly—how couldthatbe?—with him. It was more than just this one interval that added to how unsettled she felt; there was what her father had said to her after the Lucases’ party. Was she really so stubborn that she refused to alter her first impressions of people? And she must add her past encounters with Mr Darcy, including the last time theyhad unexpectedly met while she was walking alone. Today, what had most struck Elizabeth was the added element of humbleness in his comportment. He had seemed embarrassed by Budge—which he had no cause to be; the dog was very sweet—and truly desirous of correcting the mistakes he had made. When he had first apologised to her, it had been done in such an offhanded manner, clearly something he felt compelled to do without meaning the words he spoke, which is why she had refused to accept. Could it be that he was sincere? Did he genuinely feel he had disappointed himself and his friend?
“What is certain is that heistrying to know me, just as I said he must,” she murmured. It was important for her to hear the words to truly believe them, so unexpected was the sentiment. But perhaps it should not be, not after how he had spoken of her family to Mrs Best and her son.
Elizabeth decided the only possible course was to see how Mr Darcy acted towards her and others in the coming days. At the very least, she might accept that his behaviour in October had been unusual for him, that her animosity was the result of an unfortunate introduction to the gentleman because she had not seen him as he truly was. Why his mood had been so bad that it led him to be arrogant and insulting was puzzling—and he ought not to have been amongst others during such a period—but it would be wrong of her to be unwilling to forgive it if he proved that was not a reflection of the person he commonly was or wanted to be.
And perhaps the task might be more easilyundertaken given Mr Darcy’s…attractions. She could not deny that he was handsome, and his trim, athletic form only added to his appeal. As did him having a lazy dog with a silly name whom he evidently spoilt.
Elizabeth sawMr Darcy again while she was taking a walk before breakfast two days later. She could not entirely call this encounter accidental because she had acknowledged to herself that she very well might see him—especially since she chose the same path upon which their previous meetings had happened. He was alone and explained that Budge had been immovable in his refusal to accompany Darcy on a long ramble through the countryside.
“He truly is the laziest dog I have ever known,” he said. “He would have been better suited to be Georgiana’s companion, but…”
“Would you think me fanciful if I say I believe dogs and cats have a sense of who needs them? Not all of them, to be sure, but since Budge has chosen you, it must be because he believes you need him.”
Mr Darcy gave her an incredulous look and seemed unwilling to answer her question.
“He might feel you need to slow down, enjoy your life more,” she continued. “Are you often rushing about, not taking the time to sit and relish whatever you are doing without jumping into something else?”
“Sleep the day away as he does?” His tone was humorous, and she laughed, after which he added, “I shall not comment on your…interesting view, but I have decided to add an entry to my list of things I know about Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
