Page 17 of A Question of Character

“That is not a food. That is an ingredient.”

“It is a food if one eats enough of them.”

“I must yield to such reasoning.”

“Favorite treat, then?”

“Gingerbread.”

Elizabeth’s brows rose. “Mr. Darcy of Pemberley favors gingerbread?”

“When well made.”

“I am delighted.”

“Why?” He regarded her curiously.

“Because it is an honest sort of preference. I feared you might say marchpane or some French confection with a name designed to embarrass English tongues.”

He gave a low laugh, brief enough that no one across the room remarked upon it. “And yours?”

“Lemon ice.”

“Gunter’s has made an impression.”

“Gunter’s did not begin my affection. It merely strengthened it.”

“Favorite diversion?”

“Walking,” she answered without hesitation. “Though reading disputes the claim when it rains.”

“I should have guessed walking.”

“Because my aunt betrayed me at dinner.”

“Because you speak of places as though roads were invitations.”

Elizabeth considered him with open amusement. “That is nearly poetical, Mr. Darcy.”

“Forgive me. It was accidental.”

“And your favorite diversion?”

“Riding.”

“That suits you.”

“Does it?”

“Yes. It allows solitude without seeming unsociable.”

This time his laugh escaped more plainly. Mrs. Gardiner’s head came up, and Elizabeth, catching her aunt’s eye, nearly lost her composure.

Darcy took up a book at random, opened it, and discovered he was holding it upside down. To his credit, he corrected the error with dignity.

“You are dangerous, Miss Bennet.”

“So I have been told, though usually by my younger sisters when I threaten to improve them.”