Page 18 of A Question of Character

“Do they submit?”

“Rarely. Their resistance is vigorous.”

Before he could reply, Georgiana approached with another volume of music in hand. “Miss Bennet, would you look at this? I think it may be too difficult, but I should like to try it one day.”

Elizabeth accepted the music. “Let us inspect it together, and if it defeats us, we shall blame the composer.”

“A fair arrangement,” Darcy said.

“Do you hear, Miss Darcy? Your brother approves cowardice when properly framed.”

Georgiana laughed again, this time without hiding it.

The evening ended later than Elizabeth expected. When the Gardiners rose to take their leave, Georgiana expressed an earnest hope that they would meet again soon, and Darcy seconded it with less urgency but equal sincerity. Mrs. Younge offered the polite courtesies and no more.

In the hall, while the footman brought cloaks and wraps, Darcy thanked Mrs. Gardiner for coming, spoke with Mr. Gardiner about a possible morning at the British Museum, and then addressed Elizabeth.

“I hope tonight has not exhausted your patience for Derbyshire gentlemen.”

“My patience remains in excellent health.” She smiled, pleased with his attention.

“I am relieved.” He placed a hand dramatically on his chest, provoking a laugh.

“You may test it again, if you choose.”

Darcy held her gaze for a fraction longer than strict indifference required. “I shall.”

Mrs. Gardiner’s cloak rested about her shoulders, and the party moved toward the waiting carriage. Georgiana stood near her brother on the steps until Mrs. Gardiner called back one last request for the receipt for the almond cakes she had praised at dinner.

Elizabeth entered the carriage, the silver beading at her hem catching briefly against the step. Darcy noticed, bent, and freed it before the footman could attend to it.

“There,” he said. “No harm done.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

The door closed, and the carriage pulled away.

Elizabeth sat back beside her aunt, absurdly aware of her gown, her hair, the remains of music still running through her fingers, and the ridiculous knowledge that Mr. Darcy liked gingerbread.

Mr. Gardiner, across from her, waited until they had gone half a street before saying, “A very agreeable evening.”

Mrs. Gardiner adjusted her gloves. “Very agreeable.”

Elizabeth said nothing.

Her aunt, of course, required no answer.

four

Particular Attention

By the beginning of April, Elizabeth had become accustomed to finding Mr. Darcy in Gracechurch Street.

This was not, she told Jane in her letters, so extraordinary a circumstance as it might appear. Mr. Darcy had long been acquainted with her aunt and uncle. He was often in that part of town on business, or so he claimed, though Elizabeth could not help suspecting that no gentleman’s business required him to pass within three streets of the Gardiners’ house with such punctual devotion. He called three times a week, never staying beyond what propriety allowed, never arriving without some reasonable pretext, and never giving her aunt any cause to lift more than one mildly knowing eyebrow.

On Tuesdays he brought a book he had mentioned in conversation and professed himself obliged to lend it before he forgot. On Friday he came to ask whether Mr. Gardiner might advise him regarding a shipment of china he wished to purchase for Pemberley. The next Monday he brought Georgiana, who sat beside Mrs. Gardiner with visible delight while listening to recollections of Mrs. Darcy in Lambton. By the third week, his calls were so naturally folded into the rhythm of the house that Mrs. Gardiner would glance toward the clock before tea and remark, “I believe we may require another cup,” with no more ceremony than if she expected a relation.

Elizabeth did not write all of that to Jane.