Page 23 of A Question of Character

Lord Hensley blinked. “The score?”

“The one she believed you had mislaid.”

A faint line appeared between Hensley’s brows before recollection dawned.

“Oh! Yes, of course. I returned it yesterday.”

“I thought you had.”

Lord Hensley excused himself with a bow. “If you will pardon me, I ought to reassure Lady Dorrington that her music has survived my care.”

“As you wish.”

The gentleman departed with commendable speed.

Elizabeth folded her fan and regarded Darcy with undisguised amusement.

“You rescued him very neatly.”

“I had no notion he required rescuing.”

“No?”

“No.”

She laughed.

“That is a very poor answer.”

“It is the only one presently available.”

Elizabeth tilted her head. “Mr. Darcy, I begin to suspect you have interrupted my conversations more than once this evening.”

“Have I?”

“You have.”

“I owe you an apology.”

“You do not sound particularly penitent.”

“No.”

His frankness made it impossible to preserve even the appearance of severity.

“I wonder whether I ought to be offended.”

“I hope not.”

“You hope a great many convenient things.”

“I do.”

She opened her fan again, more from habit than necessity. “May I inquire why Lord Hensley was suddenly so interesting to Lady Dorrington?”

“He was not.”

“So there never was a missing score?”