Page 43 of A Question of Character

“It was accurate.”

“It was provoking.”

“Also accurate.”

Mrs. Gardiner rose from the desk with her folded letter. “I must ask Mrs. Hill whether this packet may go with the afternoon post. Elizabeth, do not allow Mr. Darcy to become insufferable while I am gone.”

“I shall do my best, Aunt.”

Darcy stood as Mrs. Gardiner crossed the room. “I hope I have not been so already.”

“My dear Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner said, pausing at the door with affectionate mischief, “every gentleman with ten thousand a year has been insufferable at least once before breakfast. The wise ones recover by dinner.”

She left them with that, and Elizabeth, who had meant to maintain dignity, gave way to laughter the moment the door closed.

Darcy reseated himself slowly. “Mrs. Gardiner grows more alarming every week.”

“She grows more accurate every week.”

“I am defenseless.”

“You are never defenseless. You are merely unused to being outnumbered.”

“In this house, I am perpetually outnumbered.”

“And still you return.”

“Yes,” he said. “I do.”

The room, which had been all amusement a moment before, became too aware of itself. Elizabeth reached for her mending again and stabbed the needle into the linen with excessive purpose.

“My fault,” she said briskly, “is vanity.”

Darcy’s eyes moved from her crooked stitch to her face. “Vanity?”

“Yes. Not in the ordinary way. I do not believe myself the handsomest woman in every room.”

“I should not call that vanity.”

She refused to reward him by blushing, though she felt the attempt gathering in her cheeks. “No interruptions, sir. I mean a vanity of mind. I enjoy being correct. Worse, I expect it. I have so often found myself the most sensible person in a room that I have begun to rely upon it as a law of nature.”

Darcy considered her with an expression that suggested laughter had been delayed rather than denied. “That is a magnificent confession.”

“I feared it might be.”

“And do you often find yourself mistaken?”

“Seldom enough to make correction unpleasant.”

“Then your vanity has been encouraged by experience.”

“Exactly. You see my tragedy.”

“I see a lady who calls superiority a tragedy because she expects sympathy for it.”

Elizabeth placed a hand over her heart. “Cruel, Mr. Darcy.”

“Resentful, Miss Bennet. I warned you.”