Page 60 of A Question of Character

“I thought you had forgotten luncheon.”

“I nearly had.”

“I told Mrs. Younge you would.”

Darcy smiled despite himself.

“Then I am grateful someone has greater confidence in my absent-mindedness than I do.”

She set the basket upon his desk and began removing its contents with domestic seriousness. Bread, cheese, cold ham, and two peaches appeared one after another.

“You have been out already?”

“We walked through the village.”

“And found sufficient temptation to empty half the baker’s shelves, I perceive.”

“It was Mrs. Younge’s fault,” Georgiana answered with suspicious innocence. “She declared seaside air increases one’s appetite.”

“I have heard the same.”

“It may even be true.”

She crossed to the open window. The cries of gulls drifted upward from the harbor below.

“I wish Miss Bennet could see this.”

The remark came so naturally that Darcy did not answer immediately.

Georgiana continued, watching a small cutter making its way toward the harbor entrance.

“She would like the fishing boats. And the children searching for shells. Yesterday we found a tiny crab beneath the rocks. Mrs. Younge would not permit me to bring it home.”

“I suspect the servants are grateful.”

Georgiana laughed.

“I thought perhaps Miss Bennet would have enjoyed it.”

“So she might.”

“Do you suppose Ireland has crabs?”

“I have never considered the question.”

“You should.”

“Should I?”

“Miss Bennet would.”

Darcy rested one elbow upon the desk.

“You speak of her often.”

Georgiana nodded and moved away from the window. “I miss her.”

“So do I.” The admission escaped him with less caution than he ordinarily employed.