Page 21 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

“Are you among the few who would not? Or perhaps you do not consider yourself upright at all?”

“Do you often badger your mother’s guests with impertinent questions?”

“The lady is sharp of wit and tongue,” replied Nicholas, amused rather than unruffled. “I beg your pardon if I offended.”

“You may find it easy to discuss the, er, collections here at Trenwith House, but the nature of them are entirely new to me.”

He bowed. “I made a precipitate assumption. Forgive me.”

As he sounded sincere, Lizzy chose not be angry with him. “As we are barely acquainted, perhaps we should keep to tamer subjects?”

“Agreed, but I would offer a parting advice.”

He removed the collection of poetry she held and replaced it with Ovid’s Ars Amatoria.

“More tame,” he explained, standing once more at a proximity within reason but dangerously unsettling.

She met his gaze. Though roguishly handsome, he did not fit her inclinations for any profound attachment, but perhaps he would do for a partner within physical limitations. Surprised by the wantonness of her own wonderings, she started to cough once more, causing Nicholas to retreat a step.

“Pardon me. I think I had best return to my chambers to rest and not worsen this cold,” she said. She looked at the book in her hands. “Thank you for the recommendation.”

“If you are inclined to discuss its merits, I would welcome the thoughts of a female reader on his teachings.”

She nodded, relieved to be taking her leave of his company. He reminded her a little of Casanova and imagined he could—or did—seduce a fair number of women. She would have to be on her most vigilant guard with him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Despite the light shower of rain, Darcy allowed his horse to amble along the road to Hunsford. The unfavourable conditions meant the journey would take more than half the day, but, ignoring the incredulous look of his butler and insisting he would not require his valet in advance, he had set out early in the morning. Time had failed to wipe Miss Elizabeth Bennet from his mind, and he would try any means at his disposal.

While in town he had filled every waking hour with matters of business, letters to his sister Georgiana, and calling upon acquaintances and friends. For a moment it seemed as if his application to industry had the desired effect. He knew there was little chance of returning to his initial indifference of Miss Elizabeth, but he wanted some relief from the frequency with which her bright eyes haunted his reverie. He had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty, had looked at her without admiration at that first ball, and when they next met, had looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others, equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his assertion that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness.

She, however, did not seem to reflect the same level of interest in him. At a party assembled at the Lucas home, wishing to know more of her, he had moved toward her. His doing so had drawn her notice, and she turned unhappily to her friend, Miss Charlotte Lucas.

“What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she to Miss Lucas, “by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?”

“That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.”

“But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.”

Taken aback by her remarks, Darcy stood awkwardly where he was. He had not intended to be caught eavesdropping and could not now invite himself into their conversation.

Miss Lucas defied her friend to speak, which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she turned to him and said:

“Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?”

“With great energy,” he replied, “but it is always a subject which makes a lady energetic.”

“You are severe on us.”

“It will be her turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”

“You are a very strange creature by way of a friend, always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable, but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.” On Miss Lucas's persevering, however, she added, “Very well, if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing at him, “There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with: 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge'; and I shall keep mine to swell my song.”

Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, seemed impatient to display her accomplishments.

Miss Mary had neither genius nor taste, but possessed a pedantic air and conceited manner. Miss Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.

Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William began: