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He watched Miss Elizabeth appraise him, and was pleasantly surprised at the warm feeling he received when she responded.

“I have been hostess at several dinners where various officers have attended. Of them, by far the most memorable was one four months ago. One of the guests in attendance was a Quartermaster Captain in the 7th battalion of the King’s German Legion. He had recently returned to Britain from Spain having been wounded at the Battle of Fuentes de Onoro.”

Darcy found himself leaning forward, fascinated as to where this tale was going. His cousin did not go into such detail when he talked of his exploits.

“He had been in Portugal and Spain for a year, and had been involved in the retreat to the Lines of Torres Vedras and the subsequent Battle of Sobral. As you can imagine the other guests, myself included, were eager to hear the stories of the battles. What surprised us all was that he talked about provisions.”

“Provisions?”

“As a response to our victory at Talavera in ’09 the French invaded Portugal in ’10. I am sure you are aware of this. The army retreated to the Lines of Torres Vedras, and defeated the French at Sobral. Again, I am sure you know this, it has been extensively reported. But what this Captain explained was that in March the French retreated because they were starving. According to him, and I checked in our atlas, Fuentes de Onoro is nearly 200 miles away, on the Spanish border. We drove the French back 200 miles without a battle. And it was all down to the British and Portuguese having supplies and the French having none. According to rumours the French lost a third of their troops in those six months.

“What made the evening captivating for me was listening to someone who understand provisions. How much food and water is needed for each man, each day. And the same for horses and other animals. My uncle has been involved in supplying and shipping grain and animals to the Peninsula for several years but it was this Captain who broke it down to how much food and water was needed by the Army every day. I had seen the big picture, as is reported in the newspapers, but this was the detail every battalion and regiment have to know. If the Army is starving they retreat, as demonstrated by the French.”

Elizabeth looked at Darcy sheepishly, a slight flush to her cheeks.

“I am good at arithmetic, and help with the ledgers. Such descriptions and detailed explanations captivate my interest.”

Darcy sat there utterly enthralled yet conflicted at the same time. Here was an intelligent woman, incredibly well read, and interested in obscure aspects of the war in the Peninsula. She could also speak knowledgeably about them. What was also clear was that these obscure aspects were fundamental to successfully defeating Napoleon. Yet at the same time she, once again, made no secret of the fact that her uncle was in trade, and that she even assisted him. Before he could respond Miss Elizabeth stood up in preparation for leaving.

“If you will excuse me, I will go and check on Jane. We may see you at dinner this evening, assuming she is well enough to attend.”

He had barely got to his feet to bow before she was out of the room. Darcy retreated to the library, yet another cup of coffee to hand, and thought about Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

If it had not been for the full cup of coffee he would have thrown his hands up. He thought through all of the woman of his acquaintance, trying to compare Miss Elizabeth to any of them. The closest he could find in his mental review were the wives of senior government officials, be they civilian or military. None of them had spoken as Miss Elizabeth had, at least in his hearing, but he suspected that they were privy to the thoughts of their husbands.

He stopped for a moment. What made Miss Elizabeth unique was her openness. She was not the wife of a cabinet Minister or General, such ladies were expected to be utterly discreet, and blabbing secrets would ruin the family. Rather she was the opposite of Miss Bingley, and everyone like her. She openly talked of her uncle in trade, had an interest in the war and current affairs, and came across as something of a blue stocking.

Another pause in Darcy’s thinking occurred. The classic example of a blue stocking lady was one who was on the shelf. The words bandied about at his club to accompany the phrase were old, ugly and shrewish. Miss Elizabeth was none of those things, she was just different. Darcy stood and paced back and forth in the library. He had thought almost daily about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and had paid more attention to her than any other lady in the neighbourhood. He knew that she was interesting, more than that, fascinating. Now he had a different concern. Had he raised her expectations?

He spent the rest of the day fretting about exactly that.

--

“Do you have a moment, Miss Elizabeth?”

Claire stood at the servant’s door of her bedroom.

“Of course, come in.”

“Thank you. You need to be aware that Miss Bingley has been questioning the staff extensively about you.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

“I imagine she is not concerned for my welfare.”

Claire smiled and shook her head. The smile left her face.

“No, it is more insidious than that. She found out that you have not been in Hertfordshire for the last four years, and that you had been staying with your uncle in London.”

“It is not a secret. She knows my uncle is in trade and resides in Cheapside.”

“You have met her, you have seen what she is like. I believe you should be on guard.”

Elizabeth sighed.

“I wish I knew why she is so bothered about me. I do not recall having any conversation with her until Jane took sick here. I just want to ignore her, and I wish she would do me the same courtesy.”

Claire did not say anything, just nodded and took her leave. Elizabeth walked down the hall to Jane’s room and was pleased to see that she was much better.