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“Tell me about it. Perhaps I might wish to read it,” he prompted, leaning in slightly, encouraged that she had not dismissed him entirely.
To his surprise, she did begin to speak at some length, describing with great detail and enthusiasm the grand conflicts and intrigues of classical civilisations. David drew closer, captivated not only by the stories, but by the unexpected passion in her voice. It was a side of Mary he had never truly seen, and he realised with a start how much he wished to see it again.
He stared at her in disbelief. “But surely they would not carve an inventory into the side of a pyramid?”
“That is what Herodotus claims, although I have not done any additional research on the matter.”
“Perhaps they were reusing stones that had previously served some other purpose,” he offered.
“Perhaps,” Mary mused. “And for all we know, he might have made it up out of whole cloth, for no one has yet published a reliable translation of the Egyptian characters.”
“Perhaps he was simply very gullible, and the Egyptian who served as his guide was jesting with him.”
“David!” came his younger sister’s voice across the room.
“Yes, Maria?” he responded, his voice carefully even.
“Papa wants you to ask Miss Bingley to dance. He says she has danced very little, and he wants her to feel welcome.”
David surveyed the assembly room until he found Miss Bingley sitting alone, watching the dancers with a discontented air. He could not disobey his father, however much he might wish to.
“Thank you, Maria,” he said.
Maria went off to find her friends, and he turned back to Mary. “I will talk to you again soon, I hope. I promise not to startle you again—your books are quite safe from me.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “Very well, Mr. Lucas. You must not keep Miss Bingley waiting.”
David gave a rueful bow and departed. Mary watched him cross the room toward Miss Bingley, then returned her gaze to the dancers once more.
Chapter 4
When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, Jane, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister just how very much she admired him.
“Oh, Lizzy! Mr. Bingley is just what a young man ought to be,” said Jane, “sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! So much ease, with such perfect good breeding!”
“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.”
“You jest, Lizzy, but I have never met someone I liked so well. I was very flattered by his asking me to dance a second time.”
“Nothing could be more natural! Certainly, he could not help but see that you were the most handsome lady in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.”
“Dear Lizzy!”
“No, I shall not tease you, but you must admit that you are a great deal too apt to like people in general. All the world is good and agreeable in your eyes. I have never heard you speak ill of anyone.”
“I do not wish to be too hasty and censure someone undeservedly.”
“Indeed, and that is why I do love you so dearly.”
Wishing to be teased no longer, Jane asked her sister about her impression of Mr. Darcy.
Elizabeth paused, contemplating the man. “He is unquestionably handsome and behaved most gentlemanly—especially toward Mrs. Ellington. Yet he seemed reserved, so unlike his friend. There was a pride about him I cannot quite describe.”
“You thought him proud?”
“I did, though perhaps it is merely his nature to be less effusive than Mr. Bingley. He was polite, certainly, but not warm, and he seemed to assess everything and everyone in the room.”
Jane tilted her head. “Perhaps he is merely shy. You know how easily a reserved nature can be mistaken for pride. Did not Mr. Welson once mistake my fatigue for disdain? One must not judge a person on a first impression alone.”
