Mr. Bennet nodded. “I am grateful to him for all of this.” He motioned to the room. “But I admit it came as something of a surprise.”
There was a light knock on the door, and Miss Bennet walked inside without pause. “Papa, Mamma would like to know if you prefer . . . Oh!” she exclaimed when she entered. “Forgive me. I did not realise you had company.”
Darcy stood, and her eyes lifted to his.
“Good day, Mr. Darcy.”
He bowed. “Miss Bennet.”
Mr. Bennet glanced between them, bushy eyebrows lifting in question. “You are acquainted with my daughter, Mr. Darcy?”
“We met briefly in town when Mamma and I visited the draper’s. I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air—”
Here, Mr. Bennet chuckled.
“And Mr. Darcy was passing by.”
“How interesting,” Mr. Bennet mused, his eyes twinkling. Clearly, he could tell there was something she was leaving out, otherwise why would Darcy have introduced himself without a mutual acquaintance to do it properly?
“Well, Lizzy,” her father continued, “since you are here, perhaps you would like to join us? Mr. Darcy says he thinks there are some first editions somewhere amongst the piles.”
Her eyes lit up. “It would be a pleasure, Papa. However, before I do, Mamma wishes to know which paper you prefer. This one?” She held up a small panel of dark blue paper with a quatrefoil design. “Or this one?” The second was a paler paper with vines of flowers.
Mr. Bennet just raised his eyebrows.
“I did suggest you would prefer the blue, but she wanted me to inquire,” Miss Bennet said with a smile.
“Is she pressing to redecorate my room, now?”
“Only the damaged study, once it is repaired. I could not deny that the paper on the walls there will be ruined, and Mamma conveniently had these samples at the ready. Mr. Glidding sent her home with a few books of them. She is his new favourite customer.”
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “It is a good thing I know she cannot climb onto the roof.”
“For you would have thought she made the hole herself?”
The man smiled at his daughter. “Precisely.”
“She adores decorating, Papa, but she and I have come to an accord on how quickly that shall happen.”
Darcy watched the interaction with no little envy. He had lost his father four years ago and his mother ten years before that, both just before Christmas. He had never known his own father as well as Miss Bennet knew hers. He had certainly never finished his father’s thoughts. But why would Miss Bennet be directing her mother’s choices? Was Mrs. Bennet so careless with the family’s funds?
“I shall return in a moment. Be kind to Mr. Darcy, Papa. He saved me from an embarrassing fall in Lambton a fortnight ago.”
And having dropped only that tempting morsel, she left them.
“You saved her from a fall?” Mr. Bennet inquired. “How fortuitous.”
“It was nothing,” Darcy protested. “I was merely glad to be of service.”
“Lizzy is always landing herself in trouble,” her father said fondly. “When she was young, she sought it out, but now that she is a proper young lady, it seeks her.”
Darcy thought this a rather accurate description of the event and smiled. “Perhaps her previous experiences have prepared her, for your daughter was not at all troubled by the incident.”
“She has had a great deal of practise.”
Mr. Bennet was waiting, and Darcy shook his head. “Two boys were running past the draper’s at just the moment Miss Bennet was exiting and I was walking past. They ran into her, she fell, and I caught her.”
The man laughed. “You really must have my Lizzy teach you how to tell a story, Mr. Darcy. You might have made yourself quite the dashing hero in it. Seems a wasted opportunity.”
