Darcy felt unsure of how to respond. “I assure you, sir, I have no desire to embellish the facts. Miss Bennet’s safety was my only concern.”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “Of course, of course. Forgive me my flippant nature, Mr. Darcy. I am unused to making new acquaintances these days, though I suppose I shall have to accustom myself to it now.” He sighed. “At least you find me in a quiet house. With four daughters yet at home, you may find future visits less peaceful.”
Darcy could not hide his surprise. “You have five daughters, sir?”
“Indeed,” Mr. Bennet confirmed, obviously enjoying having shocked his guest. “Lizzy is my second eldest.”
“Papa, do not tease Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bennet said as she returned to them. “My sisters are yet at Longbourn, in Hertfordshire, and the most boisterous two are also the youngest. Lydia will turn fourteen in December, and Kitty is only just sixteen. They will grow more decorous with time.”
Darcy swept several larger tomes from the seat of a third chair and carefully stacked them atop the pile already on the side table behind him. It was becoming rather a tall tower, but he hated to put Ellis’s books on the floor.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bennet said. She settled into the chair, and Darcy sat too. “Mamma is happily planning another purchase at Mr. Glidding’s.”
“She shall be pleasantly occupied, then,” Mr. Bennet said. He spoke in jest, but there was a tenderness in the statement that led Darcy to believe theirs was a happy marriage.
“Mr. Darcy was regaling me with the tale of your narrow escape from disaster, Lizzy,” her father said.
Darcy was about to protest, but Miss Bennet’s cheeks pinked, and it was such a delightful sight he forgot what he intended to say.
“Was he indeed?” She turned large, dark eyes upon him. “I hope he did not exaggerate my clumsiness.”
“On the contrary,” Mr. Bennet told her, “He was explaining that the fault lay entirely with the boys who ran into you and denied doing anything extraordinary in providing assistance to you.”
“Very gentlemanly of him.” Miss Bennet graced Darcy with a sweet smile.
Mr. Bennet nodded. “And modest too. Our new neighbour is a man of many virtues.”
Darcy could feel his face warming. He was at once put off by being made the object of Mr. Bennet’s teasing and gratified by Miss Bennet’s charming gratitude.
Miss Bennet gave her father a look of affectionate exasperation before addressing Darcy. “You are a neighbour, sir? I have heard of Pemberley before you mentioned it, having visited the area before, but have no idea where it is located.”
It pleased him she had recalled both his name and that of his estate. "When you turn on to the lane towards Lambton, there is a road that branches off to the east. About three miles down—and then up—is where Pemberley House sits.”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “And what do you think of our own little corner of Derbyshire so far, Mr. Darcy?”
“I think you are setting to the repairs with admirable promptness,” he replied.
“Now there is a compliment for you, Lizzy.”
“Papa,” she remonstrated, though her admonition was accompanied with a little smile. She stood to greet a maid who had appeared with a tea tray. “Thank you, Milly. Has Mrs. Bennet had a tray already?”
“Yes, Miss Bennet.”
Mr. Bennet took the tray before his daughter could and set it on the desk. Millie curtsied and hurried away. “Mr. Darcy, given the state of the house at present, our meals are rather informal, but we should be pleased to share our repast with you.”
There was tea, but also a light meal on the tray. Miss Bennet must have spoken to the cook, for there were three teacups and enough food for all of them.
“I thank you,” Darcy said. He was thirsty and did not wish to leave just yet. He was clearly imposing, but he could make himself useful. “Mr. Bennet, I should be pleased to assist you and Miss Bennet with examining the books from damage.”
“Oh, Lizzy will not be undertaking such dirty work,” Mr. Bennet said.
“My apologies,” Darcy said, turning to Miss Bennet. “I did not mean to imply—”
“He is teasing you again, Mr. Darcy,” the lady said. “Do not concern yourself. He often does the same thing to me, and although I am quite familiar with his antics, I still only catch him about half the time.”
Her father smiled at them both. “Lizzy does not mind the dust if there are books to be perused,” he said. “I only worry she will want to begin reading them and end the day with nothing accomplished at all.”
“That is more a description of you than of me, Papa.”
