“You can discern their wisdom from the mere fact that they chose not to raze the countryside to create their lodging?” her Mr. Darcy asked.
He had not spoken until that moment, she realised. In the exchange of pleasantries he had been silent, offering a bowand letting his father and sister do all the talking. She had not noticed because she was so distracted by the site of him. The deep timbre and teasing cadence of his voice made her stomach flutter. His perfections were so complete and overwhelming, Elizabeth was nearly annoyed with him. It was too much. He was too much. However, she would not let his challenge go unanswered. His manifold attractions may have rendered her nearly stupid, but she would not let them make her dumb.
“Not exactly,” she replied. “I see the wisdom in that choice, yes, but it is also my observation that certain, though perhaps not all, of their descendants clearly display wisdom of their own. So I can assume it is a family trait.”
“Not all?” he asked.
“Not all,” she responded with solemnity and was rewarded with a smile and nod from the gentleman.
“I see you will be quite able to keep Fitzwilliam on his toes,” Mr. Darcy observed with a smile of his own. At that moment, the housekeeper arrived, followed by two servants bearing food and drink. Elizabeth nearly exclaimed at the bounty being offered. There was a tray of cold meat and a variety of fruits. The tea things were set up, and the two servants departed. It seemed to be enough food for a party several times their size.
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds,” Mr. Darcy said to the housekeeper. “Tell Mrs. Padmore she has outdone herself.”
“Yes, sir, I will be sure to do so,” the housekeeper responded. “Miss Darcy was quite instrumental in the planning and arrangement for these refreshments—she is becoming quitethe young mistress.” The older woman looked at Georgiana with motherly pride and affection. Georgiana, Elizabeth noted, was both blushing and sitting up a little straighter.
“I am glad to hear it,” Mr. Darcy declared. “Well done, Georgiana.” Turning back to the housekeeper, he added, “I should present Miss Darcy’s friend Miss Elizabeth Bennet to you now, Mrs. Reynolds, as I have no doubt she will be a frequent visitor this summer. Please show her the attention you do to all our most esteemed guests.”
“Of course, Mr. Darcy, it will be our pleasure,” she said. Bobbing a curtsy at him, she left the room.
The foursome gathered around the food table, filling their plates. Georgiana insisted Elizabeth try a little bit of everything and so helped load hers up to the point where it became heavy.
“Little one, I think Miss Elizabeth has enough to last her the hour,” her Mr. Darcy teased his sister.
“Oh yes, of course, I am so sorry, Miss Elizabeth. Please do not feel obligated to eat all of that … but of course if you do, that is also all right. I mean, of course it is, because it is the food, the food on your plate.”
Elizabeth placed her plate on an empty table and laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “Miss Darcy, I assure you I am nothing but flattered and pleased with your kind attention. I look forward to sampling everything you have selected for me.” With that, Elizabeth picked up the overflowing dish and sat down.
Georgiana gave Elizabeth a grateful smile and took her place on the settee. After a few moments of quiet enjoyment, it was determined that the food tasted just as good as it looked.
“Mr. Darcy, I hope we can find time to discuss the book sometime soon.” Though sincere, Elizabeth heard the timidity in her voice. Though the family had put her at ease, the house and, to a lesser extent, its occupants still daunted her a little.
“What book is that?” one Mr. Darcy asked while the other, at the same time, said, “Of course we must.”
“Oh dear, this can be a problem,” the elder Mr. Darcy said with a chuckle. “As I anticipate we will be much in each other’s company, we should resolve the Mr. Darcy dilemma. Our usual solution of calling my son simply Darcy is obviously not appropriate here. I am afraid you will have to muddle through Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy whenever you must address this one,” he nodded to his son. “As I claim all rights to being THE Mr. Darcy.”
“As you should, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth answered.
“In the alternative—Miss Elizabeth could address you as old Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy offered, his tone and affect entirely serious.
“She certainly will not, you rascal,” the father replied, and they all laughed. At that moment, someone new entered the room. She curtsied to the group, and the Mr. Darcys rose. Before either could perform the introduction, Miss Darcy rose as well.
“Miss Baxter, may I present my dear friend Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Miss Elizabeth, this is my governess, Mrs. Baxter.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Elizabeth. I have heard a great deal about you.”
“I am pleased to meet you as well.”
“Please, come and partake, Miss Baxter. There is so much.” Georgiana guided her governess to the food trays, and the two spoke together for a few moments.
“Let us return to the matter of Gulliver’s Travels, Miss Elizabeth. When shall we schedule our discussion?”
“I am at your disposal, Mr. Darcy,” she assured him. “I am certain Miss Darcy will want to join us as well. Or have you two already canvassed the book together?”
“You will be unsurprised to find that she did not want to discuss it until you could participate,” he told her with an indulgent smile at his daughter, who had rejoined them.
Miss Baxter took a seat to the side of the party and seemed content to enjoy her food and observe. Elizabeth guessed her to be her Aunt Gardiner’s age—somewhere between five and twenty and thirty. Her lovely auburn hair must have been rather long, as the tight braid she wore it in was wrapped several times around itself on the back of her head. Her eyes were a light blue, and she stood little taller than Elizabeth’s diminutive five feet. The dress she wore was simple and modest, the collar was high and the fit was not tight. As she observed the governess, Elizabeth was struck by how lonely her position might be in the house. Not quite a servant but not part of the family. She was prevented from any deeper musings on this peculiarity when Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy addressed her.
“I wonder, Miss Elizabeth, did you perchance read the book my father gifted you last summer?” he asked. “I confess it was my idea and, in retrospect, may not have been quite the thing for a young girl. I apologise if it was not of interest.”
