"Witches."
Belinda scrunched up her nose. Clearly witches were hardly sinister enough to be interesting.
"And ghosts. And it is set in Scotland."
"Perhaps I'll like it then," she said doubtfully.
"Do you want anything else?" Darcy asked, addressing Henrietta.
"I'd like to readTom Jones."
"Your mother will have my head if I let you readTom Jones. Anything else?"
"Why can I not read it? You have read it, have you not?"
"I have."
"What is so very bad about it?"
"Nothing . . . much."
"All Mother will tell me is that it is low."
"There are subjects within it not entirely appropriate for the sensibilities of a young lady."
Henrietta scoffed and rolled her eyes. I cannot fault her for the eye rolling. That was the only reply such a declaration deserved.
I wonder if he would letmereadTom Jones?
"How did you come to hear ofTom Jonesanyway?"
Miss Hopkins trembled. She shook her head vigorously to proclaim her innocence though Darcy was not looking her way.
"Uncle James recommended it."
"Of course," said Darcy with a sigh of exasperation. "Have some consideration for me, keep to your Burney and Edgeworth and be happy."
"After I finish these last two books I will have read everything. Everything.Everything.And there will be nothing else to do. I suppose I will have to become more troublesome."
"You will have read all books ever written exceptingTom Jones? How remarkable. I knew you were a great reader, but I had not suspected you had attained so complete an accomplishment."
Henrietta pouted winsomely. Darcy stared unaffectedly back at her. Turning to the younger sister he asked, "Miss Belinda what do you require?"
"I want something about torture."
"You wish for a manual outlining proper procedure?"
"I want a history. Something about someone who did something really bad and was sent to the Tower. Anything that ends in drawing and quartering is best."
"What a gruesome little thing you are," said Darcy with affection. "I believe I possess a history of the Tower of London. Might that quench your slightly alarming thirst for the grim and grisly?"
"Let's have it."
Darcy strode across the room in pursuit of the book and I had to dart from my hiding place and squat down behind another shelf to prevent discovery. I know, I know. I should declare myself. Lurking here is strange and if I am found out we will perhaps have an answer to the age old question: Can one actually die of mortification? But I know if I show myself Darcy will find he has something he desperately needs do in another part of the house. Or perhaps another part of England entirely. So I will keep myself unnoticed and learn what I can. Call this a fact gathering mission.
"There are some fine engravings of executions and various torture machines, I believe," said Darcy as he handed the book to Belinda.
"Oh, goody."
