"I have no particular interest in ornithology."
Of course not. I have had great trouble finding a conversational topic that interests Dora. No matter. That is a battle for another day.
"I suppose if he is going to nest on my head we should be on more familiar terms than a scientific name anyway. I think he looks like a Bartholomew. Bart the Bird. What do you think?"
Mrs. Vane sighed the sigh of the much put upon. I excel at causing Mama to sigh in just the same manner. Oddly I felt a sudden burst of affection for Mrs. Vane.
"I think you try to be provoking and it is not an attractive quality. My nephew cannot appreciate it."
"What do I not appreciate?" I am beginning to believe Mr. Darcy has some sort of supernatural sense of when he is being talked about. Either that or he eavesdrops. I turned to face him.
"Oh—arrgh" a strangled, undignified sound I never thought to hear from my husbandescaped his lips. He took a step forward, raised his hand and then dropped it, the whole movement a quick awkward little spasm. I think he was going to attack the headdress. Truly I'm touched. I now know that if I was being assaulted by an exotic bird my husband cares enough to intervene.
"That is a very interesting. . . ."
Abomination, that is the word you are looking for, Mr. Darcy.
"Why. . . ."
Why the hell do you have a bird on your head? That is the question, isn't it?
"Fitzwilliam, what do you think of this headpiece for Elizabeth? Charming, isn't it?"
I tried to make my expression show how very much I did not like the bird as to give him permission to criticize it thoroughly.
"I do not like it. It is—"
Hideous. Please, say hideous. It really needs to be said.
"Ostentatious."
Mrs. Vane huffed in frustration. "She needs something to make her look matronly. People will not know she is married."
"Her ring is indication enough, I should think."
Darcy has not taken his eyes off me since he entered the room. Finally I have his full attention. Of course he is giving me a look of horror . . . so, not precisely what I had been hoping for.
"I really do not think it would be wise of me wear it. What if it catches on? The trend would escalate from here and soon we would all be wearing geese on our heads. Think of the neck ache."
Darcy's lips quirked at my little jest. He did not even try to hide it. He smiled at me! In front of other people!
Mrs. Vane, completely unaware of the importance of the moment, said "The object of fashion is never to be the one with the goose on your head. One is meant tobegintrends not follow them through to their ridiculous conclusions."
"This bird will be the ridiculous conclusion to my social life." There I said it. I have tried not to insult her taste, but some things cannot be endured.
Darcy pressed his lips together firmly. I think he is holding back laughter. This gives mea strange sense of accomplishment.
"A statement piece must be a little ostentatious. You simply do not understand it. Here, let me try it on."
With the help of the milliner's assistant I am freed of Bartholomew. And now he is being pinned to Mrs. Vane's head. My day has improved substantially.
"See, it is striking when one knows how to wear it," said Mrs. Vane once the headdress was arranged.
Darcy, Georgiana, and I cocked our heads to the side and murmured a collective "Huh."
It actually looked quite good on her.
"You have the features for it, madame," said the milliner, glowing with the triumph of having his creation properly displayed.
