"I had it redone recently. I have not selected things to be put back."
He cast a strange smile in my direction. Was it meant to be appeasing? Friendly? This conversation had clearly discomposed him. Interesting. "But I have things," he added.
"I believe you," I said calmly, wearing the sort of superior smile of a person who has scored a point against an enemy (how I had scored said point or what game we were playing mattered little). Then I ruined my aura of awesomeness by taking a sip from my empty tea cup. I had forgotten.
"The rest of the house is, of course, yours to redecorate."
"To redecorate," I repeated stupidly.
"Yes, I know little of fashion, but I imagine much of this is out of date," he said with a lazy circle of his wrist indicating the room, "It should be redone. The public rooms at the very least."
I looked around as if I had not been sitting in this room for the last hour. And discovered another clock (really,fiveclocks). It did have a rather 90's ambiance. But I knew nothing of redecorating. Mama never redecorated the house, at least not all at once. Not even a whole room at once. She just bought things when they struck her fancy and threw them in alongside the old things. Large redecorating projects took a lot of focus. And money.
A thought struck me. "It was your mother, then, who decorated these rooms last?"
He nodded.
"Will you not be sad to see the style altered, the things she chose removed?"
"Certainly I will. But it must happen. We cannot dwell in the past forever. Quite literally in this case." He spoke composedly, but a pall of anguish crossed his features. I was glad to see it. Not that I was enjoying his pain. I was glad to see his vulnerability, perhaps.
"Your mother must have had good taste. And really liked clocks," I said to break the tension.
He chuckled half-heartedly. For awhile we sat in silence, enjoyingSymphony with Five Clocksagain.
"I do smoke. When the occasion calls for it. However, I do not like to. It yellows the teeth," Darcy said, I think for just something to say. Or perhaps he really wanted me to know he could smoke. It might be taken as a stain upon his manhood if he could not breath fire like all the other boys.
"Are you vain, Mr. Darcy?" I asked archly.
"Can the preservation of such perfection be considered vanity? I rather thought my abstinence demonstrated the proper appreciation of art," he said with much mock arrogance.
Darcy had made a jest! Of course I have heard him make jests before, but this one had a certain self-depreciating charm; he knew I thought him arrogant and was willing to tease himself a little.
Was this flirting? Could I be flirting with my husband?
Before I could find the answer to this most important question, Georgiana came sweeping into the room looking very grave indeed and completely disregarding the fact that her brother and I were kind of having a moment.
"We have a problem," she announced.
"The difficulty I warned you about?" Darcy asked.
Georgiana nodded vigorously, her eyes wide with fear. Though one might call my sister-in-law timid, I did not think her subject to fits of hysteria. Whatever this difficulty was it must be fearsome indeed.
Darcy did not appear to share Georgiana's terror. With a sigh he stood, adjusting his cravat and smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles from his coat as though he had all the time in the world. Apparently the matter was irritating, but not pressing. His garments thus attended to he announced "I shall address it."
"Stay," he added as Georgiana and I made to follow him from the room.
Issuing such an imperious command was the least likely way to keep me from following. When will he learn?
Seemingly untroubled by being spoken to like a dog, Georgiana sank gratefully into the nearest chair. I, of course, trailed Darcy into the corridor.
Darcy heaved another great sigh, but made no remark about my disobedience. Instead he said, "This will not be pleasant."
"What is the difficulty?" I asked.
"My intractable aunt is here."
"Of course Mrs. Vane is here. It would be rather remarkable if she was not."
