“I would not know. I do not recall ever noticing designs on her handkerchiefs. Though she did make this one for me.” He pulled a large linen square out of his pocket and displayed it. “Only FD in blue, as she always does.”
“Men do not flaunt elaborate handkerchiefs, I suppose,” she said, nodding sagely. “Simple initials will work very well.”
“I shall have to ask what hers looks like when I next write.” A shadow crossed his face, disappearing almost as soon as she noted it.
“Is Miss Darcy in town?”
He nodded. “She stays with my aunt, Lady Matlock. We have arranged to have masters come to her. Georgiana is especially eager to work with a music master. Her skill at the instrument increases daily. She will be as talented as Miss Mary someday, I believe.”
“Mary is by far the most dedicated of the Bennet ladies.” Elizabeth shook her head ruefully. “I shall never compare. Jane never learned, and the younger girls have shown only passing interest.”
“Does your brother play? I know it is not the usual accomplishment for a gentleman. My mother insisted I master an instrument, and I have long believed her views to be anything but the norm in our society.”
“Thomas does not play an instrument, but he has a fine singing voice. Pray, tell me, do you also play the piano?” She lifted her gaze from her handkerchief to find him watching her intently. She blushed, wondering what his steady appraisal meant.
“I play the violin,” he said finally. “It is a difficult instrument, and I picked it because my cousin said I would never be able to master it.”
“Did you prove him wrong?”
His lips curled up into a smile. “I did. I play for Richard whenever we are in company so that he will never forget it.”
They laughed together, and Elizabeth reflected that she very much enjoyed his company. The sense of being watched prevailed, and she glanced across the room toward Jane. Mr. Bingley appeared to be paying her sister attention, but as she met his gaze, she knew it was his stares she felt.
“Pray, tell me, have I done something to offend your friend?” she asked hesitantly.
Mr. Darcy’s brow furrowed, and he followed her gaze. Mr. Bingley no longer watched them, and he turned an inquiring look to her. “I am not sure what you mean,” he said.
“It is only that he stares at me very often,” she replied. “His looks are fervent and confused. I worry that I have done something to upset him. If I have, I would make amends. Jane likes him very much, and I would not wish to ruin anything for her.”
“He pays your sister a great deal of attention. And I must admit I have noted his peculiar looks in your direction. But I cannot tell you what he may be thinking.” Darcy sighed. “I have never known Bingley to be anything other than amiable and considerate to everyone he encounters.”
“Then he is very much like Jane in that respect.” She shrugged. “I shall not think ill of him unless evidence compels such unfavorable emotions. I am not formed for dwelling in displeasure, unhappiness, or misery, and seek to cast negative sentiments off as soon as I am able.”
“Would that I possessed your disposition,” he said fervently.
“It is not so very difficult. One must resolve to be of good cheer and then work toward maintaining that manner.”
He frowned. “And what of the trials of life? How do you manage to escape dwelling on that which is uncomfortable, unfortunate, or upsetting?” He seemed genuinely curious, and Elizabeth resolved to be as open as she could.
“It is not an easy thing all the time.” She paused. “I imagine that for one who has experienced much hardship, it must be difficult to keep a positive outlook on their life, or to see past the misery to the good things. I have always tried to find that for which I can be grateful, because that which upsets and disturbs cannot linger in my thoughts when compared to all the blessings that I have.” She glanced meaningfully at her sisters. “I have been raised in a comfortable home and have felt the love of good people. There are many with so much less than I. To be ungrateful would be the height of insult to them and to my family.”
She wondered if she had said too much, for his brow creased again, this time in confusion, before he nodded slowly. “Yours is an admirable point of view,” he said. “Thank you for sharing it. I shall attempt to apply your lessons in my life. Mayhap I might impart this new understanding to those I love.”
Elizabeth wondered if he meant Miss Darcy, for he always seemed a little sad when he spoke of his sister. Uncomfortable, she changed the subject.
“Is Mrs. Hurst always so…” she trailed off, glancing at the lady who sat next to Jane and Mr. Bingley.
“Superior? She does hold a high opinion of herself,” Darcy confirmed. “Bingley is not so close to Mrs. Hurst as he is to his younger sister. I understand that the former spent much of her formative years in London attending school and living with an elderly aunt.”
“I could not imagine leaving my family behind,” she replied vehemently. “How very dreadful to even consider such a thing.”
“Many families send their children to school. Did your brother go?”
She nodded. “Yes, Thomas was the exception. Papa would have sent us girls if we had asked, but we never did. We had a governess. Miss Lynd is still here for Kitty and Lydia. And my father always allowed us into his study. His books were ours to peruse, and I assure you, I have read nearly every one of them.” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow challengingly.
“Ah, so that is why you excel at the art of debate! Did your brother also master it likewise by reading from your father’s library?” Darcy looked impressed, and she smiled.
“Mr. Bennet argued the finer points of every book we read.” She shook her head. “He would have us so wrapped in knots that we had quite forgotten our point by the time the debate ended. I have always considered experience to be the best teacher. As we aged, he allowed us to participate when he discussed heavy topics with certain gentlemen in the area. Mr. Phillips, Sir William, Mr. Goulding…those who would help us in our education instead of disparaging our efforts and lack of experience.”
