“What I mean is…”
“Oh, I know your meaning, sir. Can we walk?” she tugged at his arm a little impatiently, “I am afraid I may lose my nerve if we tarry much longer.”
They fell into step. After a few moments Darcy smiled and said in averypointed way, “I apologise for tarrying, Miss Bennet. I heard that you were impatient.”
Her mouth fell open. “Youheardthat?”
“Yes. You gave me permission to find out about you, did you not? I made a survey of the locals.”
“The local gossips, you mean. Who else would be so crass?” she retorted with energy and then looked sidelong at him. A small,wicked smile appeared on her lips, “What did they say aboutyou?”
“I did not ask them.”
“How unfair. I must insist that you do, sir. For every word they told you about me, you must tell me two words they have said about you.”
“I do not know any.”
“I am sure you can guess.” she teased, and then shook her head with a sigh, He looked utterly implacable. “Mr. Darcy, we are here because we need to find out about each other. Since the rest of our lives rely on this conversation, we might as well get started.”
“Would a list of words be sufficient to outline my character, madam?”
“It seemed to help you form an impression of mine! What other words did they tell you? And what opinions did they help you form? I am impatient, yes. I dislike being the last to find things out, and I like to make my own judgements before others tell me their own. I am also idle, because for much of our childhood we had no governess to teach us the value of routine and discipline. I do not practice my scales, and I sing very ill. I like reading but am no scholar. My favourite food is mutton. There, will that do?”
“I think I know even less about you now than I did before, Miss Bennet.” he laughed, shaking his head. “I dislike mutton.”
“Capital offence! What is your opinion about chutney?”
“I confess that I have none. Does anybody?”
“Only the very tedious.”
“Then I shall continue to be indifferent to it.”
“Very wise. And do you like to dance, Mr. Darcy?”
So it was that, bit by bit, they relaxed into their conversation. The hill proved to be further away than it had first appeared, and at times the rise was so steep as to pause their conversation altogether.
When they reached the crest, where the trail began, Elizabeth pointed out a few of the distant sights on the horizon. Although he had lived here for several months, Darcy had spent very little time exploring the area. Elizabeth had a great love for the countryside, and a softly humorous way of describing it that was a pleasure to listen to. It was quite a jolt to Darcy, then, when she abruptly changed the subject.
“Will you tell me about your sister?”
“My sister?” he hesitated, feeling his throat close up. Elizabeth looked sympathetically at him, and Darcy knew how much pain must be written clearly on his face.
“I am sorry. You do not need to tell me anything. I just thought that, since you asked me to care for her, I should know a little about her.”
“About her illness?”
“No sir, unless you think it inescapable to talk about such things. I want to know abouther.”
Darcy gave her a quick, grateful smile, “I can do that, Miss Bennet.”
It was an easy subject, and one that he enjoyed immensely. It had been a long time since anybody had asked after Georgiana with anything other than concern. It was as if his bright-eyed, sweet little songbird no longer existed.
How Darcy longed to see her sit at the piano, or embroider, or open a book! They were all things she loved, he told Elizabeth, and yet there was more. There was Georgiana’s dear nature, her way of looking at the world as if even the banal things in it were beautiful. What of her generosity, which went far beyond her expected duties into something wholly good? Darcy painted a glowing picture of his sister, with all the love he possessed, and then stopped when a shy hand touched his shoulder.
“Please,” Elizabeth said softly, “Mr. Darcy, you are unwell.”
He looked down at her in surprise, then laughed hoarsely and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I am not unwell, Miss Bennet. I miss my sister, and speaking of her is….”
