Finally she spoke: “You read aloud very well, sir. That was a pleasure.”
He said, “I made two new lists. One is short and serious. The other is a bit longer and seriously silly.”
“Serious first, please,” Elizabeth said. Her eyes twinkled, but when she saw the list of things to be accomplished before getting married, her face became solemn.
Darcy explained, “I just wished to show you how much I must accomplish before we can wed, so you can keep that in mind as we continue to get to know one another. If you ever signal your readiness, we can rapidly become engaged (Item Number 1), but it will take some time to accomplish Items Number 2 through 7 and actually marry.”
“’Tis a daunting list,” she murmured.
He shrugged. “And yet I remain undaunted. Whenever you are ready.… Well, just let me know.”
He took out the second list and handed it to his beloved. “Now for the serious-yet-silly list.”
She began to laugh even as she read the first item. “Oh, dear, all that mud,” she murmured. “I suppose mud and muck, mire and murk will take on great importance in our future marriage, since you say it brings you happy memories.”
“Perhaps so, but I shall steadfastly refuse to allow those four words to swell to such prominence that we name our four sons Mud, Muck, Mire, and Murk.”
Elizabeth chuckled and said, “By all means, we willnotname our four sons thusly. Instead, those will be the names of our four daughters.”
Darcy swallowed the guffaw that rose in his throat and instead just beamed at his beloved, saying, “I always enjoy your teases, and especially now that we are teasing as if it is settled that we will soon marry and have at least eight children.”
“Nay! It is not at all settled, sir! As you have pointed out, seven tasks remain. It is not quite the level of Herculean labours, but it shall all take more than a week—perhaps as long as a fortnight—to accomplish.”
Laughing at each of the remaining items on the silly list, Elizabeth finished and said, “I will have you know, sir, that before I met you, I had heard many things about you from Mr Bingley and especially Miss Bingley. I had understood you to be a very serious sort of man, so high in social stature and so lofty in your wealth and connexions, I would never have dreamt you could be silly.”
“I feel certain that you also noticed that Miss Bingley might not be a credible source on…well, almost any topic.”
“Granted. Still, I wonder if you have ever shown your silly side to the Lady Patronesses who control access to Almack’s, to the dukes and earls of your acquaintance, to the various members of theton.
“I believe it is safe to guarantee that I have not. As a matter of fact, although I do have relaxed relationships with Bingley and with my cousin Richard—and there certainly is some raillery between those gentlemen and myself—I rarely even use the wordsilly, let alone lower my reserve enough to act in such a way.”
“Why have you shown your silly side to me?”
“I little know. Lack of sleep, perhaps?”
“Lack of sleep?” Elizabeth sounded incredulous. Darcy turned to her, wondering how much he should explain about his nighttime bliss and torture, but she reached out one of her hands and gently touched the area under his left eye. “Ohhh, you do look different from the first time I saw you.”
He blushed, knowing that the change was not for the better. He could hardly stand to see his own face in the mirror and was very glad that his valet shaved him, to spare him the task of studying his own visage carefully each morning.
But Darcy also took advantage of Elizabeth’s bold touch, and he took her hand before she could retract it. He kissed it and then kept it within his own.
Elizabeth said, “I hope you did not feel insulted, sir. You still look very handsome, but just as I noticed the second morning of our acquaintance, you look….”
She seemed incapable of specifying how he looked. He chuckled and suggested, “…As if I had spent the night on a bed of thorns?”
She laughed a bubbly, infectious laugh. “I was not going to saythorns, sir. I was hoping it was merely a matter of a few lumps in the mattress! A few wrinkles in the snowy perfection of your fine linen sheets.”
“I am no Sybarite!” he said. “It is just that I have a new nightly routine of waking up seven to nine times per night in order to spend half of every hour in vigorous exercise.”
“Vigorous exercise?”
“Yes. Are you familiar with the sport of tossing? Or, perhaps, the related sport of turning?”
“Something causes you disquiet.”
“Someonecauses me disquiet, actually.”
Elizabeth turned to look into Darcy’s eyes. She looked affronted; her eyes practically sparked in irritation. “You blameme?” she demanded.
