Page 47 of Conundrums & Coincidences

Underway, and with all the nonchalance of perfect amity, the four engaged in unreserved conversation. But it was not as chaperon, attorney, and beneficiaries. Rather, it was as four friends. Soon the gentlemen had dispensed with ‘mister’ before one another’s names, and the ladies were on first-name terms.

Good-humoured pleasantry continued and progressed to frivolity when Elizabeth, in the highest of spirits, suggested a few rounds of Short Answers.

“In this game,” said she, “you must reply to each question with a single syllable word. If your answer is too long, a penalty will be exacted for each additional syllable.” Mirthful eyes turned his way as she added, “I fear Mr Darcy will be at a disadvantage in this exercise. I have it on good authority he studies too much for words of four syllables.”

Had Miss Rigby not been looking his way, Darcy might have winked.

“To make things more difficult, neither enquiries nor replies may be repeated. Any player who does so incurs a forfeit. And because the aim is to become better acquainted with one another, your responses should be truthful. Grace, please begin by asking something of Mr Monroe.”

“At this moment, sir, what do you most like about your life?”

Darcy glanced at the attorney beside him on the rear-facing seat. Tread carefully, Monroe. There is only one possible answer to that question.

Mr Monroe replied, “You.” In turn, he asked the smiling woman across from him which colour she would recommend for a carriage’s leather interior.

“Blue.”

“Then blue the interior of our new carriage will be.”

Elizabeth’s turn was next. “In your opinion, Mr Darcy, what is the silliest word in the English language?”

Is that what you truly wish to know about me, Elizabeth? Very well. He was about to reply ‘bomboon’ but remembered the one syllable rule. Flibbertigibbet…taradiddle…widdershins. Three times he had opened and shut his mouth. By Jove, I do favour polysyllabic words. “Erf,” he blurted.

“Erf?” Elizabeth smiled at him. “Surely erf is not a word. Is it?”

“From the Dutch word for ‘inheritance’, erf means a plot of land.”

“But I clearly said in the English language, sir.”

“Yes, I know. But Cape Town was retaken by our troops in the year six,” said Darcy. “I predict one day the cape will become part of our empire. Ergo, erf will become part of our language.”

He incurred a forfeit.

Before he could ask her any sort of question, the game was abandoned in favour of further discussion of Elizabeth’s inheritance and property.

Darcy wondered and worried what she would think, feel, or do if ever she found out he had let her win the tournament. Elizabeth must never discover the truth.

But deceit was despicable. What a conundrum he had created for himself.

23

UNTIL MR DARCY

Their journey from Oakwood to London had not ended as auspiciously as it had begun.

After the ‘erf’ dispute, Mr Darcy had become an altered creature, reverting to the reticent gentleman with whom Elizabeth first had been acquainted in Hertfordshire. Rather than aloofness, though, he seemed to have been deep in thought or mired in melancholy, and she had no notion what had caused such a change in him.

When Mr Darcy’s carriage stopped in front of the Gardiners’ house on Gracechurch Street, the attorney hopped out to assist the ladies to alight. Mr Darcy was the last to step down; but when he did, he smiled and offered his arm to Elizabeth, who said, “I am pleased to see the return of your smile, sir.”

“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours, madam,” he responded with a wider grin.

Her joy could have no moderation when three of her favourite people, who must have been watching for their arrival, appeared at the door. “Aunt Gardiner! Uncle Gardiner! Papa!” She flew into the latter’s embrace, and it took several minutes to give any degree of tranquillity to her heart.

“Congratulations, my dear Lizzy,” said her father. “I knew you could not be so intelligent for nothing.” He looked over her shoulder. “But I see you have brought guests with you. Including Mr Darcy, of all people.”

Once Elizabeth had made the necessary introductions and received congratulations from her relations, everyone was invited into the pretty parlour that Mrs Gardiner had made so warm and welcoming.

Mr Darcy spoke of how pleased he was to meet her relations, and he even complimented her aunt on the lovely room. Unprepared for such civility, Elizabeth barely suppressed a smirk at his acceptance of the very people against whom his pride had revolted during his offer to her at Hunsford.