Page 89 of Colour My World
“No, but she did open my eyes.”
“Yes, she does that for others without even trying….”
Bennet lifted an eyebrow. “But?”
Sorrow passed across Jane’s face. “But never for herself.”
He took her hand. “You are a very clever girl. Do not allow your looks to force you into an unequal marriage. You have more to offer than your mother’s beauty.”
Jane squeezed his hand. “Your perspicacity, Papa?”
Bennet chuckled. “Only if you see it that way.”
A knock on the door warned Bennet that Elizabeth had returned. “Am I permitted to listen now?”
Bennet sighed theatrically. “Very well, Lizzy. Let us discuss what you have yet to open your eyes to.”
Elizabeth lifted her chin. “I see quite well, Papa.”
Bennet grunted. “Do you?”
Chapter 31
Bennet clasped his hands behind his back and regarded Jane as though seeing a familiar painting in an unexpected light. “Well, my dear, I shall leave you to your convalescence. Do not allow your mother’s enthusiasm for your recovery to result in an untimely demise.”
As Jane laughed, he turned towards Elizabeth. “As for you, Lizzy, I find myself in need of a guide. Shall we see if Mr Bingley has managed to elevate his book room beyond the sorry state of Meryton’s circulating library? Or will I be forced to lament the tragedy of wasted shelves?”
“I doubt he has had the time or the inclination to do so.”
“Then I shall content myself by mourning the oversight.” He gestured towards the door. “Come, let us see what dreadful state the collection is in.”
They followed a footman through the corridor and down the staircase. When in comfortable silence. Though the storm had passed, the air still held the damp hush of rain. When the library door was opened and they stepped inside, the room was unoccupied. Bennet cast a glance over the shelves and gave a soft tsk of disapproval.
“As I feared. A collection assembled for appearance, not for use.”
He pulled out a volume, inspected it, and placed it back, his nose wrinkled as if the book were a rotten fish. “Ah, but no matter. It serves my purpose well enough. Now, Lizzy, tell me everything.”
Elizabeth folded her arms. “I have already told Jane—”
“Who is not me,” he interrupted. “Now, begin.”
She sighed. “It was the usual. Miss Bingley displayed her sharp tongue, and Mr Bingley attempted to temper her, whichshe ignored.”
Bennet hummed, unimpressed. “And?”
“Mrs Hurst surprised me. I should think we could be friends.”
“Mrs Ecclestone expressed the same sentiment,” he said.
“An admirable recommendation.”
“Indeed.”
He gestured for her to continue.
“And then, Mr Darcy defended me.”
“And that, I suspect, is what troubles you.”
