Page 111 of Colour My World
“Why would he speak of her? To you?”
“I remind him of her.”
Elizabeth’s stomach dropped like a stone. He had never mentioned his family to her. Not once. “What else?”
“She is younger. Shy, I think. But he says Georgiana—that is her name—lives in Town.”
“He mentioned her by name?”
“He smiled as he spoke of her.”
Elizabeth pressed her fingertips to her forehead. She counted to five. Slowly. “Did you speak of… local matters? The neighbourhood?”
“We did. He is quite elegant when one listens, rather than interrupt.”
Elizabeth stared at her. That had been Mr Darcy’s very phrasing at the Meryton bookshop, delivered in the driest possible tone. Not flirtation but an observation. Elizabeth glared at her sister. “You are enjoying this.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Jane turned and walked away.
Elizabeth groaned.She cares not that she turned my world sideways.The rhythm between them—once easy—had changed, and she could not name the tune. So, she followed.
Where else could she go? She shut the door with more force than necessary. She saw only Jane—seated in the window seat, an odd smile on her face.
“You are stealing him.”
Jane blinked. “Pardon?”
“Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth said, arms crossed. “You are stealing him from me.”
“I was unaware he belonged to you.”
Elizabeth flushed. “That is not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth. She could think of nothing to say that did not betray her.
Jane folded her hands. “Mr Darcy has done nothing morethan walk with me and converse politely. As you walked with Mr Bingley.”
“Yes, but why did Mr Darcy walk with you?”
Jane arched a brow. “Would you rather he walked with you?”
Elizabeth sputtered. “That is—that is irrelevant.”
“Of course.”
Elizabeth threw up her hands. “You are impossible.”
“Ehem.”
Elizabeth jumped. Jane straightened and smoothed her skirt. Their father plucked something from his pocket and hand it to Mrs Ecclestone. “To the victor go the spoils.”
“What—what is that?” Elizabeth could feel her face stretch in embarrassment.
Mrs Bennet waved a hand. “Oh, nothing, my dear.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Papa.”
