Page 16 of The Cherry Trees of Rosings
“Let me arrange the writing desk, then we may begin.”
“You wish to write the letter now?” he asked as she moved past him with the candle.
“Well, to be honest,” she glanced at him. “I would prefer to sleep. But since you are here, I do not see why not.”
“I apologize–”
“It is no matter,” Elizabeth said again, quickly, before matters got any more awkward.
She pointed to the other chair in her room that she had set up beside the writing desk just for this. “You may sit here if you please.”
Mr. Darcy shifted uncomfortably once more. He did not seem to know what to do with his hands. Elizabeth looked away, settling herself in her own chair.
Moments later, once Mr. Darcy was in the chair she had offered him, and she was arranging paper and ink, he spoke unexpectedly.
“I usually find myself here—in Hunsford, I mean—in the mornings or afternoons.”
Elizabeth paused.
“I cannot discern a pattern in that regard.”
Their eyes met.
“I try to look for a stray post, or a newspaper, to get my bearings,” he added.
Elizabeth settled back in her chair, letting go of the papers in her hand.
“...but I am always here in the evenings,” Mr. Darcy said. He seemed to go red at that.
“I try to wander about the house. I can walk through doors… as you know.”
He trailed off. The silence grew awkward between them once more.
Elizabeth shifted in her seat even as her cheeks flamed. She was not certain what perturbed her more. The thought of Mr. Darcy watching her while she was asleep. Or sharing such an unexpected—and frankly disconcerting—intimacy with the last man she would wish to share such a thing with.
She bit her lip. “Well… should we begin?”
“Yes,” Mr. Darcy said, hurriedly.
But Elizabeth paused once more.
“Mr. Darcy…?” She looked at him. “I wonder how you change colour.” She grew a tad red in the face. “I meant, when you are embarrassed. Should not ghostly presences have… er, a fixed visage?”
His eyebrows climbed up his forehead.
“I did not know I did that.”
“Oh.”
Then Elizabeth glanced at the mirror in the room.
“Have you, perchance, tried to glimpse at your reflection?”
“Yes…” he said, looking embarrassed once more. “I… could not see one.”
Elizabeth looked at him, shocked. “Truly?”
“Yes.”
