Page 75 of The Cheapside Runners
“I never apologised for that.”
“Why?Younever trapped me in a library.”
“I was too disbelieving.”
She shrugged. “I met a lady once who said tothink only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.I thought it anadmirable sentiment at the time, but now I find it slightly naïve. I have to be cautious that my profession does not make me think only of the past as its remembrance annoys me beyond measure. That leads to bitterness and regret, but one needs to balance the good with the bad. You must strive to overcome the blinders of your upbringing, just as we all do.”
“I hope I have made an adequate start.”
“I can assure you that not every man would stand there and listen to what I had to say at Netherfield as gracefully as you did. I walked into that room half-expecting to walk to Longbourn at five, an activity I was not looking forward to.”
“I could have done better.”
“Your presence in this parlour, right here and now, indicates you did well enough. We shallbothhave to overcome certain elements of the past.”
“I believe that is true, which brings us back to trust, as you alluded to earlier. I do not believe there can be love without trust.”
“I agree. Love requires trust… kindness… strength… character… patience… courage. It is a difficult road we travel.”
Darcy chuckled. “You shall have to review your advice to Miss Kitty.Most worthwhile things in life are hard.”
“That they are, but I think we have made a good enough beginning for one day. We have beat the rules of propriety nearly to death, but I think they are mostly counterproductive at this stage. Honest conversation, as difficult or supposedly improper as it might be, seems the only path to success.”
“You never answered the question about what your girls are doing today. Was that deliberate?”
“No, I just got distracted. Believe it or not, after last night’s demonstration, the girls asked for another Brutality Day.”
“Not my business, then?”
She paused a moment. “I very strongly recommended tothe girls to never tell any man about that except their future husbands.”
“You make exceptions for husbands that do not apply to guardians?”
“Of course. Every secret between husbands and wives is a crack that can grow into a fissure. I will not assert that there can benosecrets, but there should be few.”
“Well, I am not your husband yet…” he said, then glanced to see if she was frowning or not. “…so I shall not ask to know.”
She was pensive for a moment. “Actually, you should eventually know all about the course, and you will never have an easier class to observe.”
He very much liked the fact that she was thinking as if they would be a couple. He could not say whether their mutual affections were climbing, or if she was simply acting on her prohibition against pessimism. He knew the easiest way to make any endeavour fail was to assume it was likely to do so, and the converse was probably true. If they wanted to become a couple, they should just act as if they would eventually be one.
She stood up abruptly. “Enough courting for one day! Time for some brutality.”
Elizabeth asked the maid to call for Darcy’s carriage, and they were off.
~~~~~
The ladies of the class were most disconcerted by the appearance of a gentleman. Darcy was uncertain if they were most worried about their unladylike behaviour, or that they were wearing the ugliest gowns ever made. Their consternation was not helped overly much by Elizabeth telling them to quit whining in Mrs Black’s voice.
Jasmine softened it by observing that they had been training with the two ogres for two days, and one man was pretty much the same as another, which softened their discomfort a bit.
Muted grumbling continued until Georgiana enthusiastically showed off her ability to smash the second hardest of the chalk boxes with a single blow. Darcy was entirely appreciative and enthusiastic in his approbation, which naturally made the rest of the ladies anxious to earn their share of the accolades.
Elizabeth explained that she had boxes of different strengths, and Georgiana had worked her way up. She allowed him to smash a couple of them just for fun, and the ladies got some real pleasure from that—especially the part where he failed on the first punch with the box that she said was a match for his size and physique.
That was nothing though, compared to the ultimate pleasure derived from watching plain old Lizzy Bennet, dressed in a pretty blue muslim day dress, toss him over her shoulder and drop him onto a mat like a sack of potatoes.
He laughed his head off, though it took some time to get enough breath to do so.
