Page 55 of Mr. Darcy's Folly
Darcy glared at his cousin. “That was not my answer.”
Fitz patted him on the shoulder, far too pleased with himself. “I shall deliver it at once.” He sauntered toward the door with the confidence of a man who had absolutely not done what was asked of him and was entirely unbothered by it.
Darcy wanted to hear the riddle that Elizabeth had sent him. “Fitz!”
Miss de Bourgh delivered the message with perfect composure, her expression as mild as ever, though there was a telltale glint in her eyes. “Darcy has sent his reply,” she announced.
Elizabeth sat up with eager anticipation, brushing a few stray curls from her face.
“And?”
“His answer is ‘oblivion.’”
Elizabeth blinked, then burst into laughter so forceful that she doubled over, clutching her ribs and nearly upsetting the tea tray.
Jane, who had been stirring honey into her tea with great serenity, gasped and lunged just in time, steadying the tray before disaster struck. “Lizzy!”
Anne, watching with cool amusement, arched a brow. “I assume that is not the correct answer?”
Elizabeth, still struggling for breath, waved a hand. “Not even remotely.”
Aunt Gardiner, who had until now remained the picture of restraint, let out a long, weary sigh.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she muttered.
Miss de Bourgh tilted her head, clearly entirely too entertained by the situation. “What was it supposed to be?”
Elizabeth pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, attempting to regain her composure before wiping away tears of mirth. With an exaggerated solemnity, she said, “The letter E.”
“The beginning of eternity, the end of time and of space, the beginning of every end, and the end of every place.” Miss de Bourgh thought it over for a moment. Her lips parted slightly. “Ah.”
Jane, who had by now composed herself, gave a bemused shake of her head.
Aunt Gardiner chuckled. “I wonder what the colonel actually told Mr. Darcy?”
Miss de Bourgh, still looking entirely too pleased with herself, settled into the chair beside Elizabeth’s bedside. “I too should dearly love to know how Richard mangled the message. I have no doubt it was intentional.”
Elizabeth wiped the last of the tears from her eyes, still breathless with amusement. “I can only imagine.”
“Shall I correct the error?” Miss de Bourgh inquired, a glimmer of amusement in her gaze.
Elizabeth beamed. “You are too good.”
“I know,” Miss de Bourgh replied without a trace of modesty. “Very well. I shall return.”
Elizabeth took a breath and tried to shake off the last vestiges of her laughter.
Aunt Gardiner, observing this, murmured wryly, “Well, now we shall see whether Rosings Park contains at least one reliable messenger.”
Jane, having composed herself, took another sip of her tea. “You are incorrigible.”
Elizabeth grinned unabashedly. “I know.”
“I believe,” Aunt Gardiner said lightly, “that Jane was speaking to me.”
Chapter Seventeen
Darcywasagainlyingon his stomach. It was so much worse than sitting at home on a Sunday evening with nothing to do. At least then he had the full house to pace about in.
