Page 36 of The Slipper Scandal
"That would depend entirely on whether the Egyptian understanding of the afterlife was correct, would it not?" Mr. Darcy interjected. "If so, we have deprived countless souls of their provisions for eternity."
Mr. Grayson looked as though he could not decide whether Mr. Darcy was serious or mocking him.
Elizabeth had the sudden notion that rather than questioning the English church, Mr. Darcy was attempting to keep Mr. Grayson occupied so that he would not interrupt the colonel’s time with Arabella. She gazed at him attempting to discern the truth of her suspicion, but he was inscrutable.
But the idea would not be dismissed. Mr. Darcy behaving as Colonel Fitzwilliam’s second of sorts. How extraordinary.
"Brother,” Miss Grayson said winningly, “you simply must tell Miss Everly what you were saying about the mummification process. It was most illuminating."
Mr. Grayson allowed himself to be drawn away, satisfied by the reminder that there were other young women who wished for his attention and already launching into what promised to be an elaborate explanation.
"Poor Arabella," she murmured, once Mr. Grayson was out of earshot. "Her mother shall be disappointed. Though if that is the quality of attention he offers, I believe her well to be rid of him."
"You believe Miss Abernathy had formed an attachment to Mr. Grayson?" Mr. Darcy asked, seeming genuinely concerned.
"Not at all. Her mother hoped she might, but Arabella found him rather . . ." Elizabeth paused, searching for the correct term.
"Insufferable?" Mr. Darcy suggested quietly.
Elizabeth coughed to cover her laugh, unable to help herself. "I was going to say 'tedious,' or ‘a bit of a popinjay,’ but your assessment is perhaps more encompassing."
The side room they entered next was filled with ancient coins. It narrowed considerably, forcing them to walk single file past a series of glass cases containing various antiquities. As they reached a particularly tight passage, her arm brushed momentarily against his, and even through layers of clothing, she felt a peculiar warmth where they had made contact.
"Pardon me," Mr. Darcy murmured, his voice oddly strained.
"It is quite cramped," Elizabeth agreed, trying to ignore the sudden acceleration of her pulse. "Mr. Bullock might have considered the comfort of his visitors when designing the layout."
"Perhaps he intended to create a sense of adventure," Mr. Darcy suggested, somewhat to her surprise. "As though one were truly exploring ancient tombs or remote jungles."
"What an intriguing thought," Elizabeth replied, genuinely impressed by his insight. “Though next time I shall insist upon a map of the exhibition. Or a sword.”
“To fend off the crocodiles?”
She affected a serious expression. “No, sir. To carve a path through narrow galleries and overly tall suitors.”
“You did say you were an excellent fencer.”
“When did I . . .?” She recalled their first dance and blushed. Fortunately, Mr. Darcy did not speak further on that subject.
They emerged into a slightly more spacious area dominated by a display of maritime artifacts. There were model ships, navigational instruments, and various items collected from distant shores. The lighting here was dimmer, with small oil lamps placed strategically to highlight specific exhibits.
Elizabeth paused before a display of carved whalebone, marvelling at the intricate patterns etched into the smooth white surface. "How remarkable that sailors at sea for months or even years would create such delicate artwork."
"I imagine it helped preserve their sanity," Mr. Darcy observed. "To focus on creating beauty amid such isolation and danger."
"I think you have the soul of an explorer, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, the words escaping before she could consider their wisdom.
He looked at her with an expression she could not quite interpret—surprise, certainly, but something else as well. Vulnerability, perhaps. "I am generally considered about as lively as a block of wood, Miss Bennet,” he said quietly.
"That has not been my experience," she replied. It was the truth. She had thought him humourless, but that had not been correct. And even his poorly worded compliment in the park didnot mean he was not lively. In fact, if she could just get him to respond to her teasing with his own dry wit a little more often . . .
Before she could say anything more, they were interrupted by the return of Arabella and Colonel Fitzwilliam, both looking remarkably pleased with themselves.
"Lizzy, you must see the shells and the coral," Arabella exclaimed. "They have been fashioned into the most extraordinary necklaces."
The colonel smiled. "We did try to imagine the ladies of the ton wearing such jewellery to a ball, but I confess my mother would more likely be horrified at the very thought of such a thing.”
“She might be more adventurous than you think, Colonel,” Elizabeth replied, casting a quick glance at Mr. Darcy.
