Page 50 of The Briar Bargain
It was Mr. Hurst who, surprisingly, came to the rescue. "Anatomical studies are quite common among gentlemen interested in natural philosophy," he said matter-of-factly. "Darcy has always been keen on such pursuits."
"Indeed," Mr. Bingley added, apparently oblivious to his sister's distress. "Many of our Cambridge fellows maintained such studies. Quite necessary for understanding medicine and natural sciences. Nothing unusual in it at all, except that it wound up in Miss Elizabeth’s workbasket."
Miss Bingley's mortification was now complete, but rather than accept her error gracefully, she turned to her sister with desperate accusation. "Louisa! You assured me you had seen Miss Elizabeth working on such drawings!"
Mrs. Hurst fixed her sister with a look that could have frozen the Thames in July, that expression known to all siblings that saidYou are sacrificing me to save yourself, and I will remember this betrayal until my dying day.
"I said no such thing, Caroline," Mrs. Hurst replied with dangerous calm that reminded Elizabeth of a few times she had been required to curb Lydia’s enthusiasm for things that belonged to her sisters. "I believe you may be confused."
Elizabeth watched this sisterly exchange with fascination. It was particularly enthralling to observe the carefully controlled warfare of women who prided themselves on their superior breeding.
While she engaged in a bit of self-congratulation, Jane, being the superior creature that she was, steered the conversation to safer topics. The tension in the room gradually dissipated, though Elizabeth suspected that Miss Bingley's attempt to shift blame to her sister would not be easily forgiven.
But not only had Miss Bingley set her own sister against her, she had embarrassed the man she wished to impress. What a delightful disaster Miss Bingley’s scheme had been!
It was rather wonderful to learn that the seemingly perfect Mr. Darcy had forgotten his drawing somewhere, like an ordinary mortal. Even more appealing was the idea that those capable hands were sometimes engaged in serious scholarly work.
When Elizabeth recalled Miss Bingley's face turning as red as the roses in a summer garden, she felt something ticklish inside her. But it was the memory of poor Mr. Darcy's mortified expression, seeing his work waved about as though it were something lewd rather than the respectable scientific study it was, that sent the laughter bubbling up from her stomach and into her throat.
Elizabeth bobbed a curtsy to the room, making her escape with what she hoped was a leisurely pace, but the moment she stepped through the library and out onto the terrace, she doubled over with helpless laughter.She tried to laugh as quietly as she could, but the entire episode had been so magnificently ridiculous that she could barely contain herself.
She was still wiping tears of mirth from her eyes when she heard footsteps behind her.
"Miss Elizabeth?"
She turned to find Mr. Darcy approaching with evident concern, his expression troubled as he took in what he clearly interpreted as signs of distress.
"I beg your pardon for following you," he said quietly, "but I saw you as I returned to the drawing room and feared . . . that is, I should like to offer my apologies for the distressing scene you were subjected to. I am mortified if my carelessness has caused you any discomfort."
Elizabeth stared at him for a moment, then burst into fresh peals of laughter. "Oh, Mr. Darcy," she gasped. "If you could only have seen Miss Bingley's face when she realised her error! I came outside because I feared I might disgrace myself by laughing in front of her."
The relief that crossed his features was almost comical. "You were not upset?”
"Not at all," she confirmed, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. "The whole scene was perfectly absurd. Poor Miss Bingley, so certain she had discovered some terrible scandal, only to learn she had been horrified by your perfectly respectable scientific studies. I suppose her brother does not engage in such things."
Mr. Darcy's lips twitched slightly. "Bingley is not as interested in such things as I am. And Miss Bingley was not wrong to be scandalized. She is a maiden, and I ought not to have left my work where it could be found.”
“Not all maidens are so easily affronted. My father has such illustrations in a few of the books that he reads. Jane and I, at least, are used to them.”
“But why would Miss Bingley think it belonged to you? That I do not understand.”
“I was making my lists at the writing table in the library while working with Mrs. Nicholls,” Elizabeth said as she thought it over. “I suppose she or Mrs. Hurst might have seen me there.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “Ah. That is also where I was working on the sketch,” he said quietly. “I needed something to distract me while you were ill.”
Elizabeth waited, but he did not explain, and she felt it would be impolite to inquire any further.
He frowned slightly, and his forehead furrowed. “As to how it was placed in your workbasket . . .”
“Is something only Miss Bingley and perhaps Mrs. Hurst would know.” She related how she had attempted to return the drawing several times and it had somehow found its way back to her, and he chuckled.
“I wonder that she thought she would not be found out.”
Miss Elizabeth tipped her head to one side and smiled. “I suspect Miss Bingley expected the shocking revelation of my depravity would prevent further questions from being asked.”
He paused before returning to something she had said earlier. “Your father has an interest in the anatomical form?”
"Oh yes, though his approach is rather more theoretical than practical. He has quite an extensive library on scientific matters. Medical texts, treatises on agriculture, legal commentaries. I confess I have developed something of a habit of borrowing from his collection."
