Page 79 of The Briar Bargain
"This one is from the West Indies, I believe," he said, indicating a plant with broad, glossy leaves. "Though I confess my knowledge is not very thorough."
Their eyes met across the space between them, and for a moment the air seemed charged with something beyond mere conversation. Then Miss Elizabeth looked away, focusing her attention on a cascade of small purple flowers.
"These are lovely," she said. "Do you know what they are called?"
Darcy stepped closer, ostensibly to examine the flowers but truly to be nearer to her. "I believe they are some variety of orchid," he said. "Though I could not tell you the specific name."
"No matter. Sometimes it is enough simply to appreciate beauty without needing to classify it."
He looked at her as she bent to breathe in the scent. "Yes," he said quietly. "Sometimes it is."
They continued their circuit of the conservatory, the conversation flowing more easily than he had dared hope. Miss Elizabeth's curiosity was infectious, her observations often surprising and always engaging.
"I must admit that Miss Bingley has excellent taste in plants, even if she does not often enjoy them herself," Miss Elizabeth remarked as they paused beside a small fountain surrounded by delicate ferns. "It seems a pity to create something so lovely and then abandon it to the sole care of gardeners."
"Perhaps she finds more pleasure in the creation than the maintenance," Darcy suggested. "Some people are more comfortable with grand gestures than daily devotion."
"And which are you, Mr. Darcy?" The question was asked lightly, but he sensed deeper meaning beneath it.
He considered his answer carefully. "I believe I prefer constancy," he said at length. "Though I am beginning to think that both may have their place."
"How very tactful of you."
"I am learning from an excellent teacher."
She glanced at him sharply, as though surprised by the compliment, then smiled with such warmth that he felt as though the sun had emerged from behind clouds.
No woman so proper as Elizabeth Bennet would look at him so warmly if she did not, at some level, esteem him. The thought stole into his mind unbidden, filling him with a cautious hope.
"I fear you overestimate my skill," she said. "I am more often accused of being too direct for polite society."
"Then polite society is foolish," he replied with more vehemence than he had intended. "Directness that does not intend to wound is a virtue too rarely practised."
"Even when it causes offence?"
"Especially then. Better honest offence than false courtesy."
She studied his face with those perceptive eyes. "You sound as though you speak from experience."
He did, though he could hardly tell her of the countless drawing rooms where he had endured simpering flattery and calculated charm, all in service of securing his fortune and status. The memory of such encounters made Miss Elizabeth's straightforward manner even more precious.
"I have had occasion to value truthfulness above politeness," he said simply.
"And yet you are always so perfectly proper," she said with a teasing smile. "Never a word out of place, never a gesture that could be deemed inappropriate. It must be exhausting to maintain such standards."
No one had ever suggested that his propriety might be a burden rather than a natural expression of his character. Yet she was not wrong. There were times when the weight of expectation, the constant need to be the perfect gentleman, felt suffocating.
Like now. For he should very much like to kiss Miss Elizabeth. But he would not.
"Perhaps," he replied, "there are occasions when propriety is more habit than inclination."
They had completed their tour of the conservatory and found themselves back at the entrance. Darcy was reluctant to end their time together, but before he could suggest an extension of their walk, Miss Elizabeth spoke.
"Thank you for this," she said, her hand still resting lightly on his arm. "It has been exactly what I needed. Jane was right to say we were growing restless, though I doubt she would have chosen such exotic surroundings for her constitutional. I did not even know that Netherfield had a conservatory before I stumbled across it the other day."
"The pleasure is mine," he replied, and meant it completely. "Perhaps tomorrow, if the weather improves, we might venture into the actual gardens."
"I should like that very much. But it shall have to be early, for if the bridge is deemed sound, Jane and I will be departing."
