Page 76 of A Most Beloved Sister
“Sometimes, especially when I am with another person. One must speak a little, you know. It would be odd to be silent the entire time, so perhaps we ought to arrange the conversation so we may then have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”
“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?”
“Both,” replied Elizabeth archly, “for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room.”
He let out a surprised bark of laughter. “This is no very striking resemblance of your own temperament, I am sure. How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait, undoubtedly.”
She fidgeted uncomfortably at this last sally, which was tinged with a slight hint of bitterness. “Well, sir, I do admit that I have been trying to make out your character.”
He stopped, and as her arm was still entwined with his, she came to a halt as well. She looked up into his eyes, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. His gaze bored into hers, and she felt as though she was being swallowed up in the depths of his soul.
“And what is your success?” His voice was soft, but it seemed to reverberate throughout her entire body.
“I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”
“I can easily believe that,” he said. “I wish, Miss Elizabeth, that you would not sketch my character at the present. I fear the performance would not reflect credit on either of us.”
“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity. You are to leave soon after the wedding, are you not?” She waited breathlessly for his answer, wondering why it even mattered to her if he stayed or went.
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure,” the word came out like a caress, “of yours.”
A slight shiver coursed through her as his words enveloped her in a cocoon of warmth. The movement was enough to fracture the spell that had held them bound, and he took a small step backwards, forcing distance between them. “There is a bit more wind than before. It is perhaps best we return to the house before you take a chill.”
Before Elizabeth could protest, Darcy steered the two of them around and guided them down the path from Oakham Mount towards Netherfield.
In an effort to banish the lingering sensations, Elizabeth frantically searched her mind for something to say. Finally, she settled on something that had been niggling at the back of her mind for several days. “Were you able to see your sister while you were in London?”
Darcy looked down at her in surprise. “My sister?”
“Yes, I believe you mentioned her shortly before you left. Louisa seemed surprised to discover that you even had a sister. I assume, then, that she is not out, if Louisa has yet to make her acquaintance?”
“No, No… that is… well, no, she is not yet out. She is only just sixteen.”
“Ah, that is one of the most trying ages. Does she give you much trouble, then? Young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage.”
“Why would you suppose such a thing?”
The manner in which he questioned her convinced Elizabeth that she must have guessed somewhat correctly. “Only that I have three younger sisters myself, Mr. Darcy!” she laughed. “I daresay all of us girls at one time or another gave our poor parents cause for concern. But you need not be frightened; I have never heard of any specific harm of your sister.”
He relaxed. “I confess, I do not envy your father his responsibility in caring for five young ladies. I often feel at a loss with my sister, and there is only one of her.”
“My father chooses to remain in his study with his books and port, leaving us to the care of our mother,” Elizabeth said, the memories of her interactions with Mr. Collins and Mrs. Bennet still fresh in her mind. “He does, however, involve himself when the situation warrants it.”
She involuntarily moved her hand over to the bruised arm that rested on Darcy’s and lightly touched the sore parts, wincing slightly. Underneath her pelisse, the three-quarter sleeves of her casual walking dress barely covered the hand-shaped marks that were turning brown and yellow. Fortunately, the pelisse’s fur-trimmed long sleeves did the job of hiding the injuries.
“It wasn’t until my father’s death some five years ago that I was truly able to involve myself in my sister’s life,” Darcy said. “Before that, she was… in her own establishment. Upon his passing, I brought her to Pemberley.”
“Pemberley?”
“My estate, in Derbyshire.”
“Oh, yes, of course. I believe Miss Bingley mentioned it a time or two.”
He laughed at this bit of sarcasm. “Yes, she speaks of it frequently for someone who has never been there. In any case, there was an unfortunate incident with my sister’s companion, and I then chose to bring my sister to London for the Season, so we could be together.”
“But not to Netherfield?” Elizabeth asked curiously.
“No.”
