The similarity of her words to Miss Elizabeth’s made him laugh, and Miss Bennet blushed deeper still.
“No, please do not think I laugh at you,” Darcy said hurriedly. “It is just that Miss Elizabeth said the very same thing a few moments ago. I have never considered myself someone to whom young ladies unintentionally reveal their thoughts. Even my own sister . . . It is a new experience for me, that is all.”
Miss Bennet eyed him for a moment before she nodded and graced him with a smile. “Well, we are glad you are here to help entertain your friend. Recovering from injury is a tedious business, and I am afraid Mr. Jones says Mr. Bingley should not be moved until he can walk without aid, which may take a few days.”
Darcy nodded. “I expected as much. He is fortunate his injuries were not more serious.”
“Would you care to join us for breakfast, Mr. Darcy?”
He stood. “I would like that very much.”
“And Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bennet said quietly, “you should feel honoured. Lizzy is always guarded with her feelings, for reasons that must be clear to you.”
It was the gentlest admonition of one’s family Darcy had ever heard.
“If Lizzy’s discretion slipped in your company,” Miss Bennet continued, “she must feel safe with you.”
Darcy met Miss Bennet’s guileless gaze. “Is that so?”
Miss Bennet nodded.
An idea struck him. “You know, it may be for the best that we have been detained. Bingley loves the festive season, but he has never experienced the holidays in the country.”
Miss Bennet said nothing, but her face lit up, and this time, it was not with a blush.
Chapter Six
MissBennetledDarcyinto a cosy room. Mr. Bennet was already sitting at the head of the table, a newspaper neatly folded and placed to one side. Darcy nodded at him, and Mr. Bennet nodded back. Miss Elizabeth had been speaking with her mother who still appeared displeased with her, Miss Mary was already seated, and Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty were only just tripping over the threshold and into the room, appearing as though they had been forcibly rousted from bed. They were dressed in bright colours, unusual for young ladies whom most often saw attired in white. He had to admit that they had chosen colours that suited them.
Raucous and unmannerly they might be, but seeing them freshly awakened, still sleepy and unadorned, they seemed younger. A pang of conscience smote him. Theywereyoung. Miss Lydia was even a little younger than Georgiana, and Miss Kitty only a little older. They behaved badly, but it only proved they were too young to be out in company, and that was not entirely their fault.
Miss Lydia slumped into her chair. “Lord, I am so tired! I do love a ball, but it takes me so long to recover!”
Well, perhaps his initial judgement was not soveryflawed. Miss Kitty, he noted, was more impressed by the visitor at table and remained quiet. There might be some hope for her.
Darcy was used to a rather sedate morning meal. Even when his sister was at her most excitable, she generally waited until he had consumed at least one cup of coffee and a bit of food. This experience, he expected, would be unlike any to which he was accustomed.
“Lizzy,” Miss Lydia called down the table. Miss Mary who was seating next to the youngest Bennet grumbled something as she buttered a slice of toast. “Shall we go collect pine boughs and holly today? We wish to decorate!”
“Lydia,” Miss Elizabeth admonished her, “it is too early.”
“It is the tradition,” Miss Mary confirmed with a bob of her head.
“Hang the tradition,” Miss Lydia declared.
Darcy wondered idly whether that statement might not one day be emblazoned upon Miss Lydia’s family crest.
“Lydia,” Miss Bennet said warningly.
“We always decorate for St. Nicholas Day,” Miss Lydia whined.
“We only put up the mistletoe,” Miss Elizabeth replied. She turned to Darcy. “It was a tradition in my mother’s family.”
Darcy bit his tongue.
“Pass the eggs, Mary,” Miss Lydia said, distracted. Instead of waiting, she reached out across her sister to take the platter.
He glanced at Mr. Bennet, who rolled his eyes and picked up his paper.