That Bennet Chit by Jeannie Peneaux

Author:Jeannie Peneaux [Peneaux, Jeannie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0BBL1NXMQ
Published: 2022-09-01T23:00:00+00:00

Lizzy gave Mr. Darcy her completed letter when they set off for a turn about the garden that very morning. Lizzy had known he would call, and Mrs. Bennet had talked of little else since breakfast after all. Elizabeth had looked anxiously at the grey clouds outside and hoped that he would not come at all if it meant they must endure Mama’s company indoors. She felt a little self-conscious as she held the letter out to him, remembering how he had presented her with his own epistle not so long ago at Rosings. For a brief, tempting moment she contemplated stiffly requesting that he do her the honour of reading that letter but she decided that perhaps it was better not said. He must have been sorely disappointed that morning, and perhaps he might not laugh.

Mr. Darcy did possess a sense of humour, however – that much she could say. When they were in relative privacy he readily smiled at her, or occasionally even laughed at a clever quip she made. Elizabeth liked to make him laugh, she discovered – he looked a little less burdened when he did so. Mr. Darcy took the letter and put it in his pocket after looking intently at the direction.

“I hope Miss Darcy enjoys the correspondence in truth, Mr. Darcy, and will not only be reading dutifully on your orders.”

“I have no doubt, Miss Elizabeth, that your letter will be charming; you need not worry on that score. In spite of having never had the pleasure of reading a letter from you, I am confident that Georgiana will delight in whatever you have to say.”

“What a finer kettle of fish we might even now be in if I had written you a letter, sir.”

His brows twitched upwards briefly. “Quite so.”

“Did you discern anything of me from my hand, Mr. Darcy? Papa attests that Mr. Collins’s penmanship revealed much of his character to him even before they had met.”

“Aside from the obvious fact that you are literate, Miss Elizabeth?” smiled Mr. Darcy. “I dare make no claims about your character from the direction other than the fact that there is no mystery to whom you have written. When my friend Bingley writes to me I have hesitated in opening the missive for fear that I am reading something intended for a Mr. Frederick Dalley or one Ferdinand Daubney.”

Elizabeth laughed, and put out her hand to shake the droplets of rain from a heavily laden rose. “You put me in mind, sir. I remarked that your Christian name is given for your mother’s family. Is it a tradition, Mr. Darcy? Appellations interest me. I have asked your sister what the origins of ‘Pemberley’ are. No, sir, you must not tell me – we shall let her write it if it is not some dark family secret.”

“As you command, Miss Elizabeth. I shall leave that conversation to you ladies. I will speak of my own name instead, with your permission. My father’s Christian name was George and my grandmama’s maiden name was Vernon – so no, my name is not a tradition.

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