Page 2 of Darcy's Disguise (The Bennet and Darcy Chronicles #3)
2
E lizabeth lovedfew things more than a quiet bookshop.
The one in Meryton was small butwell-loved, with shelves of secondhand volumes and now and then new works from London. She stood near the back, fingers trailing along the spines, searching forsomething worthwhile she had not yet read.
The shop’s bell rang. A man entered, his coat sleeve visible from her vantage point, a local gentleman likely.
"Do you have a copy ofJohnson’s Dictionary?" His voice soothed and hummed. It was deep and resonant.
Elizabethpaused. She’d never heard his voice before. It hummed in waves through her. A woman could listen to such a voice for many hours without tiring.
The bookseller scratched his head. "A rare find these days, sir."
“Hmm. I thought it worth asking. I find that many a man butchers the English language simply because he lacks the means to reference it properly."
Elizabeth bit back alaugh. She shifted so that she could catch sight of him, not at all disappointed to see a tall, dark-haired man with an intelligent gaze and an air of quiet authority.
He was certainlydressed well enough to be a gentleman, but something about him suggested alack of pretense.
Feeling emboldened, she stepped closer. "If it is Johnson’s Dictionary you seek, sir," she tilted her head, "I believe you must be prepared to travel a great distance to find it."
He turned toward her with a welcome twinkle of interest. “Hmm.” He glanced at the books in her hands. "Though it seems you have found something of interest."
She pressed her lips together."I am still deciding. Have you read much of Mary Wollstonecraft?"
His brow lifted. "Enough to know she is not universally admired."
"And do you admire her?"
There was apause. ”I think," he said carefully, "that those who dismiss her do so because they fear the logic of her arguments."
Elizabethstudied him. Who is this man? “ A careful response, one I can respect.”
Before she could press him further, the bookseller returned with another volume. "Perhaps you’ll find The Rambler to your liking instead?"
The man glanced at it. Then,to Elizabeth’s surprise, he turned to her. "What do you think, Miss…?"
"Elizabeth Bennet," she said, not bothering to feign shyness.
He inclined his head. "And I am William Dawson.”
“I can highly recommend it. I didn’t know that one had arrived. It is on my list of ones I’d like to own.”
“With a recommendation such as that, I too find it highly desirable." And then,as if it were the most natural thing in the world,he handed her the book. "But you should have this one. And I shall happen upon it again."
Elizabeth took it, heartbeating oddly fast. “Do you not wish to purchase it for yourself?”
He dipped his head. “I would rather you enjoy it. If you might share it with me after?”
“Of course.” She turned to the store owner. “Would you leave it here for me. I’ll return on my way back from the schoolhouse.”
He nodded. “Of course, Miss Bennet.”
“Ah, the school house then?” Mr. Dawson’s lips curled in a small smile, as if he knew something she did not.
“Yes, I might stop by there on my way home.”
He checked his time piece and stood taller. “I am at the mercy of the time this afternoon. It was lovely to meet you Miss Bennet.” He bowed and then hurried out the door.
She left the book and made her way toward the school house. On the way, she was distracted by a small group gathered near the blacksmith’s shop. Curious, she stepped closer, just in time to hear—"Your gelding is favoring his left leg," adeep, sure voice, one she would now recognize anywhere, spoke.
Elizabeth turned. Mr. Dawson?
The owner scowled. "Nonsense. He walks fine."
"Fine for now," Mr. Dawson rested a hand on the horse’s flank. "But I would wager he has had improper shoeing, and if it is not corrected, you will find yourself with a lame horse within the month."
The blacksmithfrowned."The man may be right, Thomas. An improper shoeing would do that, and you took him elsewhere for his shoes last time, didn’t ye?"
The merchant huffed.
Elizabeth,intrigued, stepped forward. "You seem to know much about horses, sir," she remarked. “And literature.” Her mouth wiggled in an attempted suppressed smile.
He turned and his gaze flickered with something unreadable. "Ah Miss Bennet, a pleasure to see you again. My father was an expert with horses.”
Elizabeth lifted abrow. "Indeed?"
"Indeed."
She curtseyed. “It was a pleasure to see you again. Perhaps I will as yet be surprised by more of your talents today.”
Elizabeth ate a small repast and then arrived at the schoolhouse,ready to assist as usual. But as soon as she entered,she stopped in surprise, a laugh on her lips.
There, standing near the chalkboard,coat off, sleeves rolled up, a piece of chalk in hand—was William Dawson.
He turned at the sound of her arrival,looking entirely unruffled by her obvious surprise. "Miss Bennet," he said with that samemaddeningly calm expression."How fortunate we meet again."
Elizabeth blinked. "You… you are assisting here?"
Heshrugged slightly."I heard there was a need."
She folded her arms. "And you happened to hear this where, precisely?"
"At the bookshop," he admitted. “Earlier in the day. The shopkeeper mentioned it while lamenting the town’s lack of resources. The Reverend directed me here."
Elizabethtilted her head, trying to make sense of his obvious attention to her. "And you simply decided to offer your services?"
"Why not?" he countered.
A moment of silence.
Then—unexpectedly—Elizabeth smiled. "Very well, Mr. Dawson," she said, walking to the front. "Let us see if you are as skilled in teaching as you are in literary recommendations and horse shoes."
His lips twitched
She arched abrow. "A man who reads Johnson’s Dictionary and also knows how to correct poor shoeing? You are an enigma, Mr. Dawson."
"Am I?"
"A great one."
“There is some benefit to being unknown, is there not?”
“I suppose, yes. What particular benefit are you deriving from your anonymity?”
He turned back to the class but answered over his shoulder. “With you? I’m particularly delighted to catch you by surprise.” He grinned, and one eyebrow wiggled just a little.
She couldn’t help but laugh. “In that you have greatly succeeded.” She lifted her hand to the students. “Well class, shall we learn from Mr. Dawson today?”
They had been highly engaged in the conversation to this point and now turned back to him as if waiting for a new volley of words.
He nodded. “Just so. Perhaps Miss Bennet could assist as well?” His eyes held a sort of intoxicating hope that drew her in.
She nodded. “Of course.” Andrew sat in the first row, and she knew he’d be asking all the questions so she moved over to crouch down by him while Mr. Dawson began again.
The afternoon went so quickly she could hardly believe it. Everything Mr. Dawson said was fascinating to her and to the students as well apparently. They had never been so well behaved. Too soon, he placed his books back in his satchel. “For tonight I would like you to review in your minds our lessons and come up with your own version of the Shakespeare sonnet.”
As the students all packed up and headed out the door, Lizzie made her way to the front table. “Well done, sir. I think you have found your calling.”
His mouth twitched in humor. “So not blacksmith, stablemaster, or book sales clerk?”
“Well I don’t know about anything else in your life, but these students have never been better taught.” She meant every word. Something about the way he handled that whole afternoon really impressed her.
He paused long enough for her to look up into his face. “I sense that you do not offer praise so freely. Thank you.”
The power of being listened to, taken seriously, having her words sink in, was heady. “You’re welcome.” She knew her face was flushed. She suddenly needed a stiff breeze or to stick her feet in the ice-cold stream out back. Everything felt heated.
She fidgeted a moment, not knowing what else to say and then curtseyed her farewell. “Thank you again.” She hurried out the door, not daring to look back behind her.
He didn’t call her back, but what more was there to say? She’d had a full day of this newcomer in town and was so intrigued by him, but would do well to remember she didn’t know him at all, his situation, and felt fairly certain they were not going to move in the same social circles.