Page 17 of Elizabeth in Scotland (Elizabeth and Darcy Abroad #2)
Elizabeth smiled proudly as she and Miss Darcy walked into the drawing room together.
They had spent a great deal of time talking over the rules of social etiquette and the art of conversation, and she was confident the time had not been wasted.
For all her shyness and reserve, Miss Darcy was an apt pupil, quick and dedicated.
Even as they waited in the drawing room for the gentlemen to arrive, her questions continued.
“You have helped me so much already, and yet I feel I am still missing the essential point. How do I get over my shyness, Miss Bennet?” Georgiana asked, looking at her hopefully. “I am not like you.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No one is born knowing these things, Miss Darcy. And while it is true that some are more natural or comfortable than others, conversation takes practice, just as drawing or playing the piano are practised and learned skills.”
“Very well. But what if I make a blunderer of myself when I come out, and I am branded as a half-wit?” she asked softly. At the very thought, she seemed to shrink into herself.
Poor Miss Darcy, Elizabeth thought, to feel so much, and with so little confidence in herself. But she will not stay so forever — not if I have anything to say about it. I shall see to it that everyone else can see the kind and intelligent young woman that I do.
For the moment, her best weapon was an encouraging smile.
How difficult it could be for someone to get out of their comfortable hiding place and try something new!
In terms of social prowess, Miss Darcy rather reminded her of Mary.
Mary so longed to be acknowledged among her sisters, but she had not the judgement to achieve her wish.
All too often, she chose poor tactics that hid her very real excellent qualities.
In her too-strident declarations of philosophy and too-assertive performances on the pianoforte, she sometimes came dangerously close to making a fool of herself.
If only she had someone to truly listen to and value her — someone, perhaps, like Mr Campbell — Elizabeth felt certain Mary would come into a proper balance and let her true worth shine forth.
Miss Darcy seemed to be on the other side of the spectrum, wanting to learn how to engage with others better, but not knowing where to start.
And where Mary might benefit from choosing her times for display more judiciously, Miss Darcy was almost crippled by the fear that she would do something wrong.
“You already have politeness and kindness on your side, Miss Darcy. Your trouble is not that you are wrong in what you would choose to say, but that you must grow in confidence. You have something important to say — you have a voice,” she urged.
“People are not as unfeeling as you may believe, and we have all been in the position of trying to figure out where we fit in society. The main thing to remember now is to always be kind and considerate. Engage others by speaking of things that you believe might interest them.”
“How do I do that?” Miss Darcy asked in dismay.
“I always like to follow this rule: ask questions. If you are not sure what interests someone, ask. People love to talk about themselves. If you can keep the conversation going by asking them meaningful questions, you save yourself from having to think of something to say, and you show you are interested in knowing them better.” Elizabeth motioned to the settee, and they sat down on opposite ends.
“Now, let us try an exercise. Pretend that you and I have just met at a party. Why don’t you try to begin a conversation with me? ”
Miss Darcy wrung her hands, looking about the room anxiously. “Very well. Ahem. Ah…Miss Bennet, how do you like the weather we have been having?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I enjoy the rain at times, but I have found the excessive bad weather has kept me cooped up indoors far too much of late. I do enjoy reading, though, and have at least been able to entertain myself with my novels.”
Miss Darcy bit her lower lip. “Um, I see. Well, that is too bad. I—” She hesitated. “I hope you do not run out of books to read.”
Elizabeth wanted to laugh, but held it in for her friend’s sake. “My father has a well-stocked library, thank you. And what do you like to do for enjoyment when the weather is bad?”
Miss Darcy shrugged. “I play the pianoforte,” she said shortly.
A long pause ensued. As it extended into an awkward silence, Elizabeth took the moment to teach her pupil the next lesson. “Now, what is something you could ask me that you have learned so far?”
“You dislike being cooped up indoors?” Miss Darcy tried.
“I like to read,” Elizabeth corrected gently.
“If I were you, I would have asked what my favourite book is, and tried to engage me from there. That is better for a conversation because it is more pleasant, and it leads to many other things we might speak of. If we have tastes in common, that is almost sure to lead to a lively conversation, and even if not, you have given me the pleasure of speaking about something I enjoy, which is always a kind thing to do. Do you see?”
“I think so,” Miss Darcy said slowly.
Elizabeth did not want to overwhelm her, and so she simply patted her hand and gave her encouragement.
“You know, I used to practise in the mirror what I would say, particularly to gentlemen, for I found the thought of speaking to gentlemen most unnerving when I first came out. I thought of all sorts of questions that might interest them: whether they enjoyed riding, how they liked their profession — anything I could think of.”
“I could try practising in the mirror, I suppose,” Miss Darcy said thoughtfully.
Elizabeth nodded. “Very good. Take the next few days and try that, and we shall continue to practise when we are together.”
“I will do my best,” Miss Darcy vowed.
By then, tea was served, even though the gentlemen had not yet shown themselves. Elizabeth poured the tea, then took a Scottish scone for herself, spreading it thickly with jam and butter. “I have come to enjoy Scottish tea, I think, even though it is very strong.”
Miss Darcy screwed up her nose and stirred two cubes of sugar into her tea. “I cannot abide it. I do wish they would provide us with some cream to cut the strength. You must think me very juvenile for not being able to handle it.”
“Not at all. It is only a matter of preference,” Elizabeth said gently.
A moment later, the gentlemen appeared, and Elizabeth was glad to see her father looking so cheerful. At home, he would have taken his tea in the library so he could continue reading or working on his insect collection. “How are you, my dear? I hope you have not felt I have been too neglectful?”
“Not at all, Papa. Miss Darcy and I have been having a wonderful time together,” Elizabeth said.
Mr Darcy and Mr Campbell joined them, and they all settled in the sitting area to have tea.
“I am fascinated by the loch, Mr Campbell. It is beautiful, to be sure.”
“I am glad you think so, Mr Bennet, for I should hate to think that Strathalt House might be inherited by anyone who did not appreciate it. The loch is the beating heart of this community.”
Mr Bennet chuckled. “Well, it is easy to appreciate. Though I suppose the same cannot, perhaps, be said of its inhabitant. I have heard the stories of the monster since I was a boy. Have you ever seen it?”
Mr Campbell laughed. “I presume you are referring to Nessie?” He looked from the gentlemen to the ladies, although Elizabeth had not a clue what he was referring to. “She is an old friend in these parts,” he explained with a wink.
Elizabeth frowned, intrigued. “Who is this monster?”
Mr Darcy cleared his throat. “Mr Campbell and your father are speaking of the legend of the Loch Ness Monster. The first recorded mention of the monster dates back to the fifth century, if I remember correctly, in a text called The Life of Saint Columba. It describes how Saint Columba, an Irish missionary, encountered a ‘water beast’ in the River Ness.”
Miss Darcy leant forward, her eyes growing wide as her brother went on. “A water beast? How very exciting!”
“Not for a certain man who was caught in the monster’s clutches,” he continued, drawing a gasp from his sister.
“Adomnán, the author, wrote that a man was being attacked by the creature. Saint Columba intervened by making the sign of the cross and commanding the beast to be gone, which it did. Columba was commended for his bravery, and the man was saved from a watery grave.”
“How very frightening,” her father chimed in. “The Life of Saint Columba is a wonderful history, to be sure, but I have always wondered about the validity of the claim. It seems too fantastic to be true.”
“You are correct, Mr Darcy, in your description. I am impressed that you know the story,” Mr Campbell said. “I will offer only one correction.”
“Oh? And what is that?” Mr Darcy asked.
Mr Campbell took on a very serious air. “It is not just a legend. At least there are some who still believe that Nessie — or her offspring — lurk beneath the loch’s surface.”
Elizabeth’s heart began to hammer in her chest with the excitement of it all.
“I should very much like to see Nessie. Have you ever seen her, Mr Campbell?” Miss Darcy asked, her excitement matching Elizabeth’s.
Mr Darcy stepped in then. “I do not wish to offend tradition, Mr Campbell. But you should not hold false hope, Georgiana. Surely, Nessie is just a fable. An interesting one, to be sure, but still a legend. Perhaps there was such a monster in Columba’s day, but I suspect there has been quite a bit of exaggeration over the centuries.
Or perhaps Adomnán was trying to convey an allegory of the spiritual state of Scotland through the story? ”