Page 22 of Elizabeth in Scotland (Elizabeth and Darcy Abroad #2)

Elizabeth met his gaze and felt frozen to the spot.

Yet warmth spread throughout her entire being.

Could it really be admiration she saw singing in his eyes?

She lowered her eyes. Though it might have been taken as a gesture of modesty, it was really more of a desperate effort to compose herself.

When Elizabeth looked back up, his eyes were piercing, his gaze so direct it made her heart pound.

“Thank you, Mr Darcy,” she said, carefully keeping her voice level.

She fingered the tartan material and looked back up at them.

“This fabric is so beautiful, surely it would look well on anyone.”

“Well, now that we are dressed up, might I ask that you give me another lesson in charming and witty conversation?” Miss Darcy asked eagerly. “You always seem to know what to say, Miss Bennet, while I am so awkward and shy.”

“You may feel shy and awkward for a time, but practice will soon undo that. I have seen a great change in you already. You seem much easier than you did when we first met.” Elizabeth thanked her lucky stars for the chance to have the subject turned to something other than herself.

The chance to recover her composure was very welcome.

She turned to Mr Darcy. “Would you be willing to aid us in this lesson? I think it would benefit your sister to have someone other than myself to talk to.”

“Of course.”

Elizabeth had them face each other as if they were conversing at a party, then stood aside and guided Miss Darcy through the conversation.

“Now, the key to feeling less shy is to think more of others. Your goal is to think of what might interest them and ferret it out. This will give you a plethora of directions to steer the conversation and keep them talking more than yourself. And it will put them at ease as well and show them you genuinely care about what is important to them. Do you see?”

“I am not sure where to begin,” Miss Darcy said, looking nervous. “It is easy to talk to Fitz, for I’m already comfortable with him. Might you show me how you would do it, and I can take mental notes?”

Before Elizabeth could argue, Miss Darcy stepped aside and drew Elizabeth into her place before Mr Darcy. He smoothed down his jacket and bowed. “Miss Bennet, what a pleasure to see you,” he said, pretending to greet her.

She returned his bow. “Likewise, Mr Darcy.” For a moment, she faltered, but then remembered he had spoken of his home with great affection when they had first met. “I have long wished to ask you, how does Strathalt House compare to Pemberley? I hear the gardens at your home are magnificent.”

He seemed sincerely pleased, replying with an enthusiasm that seemed due to his liking for the subject as well as his wish to help his sister.

“They are indeed. How good of you to remember, Miss Bennet. My grandfather and father worked diligently to create and expand the gardens. I can only hope I might add to them and improve them as time goes on.” He paused, never once taking his eyes off her.

“Perhaps you might come to see them someday?”

She told herself not to get flustered by the suggestion.

Surely it was only a part of their play-acting.

“How very thoughtful. If I ever have occasion to find myself in the Peak District, I would very much like to see them.” She was surprised and gratified to see how seriously he was treating the exercise, for she had half-expected him to treat it as a silly game.

He smiled charmingly at her, another surprise. “Our door will always be open to you, Miss Bennet,” he said with such feeling that she almost felt he meant it.

They continued their conversation for a while longer, so Miss Darcy could get the feel for what she might say to a stranger, and then they were joined by her father and Mr Campbell for tea.

As they parted ways to find their chairs in the sitting area, she could not help but feel flustered over the lesson.

Despite her misgivings, she could not deny that she was drawn to Mr Darcy.

Elizabeth’s growing interest in him frightened her a little. Surely, he would never be seriously interested in a woman like her, a woman of inferior station and wealth. Then again, how would that account for the way he had looked at her before Miss Darcy had joined them in the drawing room?

“Well, it seems the two of you will be taking a little piece of the Highlands home with you. How do you find our local tartan?” Mr Campbell asked Miss Darcy after tea had been served and they had settled with their refreshments.

“I like it very much. The seamstress in town is wonderful with a needle, would not you agree, Miss Bennet?”

She snapped her head up, nearly spilling the contents of the delicate teacup all down her new tartan.

Elizabeth reproached herself for being so entirely engrossed in her own thoughts.

If this kept up, she would do better to seek lessons in charm from Miss Darcy.

“Oh, yes. I agree. She has done wonderful work with the stitching.” She did not have the heart to look up and see if Mr Darcy was looking at her.

To her relief, her voice had sounded calm and even, but her heart was still beating fast.

“Are you well, my dear? You look a bit flushed,” her father pointed out. It was not done in malice, but she fervently wished he had kept his musings to himself and not drawn even more attention to her, for he only made her plight worse.

“I am quite well. It is just that the woollen material is a little thicker than I am used to. I am the only one who is a little over-warm?” she asked.

“I am not too warm, no. Perhaps you should have a lie-down?” Miss Darcy asked, looking concerned.

Mr Darcy also looked concerned and seemed about to say something, but Elizabeth rose before he had a chance.

“Yes, I think I am feeling a little feverish. I will change and lie down for a while. Please excuse me,” she said and hurried out of the room without so much as waiting for everyone to finish their expressions of concern.

Impolite as it was, Elizabeth did not feel that she could wait another moment. She badly needed some time to think.

She had only made it a short way down the hall when her father called after her.

Elizabeth waited for him to catch up, and they walked up the stairs together.

“Are you sure you are well? Shall I call for a doctor?” He clicked his tongue in mild disapproval.

“I am sure your early morning walks, not to mention that excursion to the loch, has made you catch a cold of some kind.”

“No, Papa, I assure you that all is well. I only need some time to lie down and rest. Despite being in the country, I have had no end of amusements and activities to take up my time.” Elizabeth sighed as she came to her guestroom. “Have you been able to decipher anything more about the riddle?”

Her father shook his head. “I have been wracking my brain since Mr Campbell gave us the riddle, and spending the afternoons scouring the library to see if anything might be of use. He seems to enjoy using literature as his inspiration. But I have not landed on anything useful.”

Elizabeth nodded and kissed her father on the cheek.

“Well, I shall try to be of better use to you, Papa. The sooner we can solve this riddle, the sooner you will inherit the house.” And the sooner she could put some distance between her and Mr Darcy, and the impossible feelings she feared she was developing for him.