Page 17

" D o hurry, Lizzy," Arabella called over her shoulder, her eyes bright with excitement. “The crocodile is not to be missed!"

Elizabeth quickened her pace, lifting her skirts slightly to navigate the narrow passage between glass cases filled with exotic curiosities.

They had come to Bullock’s exhibition at the invitation of Miss Grayson, the daughter of the Abernathys’ friends, whose fascination with natural curiosities had secured them admission to an early viewing before the museum opened to the public at ten.

The rooms were less crowded than they would be later in the day but were still filled with an assortment of society's more intellectually inclined members, their voices creating a pleasant hum of conversation that echoed off the high ceilings.

"I cannot believe you convinced your mother to allow us to visit such an unconventional exhibition," Elizabeth remarked as they entered the Cabinet Room, where the most prized specimens were displayed.

Arabella's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Papa intervened on our behalf. He said it was educational."

"And your mother acquiesced?"

"She did once young Mr. Grayson expressed interest in meeting us here.

" Arabella nodded towards a tall gentleman with fashionably dishevelled hair who stood conversing with Miss Harper near a case of brilliantly coloured butterflies.

"Mamma has high hopes for that particular connection, though I find him rather—"

"Self-satisfied?" Elizabeth suggested, noting the way Mr. Grayson gestured expansively, clearly holding forth on some topic that required his listeners' rapt attention.

"Precisely." Arabella sighed. "Though I cannot deny the man has excellent taste in cravats."

Elizabeth laughed, then abruptly fell silent as they rounded a corner and came face to face with the centrepiece of the Cabinet Room: a massive crocodile suspended from the ceiling.

It was preserved with remarkable skill, its scaled hide gleaming in the early morning light.

The creature's jaws were parted to reveal rows of fearsome teeth, and its glass eyes seemed to follow them with ancient, reptilian cunning.

"Good heavens," Elizabeth murmured, unable to look away from the magnificent beast. "One almost expects it to snap its jaws shut."

"I assure you, it shall remain quite still," said a familiar voice from behind them.

Elizabeth turned, her heart giving an odd little leap as she found herself looking up into the face of Mr. Darcy. He stood a few paces away, as inscrutable as ever.

“I did not know you would be here, Mr. Darcy,” Arabella said.

“Mr. Grayson invited me, as I am Miss Bennet’s intended. Alas, he left the invitation rather late.”

“How lovely,” Arabella said.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, dropping into a neat curtsy. "What a pleasant surprise."

It was not entirely a surprise, of course.

London society, especially during the season, operated within a relatively small circle.

One could reasonably expect to encounter the same faces at most events of note, and once the word of their engagement had made the rounds of the gossips, people would be throwing them together whenever possible.

Still, she had not anticipated seeing him here, among the stuffed birds and ancient artifacts.

She would not have thought it would be of interest to him.

"Miss Bennet. Miss Abernathy." Mr. Darcy bowed to each in turn. "I trust you are enjoying the exhibition?"

Before either could respond, Colonel Fitzwilliam emerged from behind a giant rhinoceros, his countenance brightening considerably at the sight of Arabella. Elizabeth turned her head to watch Arabella’s reaction, and it was an excellent match for her suitor’s.

"Miss Abernathy! What a delightful coincidence," he exclaimed, though Elizabeth somehow suspected it was no coincidence at all. "And Miss Bennet, of course. I had no idea you ladies had an interest in natural history."

This final claim of innocence rang a little false, but Elizabeth could not blame him for it.

"I find all manner of curiosities fascinating," Arabella replied, her earlier aggravation with Mr. Grayson seemingly forgotten as she smiled up at the colonel. "Though I confess, I am not entirely convinced this crocodile is a genuine article and not some clever fabrication."

"I believe Mr. Bullock acquired it from a collector who brought it directly from Egypt," Colonel Fitzwilliam said. "Though one can never be entirely certain, I suppose."

"Its authenticity is well-documented," Mr. Darcy interjected. "The species is Crocodylus niloticus—the Nile crocodile. They have long been known to grow to such impressive dimensions."

Elizabeth studied him with renewed interest. "You are knowledgeable about reptiles, Mr. Darcy?"

A faint flush coloured his cheeks. "Not particularly. I merely read the exhibition catalogue before our arrival."

"How sensible," she replied, her tone light. "One should always be prepared to identify any Nile crocodiles one might encounter in London."

For a moment, she feared she had overstepped, but then she caught the barest hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Indeed, Miss Bennet. Though I believe the Thames is rather too cold for them to flourish."

Elizabeth smiled, surprised and pleased by this glimpse of humour. "A fortunate circumstance for London's watermen."

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed outright. "I can see the broadsheets now: 'Terror on the Thames! Exotic Beasts Devour Unfortunate Boatman!'"

“Do not give our showman Mr. Bullock any ideas of that sort,” Arabella reproved him teasingly.

"You are quite right, Miss Abernathy. I do apologise." The colonel offered his arm. "Perhaps you might allow me to make amends by showing you some of the items from Captain Cook’s travels on the South Seas? The shells are remarkable. Quite unlike anything we have here."

As Arabella accepted his arm with visible pleasure, Elizabeth found herself left alone with Mr. Darcy. She was suddenly, acutely aware of the narrow space between display cases, which forced them to stand rather close.

"Shall we continue through the exhibition, Miss Bennet?" Mr. Darcy asked after a brief, awkward silence.

Elizabeth nodded, and they began to move slowly past the various displays. The Cabinet Room opened into a gallery where specimens from around the world were arranged according to their geographical origin. They stopped before a case containing several brilliantly plumed birds of paradise.

"Such vivid colours," Elizabeth remarked. "I can scarcely believe they are real."

"They are from New Guinea, I believe," Mr. Darcy said. "Also collected during one of Captain Cook's voyages."

"How unfortunate that we can only appreciate their beauty after their lives have ended," Elizabeth mused. "I wonder how much more magnificent they must be in life, with the sun catching their plumage."

"There is much to be said for experiencing the natural world as it was intended," Mr. Darcy conceded. "Though these specimens do allow us to at least glimpse the wonders beyond our shores."

"A poor substitute, perhaps, but better than complete ignorance," Elizabeth agreed. "One must make the best of the opportunities presented."

They moved on to a display of minerals and gemstones, some still embedded in their matrix of rock, others polished to reveal their inner fire.

"It reminds me of the caves in Derbyshire," Mr. Darcy said. "There are similar formations not far from Pemberley, though we have spars there. Hardly exotic."

Elizabeth looked up at him, struck again by the warmth in his voice when he spoke of his home.

Their eyes met briefly, and Elizabeth felt that fluttering sensation in her chest she did whenever he was near.

There was something in his gaze, a warmth, an intensity that she did not wish to acknowledge.

She nearly told him that she hoped to see his home one day, but if she had her way, she never would.

The moment was broken by Mr. Grayson's arrival, with Miss Grayson and several other young ladies in tow.

"Ah, Miss Bennet! Miss Abernathy must be nearby, I presume?" he asked, barely acknowledging Mr. Darcy with a cursory nod.

"She is viewing the shells with Colonel Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth replied, noting with some amusement how Mr. Grayson's expression soured slightly at this news.

"How delightful," he said, in a tone that suggested it was anything but. "I was just explaining to my sister the significance of the mummy casings and wrapping. Did you know that many of them were taken from actual tombs? Quite macabre, is it not?"

His tone was so self-congratulatory that Elizabeth had to suppress a smile. "Indeed, though I believe the Egyptians considered these objects essential for the afterlife. One might argue that removing them is rather inconsiderate to the deceased."

Mr. Grayson blinked. "I suppose one might see it that way. Though surely the dead have no further use for material possessions."

"That would depend entirely on whether the Egyptian understanding of the afterlife was correct, would it not?" Mr. Darcy interjected. "If so, we have deprived countless souls of their provisions for eternity."

Mr. Grayson looked as though he could not decide whether Mr. Darcy was serious or mocking him.

Elizabeth had the sudden notion that rather than questioning the English church, Mr. Darcy was attempting to keep Mr. Grayson occupied so that he would not interrupt the colonel’s time with Arabella. She gazed at him attempting to discern the truth of her suspicion, but he was inscrutable.

But the idea would not be dismissed. Mr. Darcy behaving as Colonel Fitzwilliam’s second of sorts. How extraordinary.

"Brother,” Miss Grayson said winningly, “you simply must tell Miss Everly what you were saying about the mummification process. It was most illuminating."