Page 25

"The artist has captured a certain arrogance in the eyes," Miss Bennet said, studying the haughty Regency buck. "One suspects he was not entirely fond of his subject."

Miss Abernathy laughed. "Indeed! Father says Mr. Houghton refused to pay, claiming the artist deliberately made his chin appear weak. One suspects that is why the artist has chosen to display it."

"I value honesty above flattery," Darcy interjected, holding Miss Bennet's gaze as she turned to him. "But is a scrupulously faithful reproduction art?"

"Is the purpose of a portrait not to capture the subject's likeness with fidelity?" she countered.

"Fidelity to what? The mere arrangement of features, or the essence of the person?"

Miss Bennet tilted her head. "Yet does this not grant the artist undue power to interpret the character of their subject? One cannot see character writ upon another’s brow."

Fitzwilliam rejoined them in an ebullient mood. "Consider my cousin here. A strictly accurate portrait would show his stern countenance but might miss his loyalty and generosity."

Darcy flushed at this praise, but Miss Bennet seemed absorbed.

"Initial impressions may be corrected upon closer observation," Darcy added, hoping she understood his meaning.

Something flickered in her expression. Curiosity, perhaps.

"To perception in art and in life," Fitzwilliam said, "may we all see clearly what matters most." He glanced at Miss Abernathy, who was following his every movement. He offered her his arm, and the two moved away, heads inclined towards each other as they spoke in hushed tones.

Mrs. Abernathy glanced over at Miss Bennet and then Darcy, smiling and then following her daughter. When Darcy mimicked his cousin and offered his own arm to Miss Bennet, she took it without hesitation.

As the salon drew to a close, his aunt tapped his arm with her fan. Darcy left Miss Bennet in an animated conversation with Lady Cartwright and other respected matrons of society to speak with her.

"Your Miss Bennet has acquitted herself admirably," Lady Matlock commented. "I confess I was not certain how she would manage."

"You deliberately placed her in a lions' den," Darcy said somewhat accusingly.

"I did," his aunt acknowledged without apology. "But I was not the first.” She gave him a knowing stare, and he had to admit that he was at fault for that.

“You should be pleased, Darcy,” she continued. “Do you know that Lady Jersey herself expressed her surprise at Miss Bennet's 'unexpected refinement'? From her, that constitutes high praise indeed."

"Miss Bennet deserved better than to be subjected to such scrutiny," Darcy insisted.

"Perhaps," Lady Matlock conceded. "But she needed to face it, sooner rather than later.

Better here, under my roof where I could ensure matters did not go too far, than elsewhere without such protection.

" She patted his arm. "Your Miss Bennet is strong.

She will make an excellent mistress of Pemberley. "

"If she consents to be," he murmured, almost to himself.

Lady Matlock lifted one eyebrow.

Before his aunt could say anything more, Miss Bennet approached with the Abernathys. Her cheeks were flushed with animation, and Darcy closed his eyes briefly to avoid imagining her in other . . . surroundings.

"Your Ladyship," Miss Bennet said, curtsying gracefully. "I wished to thank you for a most illuminating salon."

"The pleasure was mine, Miss Bennet," Lady Matlock replied, her tone warming perceptibly. "I hope we shall see much more of you in the coming weeks."

With a meaningful glance at her nephew, she moved away to bid farewell to the Abernathys along with Fitzwilliam, leaving Darcy alone with Miss Bennet.

"You have endured a difficult day," he said quietly. "I fear you were subjected to more scrutiny than you deserved."

"It was an educational day, and not only because of the art," she replied, her lips curving in a small smile. "Though I confess, I am somewhat fatigued by the constant need to guard my words."

"You did magnificently," Darcy said. "Every person of consequence in that room now understands why—" He stopped himself. Now that he had succeeded in complimenting her once, he did not seem able to stop.

"Why what, Mr. Darcy?" she prompted, her eyes searching his.

"Why I hold you in such high esteem," he finished, choosing his words carefully.

She looked away, a shadow crossing her features. "Yet surely today has also shown you the difficulties our match would present. The constant speculation, the scepticism regarding my suitability. You must see that we would both be better served by ending this charade."

Why was she so determined to end things when every day he was more aware of how well-suited they were? "On the contrary," Darcy said firmly. "Today has only confirmed what I already knew: that you possess the strength of character and the intelligence to face any challenge."

He watched as her expression shifted, a complex mixture of emotions playing across her features. For a moment, he thought she might argue further, but instead, she merely offered him a small, enigmatic smile.

"You are very kind, sir," she said softly. "But I believe our carriage awaits."

As they walked towards the entrance, he thought that something had changed between them. But whether it would bring them closer to a genuine understanding or merely complicate matters further, he could not yet say.