Chapter Four #2
Elizabeth turned from the window, smoothing her gloves. “I am sorry he cannot join us, though I suspect he will regret missing such an outing.”
“As shall we regret his absence,” Mrs. Gardiner replied lightly, “though I daresay we shall contrive to enjoy ourselves nonetheless.”
Elizabeth did not doubt it.
They were received into the carriage with proper civility, Mr. Darcy assisting Mrs. Gardiner first, then offering his hand to Elizabeth.
She felt the steadiness of his grasp, the brief moment of shared awareness before she settled into her seat opposite him, Miss Darcy beside her brother and Mrs. Gardiner at Elizabeth’s other side.
The carriage set off at once, the motion smooth and unhurried.
“I must confess,” Elizabeth said as they turned toward the road leading nearer the sea, “I have not visited Mrs. Peacock’s establishment. I feel myself quite remiss in the matter.”
Miss Darcy brightened immediately.
“Oh, you must not think so! You will find it quite delightful. The ices are the best I have ever tasted, and the pastries… I do not know how one might choose among them without great difficulty.”
“That is a grave concern,” Elizabeth said. “To be confronted with abundance and required to select only one—such a trial might overwhelm the stoutest constitution.”
Mr. Darcy smiled faintly. “Then you must rely upon experience to guide you.”
“And if experience only deepens the difficulty?” Elizabeth returned. “For then, one knows too well what is to be lost by choosing amiss.”
“In that case,” he said, “one must adopt a strategy.”
“Indeed? I should like to hear it.”
“A careful balance of reason and indulgence,” he replied. “One selects with judgment and allows oneself the liberty of enjoyment.”
Elizabeth considered him with a look of playful skepticism. “You make it sound almost virtuous.”
“I believe it may be so.”
“Then I must revise my understanding entirely,” she said. “For I had always supposed that a well-made confection exists solely to banish all dismal thoughts and ought therefore to be enjoyed without restraint.”
Mr. Darcy laughed—a warm, genuine sound that surprised her, though she could not say why.
“I cannot disagree,” he said. “A good pastry may accomplish more for one’s spirits than a great deal of philosophy.”
“Then we are agreed.”
“Entirely.”
Miss Darcy laughed delicately between them. “I am very glad you both think so, for I intend to enjoy mine without the least hesitation.”
“And very properly,” Mrs. Gardiner added. “It is not every day one may indulge in such pleasures with impunity.”
The carriage soon drew up before the tea shop, its position precisely as Elizabeth had imagined from description—situated near the curve of the shore, its wide windows admitting both light and the pleasant view beyond.
The sign of Mrs. Peacock’s establishment swung gently above the door, painted in cheerful colors that suggested welcome rather than ostentation.
They alighted and entered together.
The interior was as charming as its exterior promised.
Light streamed in through the tall windows, illuminating a series of small tables set neatly across the room.
Delicate china was arranged with care, and the air carried the faint sweetness of sugar and baked goods, mingled pleasantly with the freshness of the sea.
A glass-fronted counter displayed an array of pastries—tarts filled with fruit, small cakes iced with care, and dishes of ices kept cool beneath polished covers.
Elizabeth paused just inside, taking it in. “It is even more agreeable than I had expected.”
“I am very glad you think so,” Miss Darcy said.
They were shown to a table near the window, where the view extended toward the water, the tide glinting in the sunlight. A young woman came to take their orders, and each made their selection with varying degrees of deliberation.
Miss Darcy chose a strawberry ice and a small almond cake, her expression already bright with anticipation.
Mrs. Gardiner selected a lemon syllabub with a light sponge, declaring it a favorite of hers when well prepared.
Elizabeth, after a moment’s consideration, chose a raspberry tart with a vanilla ice, reasoning that she ought to begin with something she could compare to other experiences.
Mr. Darcy requested a lemon pastry and a dish of orange ice, his choice made with certainty.
When the plates were set before them, Elizabeth could not help but smile. “If these prove half so agreeable as they appear, I shall be entirely satisfied.”
“You will not be disappointed,” Mr. Darcy said.
She tasted the ice first, the cool sweetness dissolving instantly. “Oh—this is excellent.”
Miss Darcy laughed. “I told you so.”
“I shall not doubt you again in matters of confectionery.”
“You may doubt me in others, if you wish,” Miss Darcy said with gentle humor, “but not in this.”
Elizabeth turned toward her. “Have you tried sea bathing, Miss Darcy?”
Miss Darcy shook her head. “Not yet, though I have very much wished to do so.”
“Then you must join me,” Elizabeth said. “I mean to attempt it soon, and I should be most glad of your company.”
Miss Darcy’s eyes lit at once. “Oh! I should like that exceedingly.” She turned quickly to her brother. “May I, Brother?”
Mr. Darcy regarded her, then inclined his head. “You may.”
Miss Darcy clasped her hands in delight. “Thank you!”
Elizabeth smiled at her enthusiasm.
“You shall find it both bracing and invigorating, I think.”
“I shall rely upon your experience to guide me,” Miss Darcy said.
Mr. Darcy looked toward Elizabeth then, his expression thoughtful.
“I have no doubt Miss Bennet is equal to the task,” he said. “She appears well suited to any undertaking she chooses.”
Elizabeth felt a warmth rise to her cheeks, though she kept her tone light.
“You give me far too much credit, sir.”
“I think not.”
There was something in the steadiness of his gaze that made her glance away.
The remainder of their time in the shop passed with ease. Conversation flowed naturally, the pleasures of the table matched by the pleasures of company. Elizabeth found herself increasingly at her ease, her earlier awareness melting into something more comfortable, though no less engaging.
When at last they rose to depart, the brightness of the day had deepened, the sea calling them outward once more.
They walked along the shore, the sand firm beneath their feet, the gentle rhythm of the waves accompanying their progress. Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Darcy soon moved a little ahead, their conversation animated, leaving Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy walking side by side.
There was a peace between them—not uncomfortable, but full of possibility.
Darcy paused suddenly near a cluster of rocks where the tide had receded, leaving small pools of water glinting in the light.
“One moment, if you will.”
Elizabeth watched as he stepped carefully among the stones, reaching down to retrieve something lodged between them.
When he returned, he held out a shell.
It was a small conch, its surface delicately ridged, the colors subdued and varied—cream and pale rose with faint lines of amber tracing its form. It caught the light in a way that revealed its subtle beauty.
“I thought you might like this.”
Elizabeth accepted it, her fingers brushing his briefly. “It is lovely.” She turned it in her hand, admiring the shape. “I shall treasure it.”
A small smile touched his expression. “I am glad of it.”
“I think,” she added thoughtfully, “I shall rub it with a little oil when I return. It will bring out the color more clearly.”
“I have no doubt it will.”
She glanced at him. “You are very attentive, Mr. Darcy.”
“I find I wish to be so.”
The words, though tenderly spoken, carried significance. Elizabeth felt her breath catch. He speaks with great consideration.
“I believe,” she said, choosing her words with care, “that attentiveness is a quality to be valued.”
“As is discernment.”
“And sincerity.”
He met her gaze fully then. “Most of all, sincerity.” There was something in the moment—something unspoken yet understood—that held them both in stillness for a brief space of time.
Elizabeth felt it clearly. He is in earnest. She did not turn away.
Mrs. Gardiner’s voice broke gently through the stillness.
“Elizabeth, we must not linger too long.”
Elizabeth turned, the moment easing though not entirely lost.
“Of course.”
Mrs. Gardiner approached with Miss Darcy, her expression welcoming though there was a hint of purpose in her manner.
“We must return,” she said. “We have a supper engagement this evening with one of your uncle’s business associates.”
“Already?” Miss Darcy said, a note of disappointment in her voice.
“I am afraid so.”
Darcy inclined his head. “Then we shall not detain you.”
Miss Darcy brightened. “But you will come again? Perhaps the day after tomorrow—for tea?”
Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “We should be very happy to do so.”
Elizabeth glanced toward Mr. Darcy.
Their eyes met, and a small, private smile passed between them—brief, but full of understanding. It lingered a moment longer than either quite intended. Elizabeth turned away first, though the warmth of it remained, unsettling in its certainty.
“I shall look forward to it,” she said.
“As shall I,” he replied.
And though the party soon separated when the Darcy carriage delivered them to their doorstep, Elizabeth carried with her the warmth of the afternoon—and the certainty that something had begun, though she could not yet say what shape it might take.