Page 76
Darcy did not disappoint:
“μετ᾽ ὀλίγον δὲ τούτων Δωριεὺς ὁ Διαγόρου ἐκ Ῥόδου εἰς Ἑλλήσποντον εἰσέπλει ἀρχομένου χειμῶνος τέτταρσι καὶ δέκα ναυσὶν ἅμα ἡμέρᾳ. κατιδὼν δὲ ὁ τῶν Ἀθηναίων ἡμεροσκόπος ἐσήμηνε τοῖς στρατηγοῖς. οἱ δὲ ἀνηγάγοντο ἐπ᾽ αὐτὸν εἴκοσι ναυσίν, ἃς ὁ Δωριεὺς φυγὼν πρὸς τὴν γῆν ἀνεβίβαζε τὰς αὑτοῦ τριήρεις, ὡς ἤνοιγε, περὶ τὸ Ῥοίτειον.”[10]
He now had a distinctly triumphant smirk on his face.
“It would appear that you know the volumes of your library very well, sir! How fortunate that your sister anticipated your needs.”
With a smile Elizabeth picked up Cecilia and, before Darcy could protest, she began:
“CHAPTER I— A JOURNEY
Peace to the spirits of my honoured parents, respected be their remains, and immortalized their virtues! may time, while it moulders their frail relicks to dust, commit to tradition the record of their goodness; and Oh, may their orphan-descendant be influenced through life by the remembrance of their purity, and be solaced in death, that by her it was unsullied!
Such was the secret prayer with which the only survivor of the Beverley family quitted the abode of her youth, and residence of her forefathers; while tears of recollecting sorrow filled her eyes, and obstructed the last view of her native town which had excited them.”[11]
Darcy was about to object to being read such tripe, when a small knock at the door diverted his attention. After he gave a peremptory command for the person to enter, a maid appeared, looking very uncomfortable.
“Well, who is it?” Darcy demanded, annoyed he had been tricked into listening to a book he had no interest in, ashamed by his inability to even see who was at the door and knowing he was behaving badly in front of this pretty bluestocking. He was sure she was pretty.
Before the maid could gather the courage to reply to this rough enquiry, Finn emerged from the dressing room once more and saved the damsel from further distress.
“It is Clara, sir,” said Finn. Then, addressing the girl: “Just take that chair against the wall. You brought something to get on with, I hope?”
The girl produced a small workbag from behind her back. After Mr Finn nodded his approval, she sat down on the chair and began to rummage in it.
Elizabeth could not resist. After Mr Finn retreated, she leant down close to Darcy’s ear and whispered, “Crosspatch.”
Not being aware of his reader’s proximity, Darcy flinched, the hair stood up on the back of his neck and, much to his mortification, his nether regions stiffened into the beginnings of an erection.
Noting the troubled look on Darcy’s face, Elizabeth triumphed that her shaft had gone home—that Mr Darcy was now conscious of and sorry for his grumpy behaviour. Completely oblivious to the true reason for Darcy’s mortification, she continued reading:
“Cecilia, this fair traveller, had lately entered into the one-and-twentieth year of her age. Her ancestors had been rich farmers in the county of Suffolk, though her father, in whom a spirit of elegance had supplanted the rapacity of wealth, had spent his time as a private country gentleman, satisfied, without increasing his store, to live upon what he inherited from the labours of his predecessors. She had lost him in her early youth, and her mother had not long survived him. They had bequeathed to her 10,000 pounds...”
As she narrated the familiar tale, Elizabeth’s mind wandered. The story seemed suddenly so apposite. The irony of having to read aloud the story of Cecilia—whose circumstances were so similar to her own—while she was trying to hide her identity was great. But the unfortunate differences did not escape Elizabeth either—she could only wish she was as well off as Cecilia upon the death of her most beloved, but indolent, father. Despite these trials, Elizabeth did her best to allow no trace of emotion to enter her voice.
But Darcy was not listening anyway. His mind was seething with the knowledge of his arousal. His first thought was to check with his hands that the covers were sufficiently tented around his loins not to betray his excited state. His second was relief that a piece of his anatomy that he had thought might never work again was functional. Admittedly he was not likely to put it to much use, but at least, he thought, he could still call himself a man. Next came the disturbing realisation that he had been cast into this state by an anonymous female who had just walked in off the street. He had never been so libidinous before. Was this some disastrous consequence of his malady or, perhaps, part of his recovery? Hard on the heels of that disquieting thought came the realisation that it was her scent that had aroused him—well, that and the tickling of his ear by her breath. But she was merely wearing lavender water, not some exotic concoction from Floris. What was so special about that? Every second genteel lady wore it.
After Elizabeth finished chapter one, Finn walked out of the dressing room and complimented her on her reading. Mr Darcy’s valet then sat down on a nearby chair and, like Clara, began to ply a needle and thread. Elizabeth thought the four of them made quite the picture of domesticity. Clara was clearly hemming a lady’s handkerchief while Finn was sewing a collar onto a nightshirt. Thus, they continued for some time while Elizabeth read aloud. Elizabeth’s occasional glances at Darcy determined that he had sunk back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Whether he had fallen asleep, or if he was even listening, she could not know.
Engrossed in her reading, Elizabeth did not hear a carriage pull up outside, but Finn did, and he had already determined it was Miss Georgiana, returned from her morning calls, before Darcy’s sister appeared at the door a few minutes later. If Georgie was surprised to see a female in her brother’s bedchamber when she peeped in through the open door, she did not show it, giving only a questioning look to Finn for permission to enter the room and a smile to the reader when Elizabeth glanced up. Darcy opened his eyes when he heard the swish of silk that heralded his sister’s approach, suggesting he had been awake all along. Elizabeth stopped reading.
“Oh, brother, did I wake you? Are you enjoying Cecilia? It is one of my favourites!”
Elizabeth suppressed a smile. After Darcy’s earlier grumpiness, she fully expected him to come out with a cutting comment, like those for which her father had been famous. But he surprised her with a mild reply and a thank you to his sister for thinking of him.
Parking his needle, Finn quickly surrendered his chair to Georgie and introduced Miss Gardiner. Georgie then perched at her brother’s bedside and poured an account of her morning calls into his ear.
The people Georgie spoke of, being wholly unknown to Elizabeth, could not be of interest to her. During the narrative, Elizabeth observed Darcy surreptitiously, wondering what had befallen him. It was clear his sight was affected, hence her employment. She wondered how badly and whether the condition was temporary or permanent. Perhaps he had taken another toss from his horse? His shaved head suggested he had cracked his skull. He did not look as handsome as she remembered him—his hooked nose more prominent and the orbits of his eyes sunken. In short, he did not look well and a wave of pity for him gripped her. She really would have liked to stroke the bristles of his shaved head, whether to comfort him or satisfy her own curiosity, she was not sure. Finally, a familiar name in Georgie’s discourse penetrated Elizabeth’s reverie.
“We called at Floris on the way home to pick up the new scent they devised for Aunt Fitzwilliam and saw the Bingley sisters there. They asked if you had returned from Vienna and how you went on.”
“Really?” replied Darcy inscrutably.
“They said that they would tell Charles you had returned as soon as he arrived back from the north. Apparently, he has had some trouble with his factories there—one of them was burnt to the ground.”
“He mentioned some problems before we departed for the Continent. He would have done better to have gone north earlier.”
The sound of another carriage in the street had drawn Finn to the window once more. He saved Georgie from finding a suitable reply to Darcy’s uncharacteristic criticism of his friend by announcing the arrival of Darcy’s physician.
