Page 75 of Pride and Prejudice Resolutions

"I know," she whispered back, her eyes twinkling. "She smiled at me when I came in. It was very focused."

"That is the infamous Matlock Smile. It means she has plans for you. Run while you can."

"I do not wish to run," she said simply.

Robert stared at her.She does not wish to run.He wanted to kiss her. Right there. In front of his mother and the potted palm next to them.

"Gardiner!" The Earl's boom interrupted his reverie. "Come here, old chap! I have opened the '98 Port. I want your opinion on the corkage."

Robert watched as his father dragged the man towards the drinks tray. He watched as his mother glided towards them.

"Miss Bennet," the Countess said, stopping in front of Jane, inspecting her from silver hem to blonde curl.

Robert held his breath.

"You have excellent taste in silk," she declared. "And you have done something to my son's hair. It is actually combed. I approve."

Miss Bennet curtsied. "Thank you, Lady Matlock. Though I can take no credit for his Lordship's grooming."

"Oh, you can," she murmured, her eyes sliding to Robert. "You most certainly can. Come, sit by me. I want to hear about this Cheapside of yours. Robert seems to think it is the new Eden."

Robert exhaled.Step one survived. Now for the dinner.

The dining table at Matlock House was long enough to land a small air balloon on. Robert sat on one side, Miss Bennet beside him. Darcy, Miss Elizabeth and Georgiana were opposite. The Earl and Countess held the ends like monarchs, having the Gardiners nearby.

Robert spent the first course, a soup that tasted of sherry and intimidation, watching the others.

He watched Darcy. His cousin was eating mechanically, his eyes darting to Miss Elizabeth every three seconds as if checking she was still there. It was painful. It was adorable.

He watched Miss Elizabeth. She was seated next to the Earl, opposite her uncle. This was the test. His father liked to test people. He liked to ask impossible questions about politics or the Napoleonic Wars just to see them squirm.

"So, Miss Elizabeth," the Earl rumbled, stabbing a piece of turbot. "Fitzwilliam tells me you read. Novels, mostly?"

It was a trap. The Earl hated novels.

"I read everything, my Lord," she replied, her voice clear and unafraid. "Though I confess a partiality for history. It is oftenmore amusing than fiction, as the characters make more foolish mistakes."

The Earl paused. "Mistakes? Give me an example."

"Well," Elizabeth mused, "Caesar trusting Brutus. Charles of Sweden invading Russia in winter. Or perhaps... a certain Earl thinking he could intimidate a guest by frowning at her over a fish course."

Silence descended on the table. Darcy dropped his fork. Robert choked on his wine. The Earl stared at Miss Elizabeth. His bushy eyebrows drew together. Then, he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

"Hah! She has teeth! I like her! Fitzwilliam, she has teeth!"

"I am aware, Uncle," Darcy murmured, looking at her with a mixture of terror and absolute worship.

"Good," the Earl pointed his knife at her. "Do not let him bore you, girl. He is a good lad, but he takes himself too seriously. Needs shaking up."

"I am doing my best, my Lord," she smiled.

"Excellent." The Earl turned to Mr Gardiner. "Gardiner, pass the salt. And tell me about this sugar tariff."

Robert relaxed into his chair. He turned to Miss Bennet. "She has conquered him," he whispered. "It took me two and thirty years to get him to laugh at a joke, and she did it in five minutes."

"Lizzy is very brave," the Goddess said proudly. "She is not easily frightened."

"And you?" Robert asked, lowering his voice. "Are you easily frightened?"