“And then I created a list of ladies for him.”
Miss Bennet looked like she was going to faint away. “No! You did?”
Constance nodded. “It broke my heart to do it, but I had promised I would.”
Miss Bennet’s hand covered her heart as she shook her head. “How tragic.”
“There are several interesting bits to that tale, which I will tell you when we are not beset on every side by gentlemen,” Constance assured her. “Suffice it to say that none of the ladies on that list met with Mr. Crawford’s approval, and I was fortunate to gain his favour.”
Again, the romantic Miss Bennet sighed wistfully. But then, she sat up a little straighter, her eyes shining with excitement.
“Then, perhaps you could help me.”
“With what?” Trefor asked before he could think better of it.
“With behaving as I ought while in town. It is not that I am an improper lady like Mr. Crawford was an improper gentleman. I just have never been to town before, and, well, I would like to make a good impression. After all, I would like to marry someday, and, to be frank, there are not many gentlemen from whom to choose in Hertfordshire – at least, there are none to my liking,” she clarified.
“If Miss Linton helped me, perhaps her brother could help you by giving you a gentleman’s viewpoint,” Mr. Crawford suggested.
Miss Bennet shook her head vigorously. “That would not work.”
Trefor was inclined to agree. He had seen what had happened when he had allowed his sister to help Henry.
“I am certain I need a lady’s advice,” Miss Bennet continued as Trefor recalled the article in the paper with his sister’s name attached to it.
“Besides, Mr. Linton is far too provoking,” she concluded, bringing Trefor’s full attention back to the discussion at hand.
“I am provoking?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes.”
“I do not see how.”
Her brow furrowed as a scowl settle on her lips. “Must you always argue with me?”
“I do not argue with you. You argue with me,” he retorted. Blast! That was not what he should have said. It was not what he would have said to any other lady, other than his sister.
Miss Bennet rolled her eyes and, making a sweeping motion with her hand towards him, said to Constance, “You see what I mean?”
Constance laughed. “Yes, I know very well of what you speak. He provokes me regularly, but he means well – most of the time.”
“If you say so,” Miss Bennet replied, though she did not sound at all convinced of the fact.
[from A Scandal in Springtime]
