Mr and Mrs Darcy 02 Suspense & Sensibility by Carrie Bebris Read Free Book Online Page B

shirt. This
one is travel-worn."
    "Of course."
    "Come along, then. This way."
    Harry took the stairs two at a time, forcing Darcy to trot to keep up
with him. At the landing Darcy paused, presuming he was to wait in the drawing
room. Mr. Dashwood, however, urged him up the next set of stairs. "You must see the looking glass I brought home with me. Found it in Norland's attic."
    Darcy followed Mr. Dashwood to his dressing room, where the servants
were propping the mirror against the wall.
    "Leave it for now," Harry instructed. "You can mount it
when I've decided exactly where I want it." The servants departed.
    The mirror was indeed a striking objet d'art. The glass itself was
perhaps five feet long and two feet wide, with a heavy gold frame that added
another six inches to the sides and bottom. Intricately carved images of nude
athletes stood out in bas relief, laurel leaves entwining their muscular forms.
At the top, a twelve-inch crown boasted a man's face at its center, his
features perfectly capturing the classical ideal of male beauty.
    "What do you think?" asked Mr. Dashwood. "It has to be
centuries old, at least - a real antiquity. Looks to me like it could have come
from ancient Greece."
    Darcy paused before replying. Though he appreciated its artistry, he
doubted the treasure could be as old as Mr. Dashwood believed. To his
knowledge, the ancient Greeks had made only hand mirrors of polished metal; the
techniques used to fashion a looking glass of this size and construction were
much later developments. This mirror, therefore, must be a relatively modern
creation, designed to appeal to the current vogue for classical art and
architecture.
    Yet the mirror seemed older. Despite the differences in construction,
somehow it could stand among other ancient artifacts in the British Museum and
not be out of place. He supposed Elizabeth would say it had the character of a
genuine antique - an aura of history about it. "How long has the glass been
in your family's possession?" he asked.
    "I have no idea. My housekeeper thought it belonged to Sir Francis
Dashwood, an ancestor, but where he got it from, I don't know."
    "You are descended from Sir Francis Dashwood?"
    Mr. Dashwood grinned. "Heard the shocking stories, have you? The
Hell-Fire Club and all that? Yes, he occupies a branch somewhere in my family
tree, but he died childless, so I'm uncertain exactly how he fits in. I also
don't know how this mirror found its way to Norland, as his main estate was in
Buckinghamshire. But when I saw it, I simply had to bring it back here with me."
    His valet entered. The servant removed Mr. Dashwood's coat and started
to unfasten his cuffs.
    Darcy took this as his cue to leave. "Shall I await you in the
drawing room?"
    "No. Do stay! I've always aspired to be like Beau Brummell,
entertaining visitors while completing my toilette." He shed his rumpled
shirt for a clean one.
    "Quite a lofty ambition," Darcy said dryly.
    "I wish I had but half his skill with cravats." The valet
offered a highly starched neckcloth. Harry stationed himself before the mirror.
"What do you think, Mr. Darcy? Should I try the
mathematical today? Or settle for the Napoleon? Which does Miss Bennet prefer?"
    "I am not privy to Miss Bennet's opinions on the subject of
gentlemen's neckwear." Darcy ardently wished for another topic of conversation
altogether. To emulate the vain Brummell's practice of holding court in his
dressing room seemed the most ridiculous form of idolatry. A rooster imitating
a peacock.
    Mr. Dashwood attempted the mathematical, fumbled its folds, and had to
discard the cloth for a fresh one. "I'm told Brummell often goes through
stacks of neckcloths before achieving perfection."
    "Such a practice sounds like an incredible waste of his own and his
servants' time."
    Mr. Dashwood met Darcy's gaze in the mirror. His natural exuberance
dimmed at the disapproval he detected in Darcy's eyes. "I suppose you are
right in that." He began tying the next