"You should finish the currant scone."

"I couldn't. Not after dessert."

"Dessert? That's what you call it?"

"That's what I call it now."

"And how will you call for it from your cook?"

"Never from Cook. No, I'd have my butler clear the dining room of guests and servants and then lock the door behind him…"

"And? ….…. Oh."

"Some nights I wouldn't even have dinner – just dessert."

"My, it's getting hot around here. We should walk around."

"Would you like to save what's left of the currant scone?"

"No, scatter it for the birds. There's a magpie over there eyeing it."

"If it was the cheese scone, I'd save it. I'd have it gilded. I'd wear it as a watch fob; all the dandies would be jealous."

"Why the cheese scone? ….…. Oh."

"We'll have cheese scones at every meal."

"You'd soon tire of them."

"Never. Besides there are other kinds of scones - strawberry, cherry; gooseberry."

"Please don't look at me like that when we're in public."

"Butterscotch, caramel; chocolate."

"Hush ….. You're incorrigible."

"Encourageable."

"You'll get no encouragement from me."

"Too late."

"Enough I say. Don't you dare …. Now come with me before we get caught by one of the gardeners."

"Too late."

"No, it's not. Now come on."

"Are you going to live with the Bingleys?"

"That's quite the change of subject."

"We can't go on cheese sconing with that gardener over there watching."

"Do you think he saw?"

"No, he just came through that gate. You haven't answered my question."

"I still have a month to go to serve out a full year complete. And then yes, I'll probably live with the Bingleys - if they'll have me. But having me in addition to Mary and Kitty might be too much."

"The three of you don't add up to one Caroline Bingley; let alone taking the Hursts into account. Besides, you likely won't be there that long."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know."

"What have you been up to since Christmas?"

"That's quite the change of subject."

"My mind is in turmoil thinking on the previous subject. You haven't answered my question."

"Not a lot really. I stayed at Pemberley until the season started, then I went to town. In town I was quite the social butterfly, flitting from ball to soirée to dinner meeting young ladies, whom my Aunt Matlock thought met my criteria for a bride, until I was able to escape by heading north to view an estate for my friend Bingley."

"And what criteria might those be?"

"I told my aunt I wanted to marry someone like Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"What?"

"You understand that this was before I found you here."

"And has she? That is, found someone like me?"

"She has found, and presented, at least a dozen intelligent, witty, gracious, kind, beautiful, talented,

young ladies."

"And pray, when am I to wish you joy?"

"That is exactly the kind of question which I would expect you to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from introduction to admiration; from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, all in a moment."

"I take that you have not advanced from introduction to admiration with any of these ladies"

"I will not take anything away from these ladies, they are each admirable in their own way; but as far as I am concerned, they all lack a certain je ne sais quoi."

"I wager your aunt was frustrated with that sort of criticism."

"Yes, she was; but all I could tell her was that each of her candidates lacked the sparkle of Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Sparkle? I'm no diamond."

"As far as I'm concerned you are a diamond of the first water."

"Of the fifth or sixth water maybe. Next, you'll be raving about my singing."

"Oh, I have."

"I'm afraid to ask if you have a favourite song."

"I'm partial to Greensleeves."

"If you wish for any more cheese scones in your future, you'll cast about for another favourite."

"Oh?"

"You'll just have to take my word for it."

"Very well. Back to my Aunt Matlock - she wants to meet you; to assess your sparkle."

"That is unlikely to happen; I so seldom attend St. James's these days."

"It can be very easily arranged."

"You want me to assist her in finding my replacement. I think not."

"Au contraire. Once she is blinded by your sparkle, she will cease looking and instead assist in your introduction to the ton."

"You can't be serious. Once she has her hands on me, she is likely to have me drawn and quartered for having humiliated her favourite nephew."

"Not if you're wearing my ring when the two of you are introduced."

"You really want to go there? After what happened last time?"

"We're compromised."

"We were compromised last time and look what happened. And what do you mean 'compromised'? You said the gardener didn't see us."

"The magpie did. It'll tell the gardener; who'll tell the scullery maid; who'll tell Cook; who'll tell the butler; who'll tell the earl; who'll tell his sister; who'll tell her friend; who'll tell my Aunt Catherine; who'll tell my cousin Anne; and it'll be in all the newspapers tomorrow afternoon."

"Then I suppose I can expect a proposal from you."

"There's no need."

"Oh?"

"After the first compromise, I proposed and you accepted."

"But wasn't that negated by you being jilted by me?"

"No, not at all. That was just the end of the first act. After a short intermission we're going to continue on as before."

"So, as far as you are concerned, we are engaged."

"As far as you are concerned, we are engaged; you confirmed it with the cheese scone."

"Look – you should know, I don't know how to say this without hurting you – but I don't love you; if I marry you, it'll be purely for mercenary reasons."

"No, even as you say that you know that's not true. You stand before me all ablush, you're starting to pant; you're staring at my lips; you're licking your lips; you're wishing that gardener to blazes. You're not doing that because of the size of my purse."

"'Tis just lust."

"'Tis more and you know it."

"I don't love you."

"You will; to know me is to love me."

"You really are proud and arrogant."

"And you love me for it."

"For all your talk of my loving you; what of you loving me?"

"You remember the scene of the first compromise?"

"Yes, the parsonage at Hunsford."

"Have you not wondered what I was doing there?"

"You came to see how I was."

"Really?"

"I admit that it was very unexpected."

"I was there to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

"Oh."

"And my affections and wishes are still unchanged. And speaking of ardency, come – I don't think the gardener will be able to see us if we step behind that folly."