“Shall I ask my cousin and… and Bingley then?” he asked, a painful attempt at a smile forming at the mention of Bingley’s name.
Nodding she laid a hand on his arm once more. “Remember, that he stood by you. Even in face of his sister! Such a loyal friend would not wish to see you distressed at her words–words which he did not share.” Smirking, she gave his arm a light squeeze before letting go. “Besides which, Mr. Bingley and my sister would be disappointed should they not have another excuse to be in each other's company.”
“That they would,” he chuckled, his eyes crinkling in the corners as they moved down the hall in search of them.
Chin dipping, Elizabeth felt her cheeks warming as she considered the man beside her.Intelligent. Handsome. Kind. Witty. He… he appeared as perfect as any man might. Or rather, as perfect for her as any man might; those flaws she had witnessed now understood. Easily forgivable.
Thoughts returning to those moments before Mr. Thomson’s arrival, a small smile formed.He had all but admitted he loved her. ‘Of falling for a woman too far above me.’ The way his eyes had fixed on her as he said it, there could be no doubt.
She had not had a moment to answer him though. Perhaps she ought to now?
Gaze turning to Mr. Darcy, she let out a small sigh as he began to speak, “We have the answer to your puzzle regarding Lady Charmane, it would seem.”
Horrid timing.
Stilling in front of the guest rooms he knocked before facing her in full. “You and your sisters must have been correct about there being a hidden space or passage; how else did the voices of Bingley and his sister travel between the two rooms? It explains everything with Lady Charmane as well.”
Her eyes widening as she recalled the strangeness of the sound, she gave a murmur of agreement.How had she forgotten that? Very easily, it would seem. What with Miss Bingley’s horrid words regarding Mr. Darcy, his tale of his family and of what had happened in London… not to mention his declaration of affection and Mr. Thomson’s unwelcomed arrival. It was no wonder she had forgotten.
Mr. Darcy’s declaration would have been enough to turn her head. Very much enough.
“Darcy?” Colonel Fitzwilliam questioned as he opened the door in his stockinged feet. “Miss Elizabeth? Is something wrong?”
“No, no,” Mr. Darcy said quickly. “We thought you, Bingley, and Miss Elizabeth’s sisters might wish to join us on a walk?”
Face brightening, the Colonel turned, a pair of boots in hand before Elizabeth could even blink.
“Of course,” he answered as he shoved a boot on. “Give me but a minute and I shall be ready.”
“It is no rush,” Mr. Darcy said, a soft snigger hidden as he observed his cousin. “We have not even asked the others yet.”
Lips thinning, the Colonel studied Mr. Darcy seriously.
“I see. Well, I shall be ready in a minute all the same. Meet you in the hall, shall I?” And with that he closed his door, Mr. Darcy’s laughter growing as they went to ask the others.
In no more than ten minutes each of their party had donned their winter garb and, as one delighted group, hurried down the long hall, stairs, another hall, and through the front door.
The crisp chill invigorating, they made their way around the house at a leisurely pace, the staff having kept the paths nearest the house well cleared of snow. Out in front of their small group, the Colonel and Mary spoke softly and often, sweet looks and laughter the welcome result. Behind them strolled another couple–though as attentive to Jane as ever, Mr. Bingley remained unnaturally quiet and subdued, his gaze, when not fixed on her, making its way to Mr. Darcy, until, after some few minutes, Mr. Darcy would bear the scrutiny no longer.
“I take it your sister will be leaving?” Mr. Darcy questioned as he and Elizabeth drew alongside.
“How could you?”
“Miss Elizabeth and I happened to hear–the library and study are… connected. As the ladies suggested, there is likely a passageway tucked away; if one stands in just the right place, all manner of sounds can pass through.”
“I,” Mr. Bingley gulped, his forehead pinched as he viewed his friend sadly. “I can only say how sorry I am, truly, for her foolish words. I promise, she shall be gone tonight if possible, tomorrow at the latest.”
“Think nothing of it; your sister is her own person, no one could form her otherwise.” Shaking his head, he smiled incredulously. “One peculiarity I have noticed is that tendency to connect the misconduct of one to near and even distant relations… not that views of that nature have not found root the world over–even America–still, this nation of ours, at times, gives that stance far too great a standing.”
“It does not affect men too greatly,” Jane remarked, her gaze turning up to Mr. Bingley tenderly, “In this instance, I suspect that is a thing to be grateful for–I, for one, would not wish anything your sister has, or may yet do, to be a burden to you more than it has to. Still, I know I am equally grateful for my own family of well-behaved sisters. I cannot imagine the ruin of one being the ruin of all.”
Frowning, she viewed Elizabeth, “Remember that family just north of Meryton; three sisters from a respectable family, until the eldest faced that scandal and ran off? Those two who remained at home were all but shunned, though they had done no wrong. A sad thing, that was, that the hopes of all were dashed. Only the younger has since married–to a farmer in Scotland. I fear the other might not be as fortunate, though she ought to have been. Her young man should have stood by her.”
“That he should have,” Elizabeth agreed, her sister’s face turned down to the path and the snow. “I find such unsteadiness of character difficult to pardon. For months he courted her, then when the scandal surrounding her sister became public knowledge, he fled to London one night–much as a thief–with no word even left.”
Breath pooling in the air around him, Mr. Bingley let out a near growl. “Gentlemen like that–if they can even be called gentlemen–are a disgrace. To raise the hopes of a young woman, then to dash them for any reason other than infidelity or some dark design on her part… well, it is insupportable. Nay, unfeeling, for duty and honour bind them. Were such a thing to happen, even to my sister, I do not know quite what I would do. What say you, Darcy?”
Lifting her chin to observe him, Elizabeth’s heart leapt at what she saw.Outrage. A bit of fire within his eyes. Yes. Her belief in his being a man of true honour and consistency continued to prove valid.
