Elizabeth turned a withering look on her sisters. “You two would do well to tend to your own work. My thoughts are my own.”
But Lydia was not so easily deterred. “Oh, I know what your thoughts are. You are pining for Mr. Darcy, of course! But he was here earlier and did not ask to see you.”
Elizabeth’s head snapped up at Lydia’s words, her composure faltering. “Mr. Darcy was here?” she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
Lydia smirked, pleased by Elizabeth’s reaction. “Oh, yes. He arrived while we were in Meryton to visit Aunt Phillips. He went straight into Papa’s book room and stayed for half an hour.” She leaned closer, her expression mischievous. “What do you think they were talking about?”
Elizabeth’s heart quickened, though she struggled to maintain her outward calm. “I think it is none of our concern, Lydia.”
“Oh, but a gentleman like Mr. Darcy, coming to call without so much as a word to anyone else. It must have been something very important!” Kitty added, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Who told you, Lydia?”
“Sarah mentioned it, and of course I could not rest until I knew all.”
Mary, who had remained quietly observing, set her book down and looked directly at Elizabeth. “If Mr. Darcy spoke with Papa, it was likely a private matter. Speculation will only make you appear foolish, Lydia, and you too, Kitty.”
Elizabeth gave her middle sister a grateful glance, though her thoughts were racing. Why had no one told her that Mr. Darcy had been here? Had it something to do with her behaviour during his illness, and if so, what would Papa have said?
“Perhaps he was asking Papa for his permission to marry you,” Kitty said with a happy sigh.
“What a fine joke, to ask Papa before Lizzy,” Lydia replied. “I should not like that at all. The man I marry will be so in love with me that he will throw himself at my feet.”
“Hardly a sensible way to behave,” Mary muttered. “I cannot say such a man would make a very steady husband.”
“You are so boring, Mary,” Lydia chirruped.
Mary rolled her eyes.
“That is enough, Lydia,” Elizabeth remonstrated. “You ought to focus on your stitching before you ruin yet another hem.”
Lydia huffed but returned to her work, though not without muttering something under her breath about how dull Mr. Darcy was perfect for Elizabeth. Kitty giggled, but the room then fell into a relative quiet.
Before she could return to her own work, Mr. Hill appeared in the doorway, clearing his throat. “Miss Elizabeth, your father requests your presence.”
Elizabeth’s heart stuttered at the announcement. She rose, glancing at her sisters, who were now watching her with open curiosity. “Thank you, Mr. Hill.”
She approached the book room with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. Her father’s formal summons was unusual. The conversation between him and Mr. Darcy must be the reason for it. She knocked softly before entering, finding her father seated at his desk, his expression unreadable.
“Ah, Elizabeth,” Mr. Bennet said, gesturing to a chair. “Come in, come in. I find myself in need of your opinion.”
Elizabeth took the chair opposite him, folding her hands in her lap. “Of course, Papa. What is it you wish to discuss?”
He regarded her for a moment, his sharp eyes studying her face. “Tell me, what do you think of Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth blinked, surprised by the question. “I think very highly of him, Papa. You know as much.”
“Yes, but I wish to hear it from you directly. What is it about Mr. Darcy that you find so admirable?”
Her cheeks warmed, but she answered earnestly. “He is intelligent. No, more than intelligent, he is clever. He cares deeply for his family and his responsibilities. He has shown himself capable of arrogance and irritation, but also growth and humility, and he treats me with great respect.” She paused. “Helistensto me, Papa. He takes me seriously.”
“And he is handsome.”
She shook her head at her father. “That is easy to see, but it is not why I love him.”
He smiled and wagged his eyebrows at her. “It does not hurt.”
She sighed impatiently. “No, it does not hurt.”
Papa smiled but then grew sombre. “Now that I have had my fun, I would like for you to think very seriously for a moment. Will you do that for me?”
