“That was a casual thing by mutual agreement—”
“That lasted eight months and ended when she moved in with the aromatherapist,” Darcy said.
Malcolm glared at him. “Whose side are you on?”
“The side of truth,” Darcy replied. “You’re in no position to advise a man who might not want to be a bachelor anymore.”
“Might not want to—” Richard sat up. “Are we talking about serious intentions here?”
Darcy felt heat rise up his neck. He wasn’t going to admit anything to these idiots. “We’re talking hypothetically.”
“Hypothetically,” Malcolm echoed.
“About a man who might hypothetically not want to remain single,” Charles added, grinning.
“This hypothetical man,” Richard said, “would he be considering hypothetical future commitments?”
“He might not be ruling them out,” Darcy was much further gone than that, but his cousins didn’t need to know it.
“Well.” Malcolm leaned forward. “That’srather different, isn’t it?”
The room fell into a surprisingly comfortable silence. The fire crackled, and somewhere in the distance, they could hear the women’s laughter.
“For what it’s worth,” Richard said, “shedidknit you a scarf.”
“You’ve mentioned,” Darcy replied.
“I’m just saying, knitting takes time. Intention. It’s not something you do casually.”
Malcolm nodded. “Blunt instrument of devotion.”
Richard leaned forward, alert. “Hang on. What did you giveher?”
Darcy felt the dread begin to coil in his stomach. “Headphones.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
“Headphones,” Malcolm repeated.
“They’re excellent headphones.” Even as he spoke the words it, Darcy hated how they sounded. “Noise-cancelling. Top of the range.”
“Noise-cancelling,” Richard repeated, a bit sceptical. “I thought you just said you might want her to stick around?”
Malcolm's tone was wry. “Well, it’s practical. Nothing says affection quite like the ability to block someone’s voice out.”
“They’re not for blocking people out,” Darcy protested. “They’re for her work. She mentioned her flat being noisy—”
“I see. She wrote you a poem, and you gave her a very nice dictionary,” Richard said.
“That’s not what it was,” Darcy protested.
“Both useful,” Malcolm explained, “but they don’t speak quite the same language.”
“Sorry, Darcy,” Bingley said. “I know I endorsed the headphones, but I think you may have advised me better than I did you.” He shrugged. “I knew she and Jane were talking about knitting, but I didn’t know it was so she could make something for you.”
He had been so careful, so determined not to presume anything. Elizabeth was always straightforward and honest about her feelings. She never hedged or hinted or played games. And what had he done? He’d bought her something safe and practical and devoid of sentiment.
“The thing is . . .” Charles paused before continuing. “A hand-knitted scarf says ‘I want to keep you warm.’ It says ‘I think about you when you’re not here.’”
