But Elizabeth, Darcy noticed, had gone very still.
She stood in the hallway, looking about, but there wasn’t much left to do. Her smile, which had been constant throughout the farewells, had transformed into something more uncertain.
“Well,” she said to no one in particular. “That was . . .”
“Delightful,” Darcy supplied, and meant it. “Your family is better behaved than mine, and tonight was the proof.”
The Bennets’ enthusiasm had been unpolished, unscripted, and alive in a way that his own family gatherings had never managed. There had been no careful choreography of conversation, no strategic positioning around topics that might prove awkward. Just people who loved each other enough to be themselves without apology. Elizabeth belonged to this, was woven into its very fabric, and watching her move through it had made him long for more nights like it.
Before he could examine the feeling too closely, Jane appeared from the kitchen.
“Lizzy, we’ve got the worst of it sorted. Why don’t you and Darcy head off? The roads will only get worse.”
“Are you sure? I can help with hoovering—”
“Absolutely not. You’ve done quite enough. Besides”—Jane’s smile turned sly—“Charles is insisting on his very specific system for cleaning the house after a party. I’m not allowed to interfere, to which I say ‘have at it.’”
Elizabeth laughed at that, the sound warm and genuine, and Darcy could only gaze at her and hope that he hadn’t ruined anything.
"Well." Elizabeth turned back to him. “I suppose we should . . .”
“Actually,” Darcy said, the words coming out before he’d fully thought them through, “would you mind if we walked for a bit first? Before we drive back, I mean. It’s cold, so we won’t take long, but I’d like to stretch my legs a bit before getting back in the car. And the dogs need it, too.”
He winced the second the words left his lips.
Thedogs? This was not the way to be straightforward about his intentions.
He held his breath for a moment, wondering if he’d miscalculated. The request felt significant in a way that asking someone to take a walk probably shouldn’t. But Elizabeth just nodded.
“I’d like that,” she responded. “I’m glad you asked.”
As they collected their coats, leashed up the dogs, and said final goodbyes to Jane and Charles, Darcy touched his new scarf. It made him want things, to be worthy of the time she’d spent learning something new just for him, to stop calculating every gesture, worried it would be too much, to tell her how he felt, to match her openness with his own.
She handed him Athena’s leash. Waffles, for once subdued, having been awakened from a toasty nap, leaned against her legs and yawned.
“Ready?” she asked.
Darcy certainly hoped so.
Elizabeth had approximately thirty seconds to decide whether she was going through with this conversation before they reached the end of Charles and Jane’s drive, and frankly, thirty seconds wasn’t enough time to prepare for what might be the most relationship-defining discussion of her adult life.
The snow was falling more heavily now, fat flakes that caught in her eyelashes and made everything look like a Christmas card. Under different circumstances, she might have found it romantic, walking through the quiet neighbourhood with Darcy, both dogs trotting companionably alongside, the whole world muffled and peaceful around them.
Instead, she felt like she might throw up.
“Wonderful evening.” Darcy seemed determined to fill the silence. “Your sisters were in excellent form.”
“Mm,” Elizabeth managed, because discussing Lydia’s dinner table antics seemed like rather a detour from the conversation she needed to have. “They like you.”
“Do they? I wasn’t certain. Mary seemed to be taking notes at one point.”
“Mary takes notes on everything. I think she’s writing a sociological study of relational dynamics at Christmas dinners.”
Darcy’s laugh was warm in the cold air. “I’m not sure I want to know what her conclusions were.”
Elizabeth glanced sideways at him. He looked relaxed, more at ease than he’d seemed all evening. The careful tension in his posture that had been on and off all day was gone, replaced by something looser, more natural. It made what she was about to do feel even more awful.
Waffles chose that moment to become fascinated by a particularly interesting lamp post, which meant they had to stop while he conducted what appeared to be a detailed forensic investigation of its base. Athena waited, well-behaved as always, though Elizabeth caught her shooting Waffles a look that signaled she was considering joining him.
