“I doubt anyone could accuse either of you of dullness,” I muttered, casting a glance toward the front door.
Before I could find an excuse to escape, Mama’s voice rang out from the sitting room. “Lydia, Kitty! You mustn’t go without your new bonnets. Only wait a moment until I have finished this ribbon.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Oh, nonsense, Mama! The officers adore us with or without our bonnets. We could have any of them wrapped around our fingers if we tried!”
“You’re delusional,” I said dryly, earning a playful shove from Lydia.
“You’re just jealous because Mr. Wickham has eyes for me,” she teased. “Oh, he was so handsome yesterday, wasn’t he, Kitty?”
I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Mr. Wickham. He certainly seemed gentlemanly enough, but there was no way he would indulge my sisters honorably. They could not conceivethat a man, even a handsome man, must have something to live on as well, and they had nothing that might attract him besides themselves. Hardly a prospect I wished to see them entertain, but not one I could utter aloud in this house. I’d sound as mad as... well, as Mr. Darcy.
And that was a problem I wasn’t ready to face.
Still, the idea of Darcy lingered in my mind as Lydia chattered on. His confession had been... unsettling, to say the least. I could hardly make sense of it all myself, and yet there was something in the way he’d spoken, in his quiet desperation, that made me want to believe him. If it was a lie, it was a deeply convincing one.
But what if it wasn’t?
The floating glass. All those times I had seen Mr. Darcy looking like something had shoved him, tripped him, dragged him... And Mr. Darcy himself—a man I had first thought only proud and arrogant—seemed genuinely haunted and entirely earnest.
I shook the thought away. I didn’t have time to dwell on Mr. Darcy’s plight. At least, not right now. Lydia was tugging on my sleeve.
“Come on, Lizzy! You’ll come with us, won’t you? You never know what fun we might have!”
“Fun,” I echoed. “Is that what you call it?”
“Of course!” Kitty chimed in. “Besides, there are more than enough officers to go around. We need someone to keep them all entertained.”
“Well, I can assure you I’m not volunteering for that particular task.”
Lydia grinned. “Oh, but you’ll come anyway.”
And with a sigh, I allowed myself to be pulled into the fray, all while wondering how on earth I was supposed to balance this absurd mystery with my equally absurd family.
But then again, what else was new?
Darcy
Aknock at thedoor.
I turned just in time to see Bingley step inside, his usually bright expression tempered by a touch of concern.
“Darcy, I—well, I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said, hesitating a little at the door. “You’ve been quite... preoccupied these past days. I haven’t seen you for dinner, and we missed you at shooting yesterday.”
I blinked, caught off guard. How many days had it been? I’d been so buried in papers, sending letters, scouring through what little information I had, that I’d nearly forgot the world around me. “Yes, I’ve... had much to attend to,” I muttered, feeling a wave of guilt.
“You have,” Bingley agreed, his brows drawing together. “I don’t mean to intrude. Only, Colonel Forster has been asking about you—wondering when we might call on him.”
“Forster…” My heart swirled in dread. I’d managed to avoid any face-to-face encounters with the colonel during the ball, and my last brush with him in town had been… somewhat less than dignified. “Why… er… would Colonel Forster be asking about me?”
Bingley came all the way into the room, wandering toward the mantel with his hands clasped behind his back. “Oh! Nothing particular. But any good militia colonel would like to know all the principal gentlemen of the neighborhood—it helps him to keep the peace, of course.”
“Well, I am not the master of any of the local estates.”
“Come, Darcy, you know perfectly well what I mean! Forster is in town today, and I thought it might be a good chance for us to mend fences after... well... last time.”
Last time. When Ewan had made a spectacle of me in front of the entire square.
I resisted the urge to groan. “Must we?” I asked, rubbing the back of my neck. “I doubt Colonel Forster is waiting with bated breath for another encounter.”
