She shook her head. “That would hardly silence a curious neighbor—or my mother.”
“I cannot speak for your neighbors, but I would hope Mrs. Bennet might find some satisfaction in knowing her daughters have lent their assistance to a worthy cause.”
Elizabeth gave him a sidelong glance, her expression teetering between amusement and disbelief. “You are an optimist, Mr. Darcy.”
“Rarely. But I suppose one must allow for exceptions.”
Their conversation was interrupted as the coachman entered the drawing room to announce that the carriage would soon be ready. Miss Bennet rose from her seat near the window, smoothing her skirts, and Mr. Bingley immediately moved to her side, murmuring something that made her smile.
Elizabeth reached for her shawl, feeling a mix of relief and something less easily named. Darcy, who had remained at her side, watched her for a moment before speaking again.
“Miss Elizabeth, might I hope to see you again soon? To help in planning the party, of course.”
Her gaze flickered to him, a touch of warmth breaking through her guarded expression. “I expect you shall.”
Darcy inclined his head. “Safe travels, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said, dipping into a slight curtsy before moving to join her sister.
Darcy’s eyes lingered on her retreating figure, the warmth of the fire paling in comparison to the presence of the woman who had so thoroughly unsettled him. The day’s tasks called for his attention, yet he found himself reluctant to let the moment slip away entirely.
Sixteen
The Bennet carriage rolledinto the Longbourn drive just as the weak winter sunlight broke through the clouds, gilding the frost-dappled hedgerows and glittering across the windows of the house. Elizabeth felt an odd mixture of relief and regret as the familiar sight came into view. Home, at last—but she could not help casting one last glance back toward the road as though Netherfield might linger just beyond the horizon.
Inside, they were greeted by a flurry of activity. Lydia and Kitty dashed into the hall, barely pausing to give their father a polite nod before peppering Jane and Elizabeth with questions.
“Oh, Jane, you must tell us everything!” Lydia exclaimed, her cheeks pink with curiosity. “Mama has been in a state ever since Hill said you spent the night. Everyone says it is the greatest scandal!”
Kitty was clutching at her sister’s arm. “We heard Mrs. Long tell the butcher that you must have been kept against your will. Is it true?”
Elizabeth raised a brow, brushing snowflakes from her shawl. “Kept against our will? How thrilling. Were there also accounts of gallant rescues and daring escapes, or have you left those out for dramatic effect?”
Jane stepped in quickly. “Now, now, you must not believe everything you hear. The snowstorm made the roads impassable, that is all. Sir Thomas was kind enough to offer us shelter.”
Lydia’s expression darkened. “But Mama said—”
“Mrs. Bennet,” Mr. Bennet interrupted from the doorway, “would do well to remember that discretion is the better part of wisdom. Come, my dear daughters, before your mother descends with tales of captivity and ruin. Let us all go to the drawing room and sit by the fire like civilized people.”
The party moved toward the drawing room, where Hill had already laid out tea. Mrs. Bennet’s voice floated down from upstairs, calling for Hill with increasing urgency. Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Jane, who smiled faintly but said nothing. It was only a matter of time before their mother joined them, full of questions and complaints. Seated by the fire, Elizabeth stirred her tea absently, her mind wandering. The warmth of the library at Netherfield still lingered in her thoughts, along with…him.
She had scarcely finished her first sip when Jane leaned closer, her voice low. “Lizzy, do you suppose we ought to let Mama help with the Christmas party?”
Elizabeth blinked, startled out of her reverie. “Mama? We are bracing for her histrionics even now. Why on earth would we invite her to meddle further?”
“Because we will need her help.”
“Help?” Elizabeth arched a brow. “Jane, I doubt Sir Thomas would survive an hour of Mama’s ‘help’.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane replied, shaking her head with a soft laugh. “You are being unfair. Mama is very good at certain things.”
“Certain things like matchmaking and gossip?”
“Certain things like planning grand affairs,” Jane corrected. “And you know it. If we mean to make this Christmas party a success, we must draw on every available resource. Mama included.”
Elizabeth sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Youarerelentless.”
“I am practical. You know she will agree, especially if we present the idea just so. Mention the officers. Lydia and Kitty will clamor for it. Mama will be won over before she even realizes what she is agreeing to, and once we have Mama, we have Aunt Philips, Mrs. Long,andLady Lucas.”
