No competition, indeed. Did Darcy have any idea of how many more of Meryton’s single female population were, even now, rushing home to grab their skates? And all forhisbenefit, of course. Bingley was charming, but it was Darcy who seemed to draw the eye of every lady within five miles, whether he liked it or not.
Elizabeth tilted her head, observing him more carefully. There was no showmanship in his actions, no effort to draw attention to himself. Yet he managed, with his quiet confidence, to set others at ease. It was a skill she might not have credited him with until now.
Beside her, Jane leaned closer. “Mr. Darcy has surprised me,” she said softly. “I had not expected him to seem so… forward and inviting.”
“Come, Jane, you know as well as I do that it is all an act to benefit Sir Thomas’s cause. He has said plainly enough before that he dislikes attention.”
“But to pull it off so convincingly—why, he almost has me convinced that he is in his natural element. Indeed, I couldalmostbe persuaded that he is naturally a nice man.”
“He is not exactly a brute,” Elizabeth admitted, her lips curving slightly. “But you are right, about one thing. It seems there is more to him than I imagined.”
Bingley skated over just then, beaming as he clapped his gloves together. “Well, this is turning into quite the success, is it not? Miss Bennet, you have been standing here far too long. Come, you must warm up by moving about. I should be honored to escort you, if you would allow me.”
Jane’s cheeks pinked prettily, and she nodded. “I would be delighted, Mr. Bingley.”
Elizabeth watched as the two made their way to the center of the ice. As she turned back toward the crowd, she caught sight of Darcy once more, his gaze sweeping the pond until it briefly met hers. Something flickered in his expression—something that felt sorightand familiar that she could hardly credit the fact that they had known each other less than a week. Elizabeth felt a strange, bubbly warmth rise in her chest before she looked away.
The barriers between the townsfolk and the residents of Netherfield were softening, if not dissolving entirely. Elizabeth could hear snippets of conversation now—Meryton mothers complimenting the gentlemen from Netherfield on their skating, children calling out to one another as they formed impromptu races. It was, she realized, precisely what Darcy and Bingley had hoped for: a moment of unity, small but significant.
Elizabeth’s heart stirred at the sight. For all his aloofness and reserve, Darcy’s actions spoke volumes. Perhaps he was not so inscrutable after all.
“Lizzy,” Jane said quietly, skating up beside her. “Do you see what they are doing?”
Elizabeth followed her sister’s gaze to where Darcy stood, now gesturing toward a small evergreen that someone had decorated with ribbons. And giving his hand to Mr. Jackson as he escorted his wife onto the ice.
She smiled faintly. “Creating a scene no one in Meryton will want to miss, I imagine.”
“Do you suppose it will work?”
Elizabeth hesitated, her gaze returning to Darcy. “It already has.”
As they returned toNetherfield, the group was met with a lively scene in the entrance hall. Mrs. Bennet, her bonnet adorned with a jaunty sprig of holly, stood in the middle of the ballroom, directing activity with the fervor of a battlefield commander. The beds which had been formerly set along the walls for an infirmary had been temporarily moved to the western wing halls. A handful of footmen carried bundles of greenery and boxes filled with decorations, while Roberts stood stoically nearby, a small notebook in his hand.
“Lizzy! Jane!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, waving them over with a gloved hand. “Come here this instant! I was just telling Mr. Roberts that we simplymusthave more ribbons—green and gold, I think, though perhaps a touch of crimson would do nicely for the garlands. What say you?”
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Jane, who bit back a smile and replied with an appeasing tone. “I am sure whatever you choose will be lovely, Mama.”
“Of course it will,” Mrs. Bennet said, bustling forward to inspect a bolt of fabric in Roberts’s hands. She turned suddenly, her eyes alighting on Mr. Darcy, who had just handed his coat off at the door. “Oh, Mr. Darcy! What a magnificent idea this party is! You are a credit to your sex, truly.”
Elizabeth resisted the urge to groan as Mr. Darcy inclined his head with his usual composure. “You are too kind, Mrs. Bennet.”
“Not at all, sir, not at all!” Mrs. Bennet continued, clasping her hands together. “Why, I daresay everyone in the neighborhood will be talking of nothing else all winter. Such generosity, such ingenuity—it is almost too much!”
Elizabeth leaned slightly toward Jane, her voice low. “Too much by half, you mean.”
Jane’s lips curved, but she said nothing. Darcy, however, turned his head just slightly, his expression flat but his eyes flicking toward her. Elizabeth’s cheeks burned. Had he heard her? If so, he gave no sign, his attention returning to Roberts, who was now consulting his notebook.
From across the room, her father’s voice cut through the chatter. “Really, my dear, if Mr. Darcy is so adept at party planning, perhaps we should recruit him to manage all our family affairs. What do you think, Sir Thomas?”
Sir Thomas, seated in a chair near the hearth, chuckled softly. “I believe Mr. Darcy has quite enough on his plate without taking on the Bennet household, though I am certain he would manage admirably.”
Bingley strode in then, his face flushed with cold and good cheer. “Ah, Darcy, good, our little venture into Meryton was a resounding success, was it not?”
Darcy gave a small nod. “Indeed. We have confirmed our orders with all the merchants, the payment arrangements are all settled, and I believe we made an impression on more than a few of the shopkeepers.”
“More than a few?” Bingley grinned. “Why, they were practically falling over themselves to see that we had the finest wares. One would think we had single-handedly saved their businesses.”
Elizabeth folded her arms, tilting her head with interest. “And here I thought Mr. Bingley was speaking oftoday’s‘venture’. I rather thought that bore the earmarks of success as well. What of you, Mr. Darcy?”
