“I did, from Meryton,” Elizabeth said, her chin lifting slightly. “And I will gladly walk back to Longbourn, once I am satisfied that my sister is in good comforts.”
Before Darcy could respond, the door opened again, and Bingley entered, his usual cheerfulness lighting up the room. “Miss Elizabeth! How very good of you to come. I had sent an offer of a carriage, in case you or your mother wished to call on your sister, not half an hour ago”
Elizabeth turned to him with a warmer smile. “That was very kind of you sir, but as you see, I managed on my own. May I ask, how is my sister this morning?”
“Oh, quite comfortable, I assure you. Caroline only just informed me that Miss Bennet is sleeping rather soundly and ought not to be disturbed. I can have the maid inform her of your arrival.”
“I would rather look in on her myself,” Elizabeth replied. “I need not rouse her if she is sleeping.”
Darcy’s expression tightened, but Bingley only looked as easy and pliable as ever. “Of course, of course. Allow me to escort you.”
Elizabeth entered Jane’s room to find her sister propped up in bed, her cheeks flushed with fever but her smile warm. And not sleeping, as had been reported.
“Lizzy,” Jane said softly. “You should not have come in this weather.”
Elizabeth sat beside her, taking her hand. “And leave you to be the subject of the town’s wagers without learning how you truly are? Never.”
Jane frowned. “Wagers?”
Elizabeth squeezed her hand gently. “It does not matter. I am here now, and I will not leave until I am certain you are well.”
“You will stay?” Jane asked. And then she coughed.
“For now, at least,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Let them try to send me away.”
The crack of abilliard ball echoed through the dimly lit room as Darcy lined up his next shot. He adjusted his grip on the cue stick, his movements deliberate and controlled. Focus, precision, restraint—these were the virtues that steadied him, that kept the storm inside at bay.
But this afternoon, even billiards could not distract him.
He drew back the cue and sent the ball spinning across the table, pocketing a red with a sharp clink. It should have been satisfying, but it was not. Not when the very house felt as though it were conspiring against his peace. He had spent the better part of the day avoiding the drawing room, the halls, even the dining room, lest he accidentally cross paths withher.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Every time he was near her, he could feel his resolve unraveling. The sharp wit, the glint of challenge in her eyes—she was far too clever, far too perceptive. If he were not careful, she might notice the way his gaze lingered too long, or the way his carefully measured words seemed to fail him when she spoke. And if she noticed, others would, too. Then what?
He tightened his grip on the cue. This would all pass soon enough. Elizabeth Bennet would return to Longbourn once she had been satisfied that her sister was well looked after, and he could return to his life of orderly solitude.
“Darcy! There you are,” came Bingley’s cheerful voice as the door swung open. Darcy froze mid-motion, his carefully maintained calm splintering at the intrusion.
“I assumed you’d taken to hiding,” Bingley said, strolling in with the air of a man who had not a care in the world. He crossed to the table and began racking the balls for a new game. “It seems you’ve made a habit of disappearing these days.”
Darcy straightened, forcing his expression into neutrality. “I prefer quiet. You know that.”
“Too much ‘quiet’ can be the death of a man,” Bingley said with a grin, setting the cue ball into position. “And I daresay Miss Elizabeth would agree with me.”
Darcy’s fingers twitched against the cue stick. “I do not know why I should care what Miss Elizabeth thinks on the matter.” Hewatched as Bingley took his first shot, scattering the balls with a practiced ease that set his teeth on edge.
“Ah, and speaking of Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley continued, his tone almost too casual, “I have ordered that her belongings be sent for.”
Darcy blinked, the words striking him like a physical blow. “Sent for?”
Bingley nodded, leaning on the cue stick. “Indeed. She will be remaining here until her sister is fully recovered.”
Darcy’s stomach sank. His carefully constructed plans for avoidance crumbled in an instant. “She... she is staying?”
Bingley straightened, tilting his head as he regarded Darcy with faint amusement. “Why do you sound as though you fear a ghost? Surely you are not afraid of Miss Elizabeth?”
“Of course not,” Darcy snapped, though the sharpness in his voice betrayed him. He turned away, pretending to adjust the position of a ball on the table.
