Home.
His house, his study, his ledgers, his responsibilities—all exactly as they had been before Elizabeth Bennet turned his world on its axis. The thought of returning to it—alone—felt intolerable.
And that, more than anything… terrified him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Elizabeth sat by theparlor window, a book open on her lap, though she had not turned the page in half an hour. Outside, the golden hues of autumn had begun to settle over the countryside, the leaves whispering against the glass as the wind stirred them along the drive. Jane sat across from her, embroidering something Elizabeth had not even bothered to identify, and Kitty and Lydia had taken to giggling over some new nonsense, but Elizabeth barely registered the sound.
“Lizzy, are you quite well?” her mother asked suddenly.
Elizabeth startled, looking up. Mrs. Bennet peered at her from over her teacup, her brow furrowed in something between concern and exasperation. “What, Mama?”
“You are so dull since returning home. You ought to be quite the opposite after all your London adventures. Why, you have hardly spoken of any of it!”
“I am perfectly well, Mama,” Elizabeth said with a practiced smile.
“You do not look perfectly well,” her mother declared. “You have not once inquired about the gentleman who is to lease Netherfield. You used to take some interest in new neighbors.”
“Yes, Lizzy,” Lydia added, grinning, “what if he is handsome?”
“Better than old, fat Mr. Collins,” Kitty sighed. “Papa saysheis to come next week.”
“You do not know he is fat,” protested Mary. “And he is only five and twenty. Hardly old.”
“But still dull,” Lydia decided. “Ishall savemylace for the militia.”
“Not Mr. Bingley?” Kitty asked. “They say he has five thousand a year!”
Elizabeth merely shook her head and returned her gaze to the window. It was Jane who steered the conversation away, murmuring something about how it was all only gossip for now, until this mysterious Bingley gentleman actually arrived in town with the four gentlemen and seven ladies he was rumored to be bringing. Her mother and younger sisters fell easily into speculation, but Elizabeth let their voices fade into background noise.
Only when her father entered did she lift her head.
Mr. Bennet strolled in, a folded broadsheet tucked under his arm. He met Elizabeth’s eyes briefly before seating himself in his chair by the fire. Then, with deliberate patience, he unfolded the paper and smoothed it over his knee.
Elizabeth sat up straighter.
Across the room, Jane glanced at her.
Mr. Bennet cleared his throat and peered over the broadsheet. “I do believe, Lizzy, that you are the only one in this household who cares for the latest word on political matters.”
The words sent a jolt through her, though she willed herself not to react. “It is not every year Parliament is dissolved and an election is called. Have… the separate counties determined their seats?” she asked, hoping she sounded either ignorant or detached enough to fool at least some of her family.
Her father’s eyes narrowed faintly, and he flipped the paper to skim the page. “Nothing final, but there is talk. The polling closed two days ago, of course, but the numbers have not yet reached London in full. Hertfordshire went for Morris again, I should think, but there are other, far moreinterestingcontests yet to be decided.”
Mrs. Bennet sniffed. “And what interest is that to us?”
Mr. Bennet arched a brow. “Why, my dear, have you not heard? It is all the talk from London—an upstart challenger to a venerable old seat, and a scandal, besides! I assumed all of Meryton would be breathless to know whether Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire has defeated his opponent.”
A silence settled in the room.
Then, Lydia—oblivious and, clearly, forgetful as ever—laughed. “Why should we care for some old politician?”
Elizabeth forced herself to release her skirts, to appear unaffected. “Indeed,” she murmured. “Why should we?”
Her father’s gaze flickered to her, but he said nothing.
The conversation shifted again—Netherfield, Papa’s cousin, the militia’s rumored winter encampment in Meryton—but Elizabeth heard none of it. The only thing that mattered…
