“This is a surprise,” Bingley declared, grinning. “I half-expected you to be buried under a pile of papers at the Home Office for the rest of your days. What are you doing back here so soon?”
Darcy forced a half-smile, already anticipating the answer Bingley would accept. “I was needed in Town for obvious reasons,” he said. “But my business there is concluded for now.”
Bingley nodded knowingly. “Understandable, my friend, quite understandable,” Bingley said, leading him toward the drawing room. “A sad business, that, poor devil. But I must say, your timing is impeccable! There is to be a garden party at Lucas Lodge tomorrow. You have arrived just in time!”
Darcy groaned. A garden party?
He had spent most of his adult life perfecting the art of avoiding such things. He could almost hear the tedious small talk, see the aimless wandering, smell the over-sweet lemonade served in delicate porcelain cups.
And yet… Wait a minute.
He lifted his chin slightly. “A garden party?”
Bingley grinned. “Indeed! I have just been persuading my sisters to go. I had nearly convinced Louisa, but Caroline is quite against it. Says such parties bring about her sneezing fits.”
Darcy’s toes wriggled with inspiration inside his boots. Did that mean Caroline Bingley might not be a complication? Better and better.
He kept his expression neutral. “And the entire neighborhood will be in attendance?” he asked carefully.
Bingley tilted his head, thinking. “I suppose so. The Bennets, certainly, and the Gouldings, and—”
Darcy stopped listening.The Bennets.Hearing their name confirmed what he had hoped. Elizabeth would be there.
His temporary ward. His responsibility.
Darcy exhaled. “Then I shall attend.”
Bingley looked delighted. “Excellent! I knew you could not hide away forever. Go and refresh yourself before dinner. You look half-dead, man.”
Darcy was too weary to argue. With a nod, he excused himself.
Tomorrow, he would see exactly how well Lady Elizabeth Montclair was settling into her new life as ‘Elizabeth Bennet’.
He doubted very much that she had taken to it quietly.
Elizabethhadneverexperiencedanything quite like a Bennet family dinner.
It was loud, lively, and utterly chaotic—an entirely different affair from the structured, civilized conversations of her father’s London table. No fine crystal or gilded place settings, no footmen silently refilling wine glasses, no painstakingly rehearsed discussions of Parliament and high society.
Instead, there was laughter, overlapping voices, the clatter of serving spoons and passing dishes, and—perhaps most astonishing of all—no one seemed terribly concerned with decorum.
Kitty and Lydia spoke over one another, jostling elbows as they debated the merits of an upcoming garden party.
“I already know it will be a dreadfully dull affair,” Lydia declared, scooping a generous portion of pudding onto her plate. “Captain Denny shall not be there.”
Kitty sighed. “Nor Mr. Chamberlayne.”
Elizabeth blinked. “And… who are they?”
Lydia waved a dismissive hand. “Officers.”
“Of the militia,” Kitty clarified. “They are stationed in Meryton, and they are terribly charming.”
“Well, most of them,” Lydia amended, chewing thoughtfully.
Elizabeth hesitated, uncertain of how to respond. Charming officers? Stationed in Meryton? Was this truly the sort of conversation that occupied the minds of young ladies here?
Across the table, Mrs. Bennet sighed wistfully. “Well, there will be some young gentlemen present, as well. Mr. Bingley, for one.”
