Jane’s mouth parted slightly, then snapped shut. A moment later, she forced a light laugh, dabbing at her fingertip with a lace handkerchief. “It is a funny thing that you should call himmyMr. Bingley,“ she said, too carefully, too deliberately. “We have no particular acquaintance. I believe Papa knows him better than any of the rest of us.”
Elizabeth’s eyes gleamed, but she smoothed her expression. “I misspoke,” she amended swiftly. “I meant—your neighbor.”
Jane’s lips pressed together, and though she nodded, something in her posture remained stiff. “Yes,” she murmured. “Our neighbor.”
Elizabeth turned her gaze back to the drive, humming thoughtfully.
How very, very interesting, indeed.
Theplanwassimple.
Or at least, itshouldhave been.
Darcy had orchestrated this visit with a perfect scheme in mind—convinced Bingley that a call upon the Bennets was due, persuaded him that a walk would be the most amiable of country neighborly gestures, and ensured that Elizabeth would be among those in attendance. It had all been done with the utmost subtlety, of course.
And yet, as they stood in the bright summer sunlight, watching the Bennet sisters retrieve their bonnets and gloves, Darcy had the distinct sense that he had once again miscalculated something.
He could feel it the moment Elizabeth adjusted her hat, a slow, deliberate motion as she glanced down the path. There was nothing remarkable in her posture, nothing obvious in her tone. And yet, something in the air shifted.
“Oh, look at the path ahead,” she remarked lightly, barely glancing toward it. “With all the rain last week, I daresay there will be mud in places.”
Darcy narrowed his eyes. What the devil was she about?
It was nothing—just an idle remark. And yet, there was something—
“Oh! I shall go ahead and see if it is dreadful,” Lydia declared at once, snatching Kitty’s arm before anyone could intervene.
“What—? Lydia, wait—” Kitty stumbled after her, protesting faintly but making no real effort to resist. Their voices trailed off, skirts rustling as they hurried ahead.
Darcy sighed, looking after the dismissed sisters. She made that look too easy. Dash it all, how had he never thought of such a devilish clever means of getting rid of them?
“I suppose,” Elizabeth went on, “should the path prove troublesome, it is a fine thing that we have steady escorts.”
Darcy turned his head sharply. Apparently, she had not yet done.
Bingley straightened slightly, as if only just realizing the merit of the suggestion. “Quite right! Ladies ought to have proper support on uneven ground.”
Elizabeth dusted off her skirts with deliberate ease. “Indeed. A gentleman’s arm would be most welcome, particularly if the path is treacherous.”
Jane Bennet, who had been silent until now, went still, with great round eyes.
Darcy noted the shift—small, but unmistakable. A breath held, a glance flickered, a moment’s delay.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, adjusted her glove, deliberately avoiding any chance that Bingley’s gaze might blunder into hers. Oh, she was good.
Bingley hesitated for only a second before turning to Jane with an easy smile. “But of course! Miss Bennet, if you would allow me the honor?”
A pause.
Jane Bennet’s lips parted, as though a protest was forming—but she swallowed it.
“I… suppose I would not object to the company.”
Bingley brightened. “Splendid!”
Darcy kept his expression neutral, but his patience wore thin. Elizabeth merely smoothed her sleeve, not looking at him, not looking at anyone in particular.
And yet, she had done exactly what she meant to do. Without a single misstep.
