“They laugh together,” Elizabeth said with a small smile. “More than once, they have whispered secrets and giggled behind their hands. I believe it may grow into a true friendship.”
His expression softened further. “That is more than I had hoped.”
She allowed a small smile. “And she has not thrown a single object in three days.”
He gave a quiet huff of laughter, and the corner of his mouth twitched. The tension between them did not dissolve, but shifted into something gentler. Warmer.
The moment was interrupted suddenly when Miss Bingley called sharply, “Miss Darcy, do come here, my dear. I have something I wish to show you.”
Georgiana went at once, and Elizabeth had the sudden impression that her presence had been intentionally arranged.
Darcy took a half-step closer. “May I… might I have the first dance at the ball?”
Elizabeth met his gaze, her breath catching. “Yes,” she said simply.
He exhaled, and in that moment, she saw how tightly he had been holding himself.
“And,” he said, more hesitantly now, “would it be too much to request the supper dance as well?”
She paused.
His countenance fell ever so slightly—not in disappointment, but in quiet understanding. “Forgive me. I did not mean to press. I should not have asked.”
“No,” she said quickly. “I… I am only thinking. It is not that I do not—” She faltered, then composed herself. “It would signify more than a mere dance. That is all. I do not yet know if I am ready to make such a declaration.”
He inclined his head solemnly. “Of course. It is entirely your choice. I only ask that—should you find yourself inclined—I will wait to see if my name appears on your card that evening. If not, I shall not mention it again.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice hushed.
Her chest ached. How could it feel like they had said so much and yet not enough?
It was Miss Bingley who shattered the quiet with a pointed sniff. “Gracious, how long we have stayed! It must be well beyond what is considered proper.”
Mrs. Bennet glanced at the clock in confusion. “It has not yet been a quarter of an hour.”
Miss Bingley offered her a smile that did not reach her eyes. “All the same.”
“We would not wish to risk impropriety,” Mrs. Hurst added archly.
Mrs. Bennet rushed forward, flustered and eager. “Oh, but I do hope you will remain a little longer. I had such hopes of discussing your lovely gown, Miss Bingley—”
Miss Bingley offered a thin-lipped smile. “Another time, perhaps.”
With cold curtsies and murmured goodbyes, the sisters swept from the room, Bingley apologizing with his eyes. Darcy bowed to Elizabeth once more. His eyes lingered on hers with a quiet intensity that made it hard to breathe. She felt his gaze even after the door shut behind them.
Elizabeth stood, hands folded, heart aching.
I love him.
The realization struck her more fully than before. She loved him—with all his faults, with all his pride and strength and sorrow.
But is love enough?
∞∞∞
The following morning brought some the officers to Longbourn for a formal call. Georgiana and Lydia were above stairs, occupied with lessons and quite unaware of the social stir below.Mr. Bennet, after greeting them, looked to his wife for direction. She gave him a nod, and he promptly disappeared into his library, leaving the drawing room to the ladies and their callers.
Jane, lovely as ever, was as composed as she was indifferent. Elizabeth knew her sister harbored no special interest in red coats or flirtation, and she did her best to engage their guests with grace, but her attention soon drifted. It left the younger men undeterred; Kitty’s eyes sparkled as she teased one and blushed at another, and the two officers who had gravitated toward her became increasingly animated in their efforts to win her laughter.
