One man pursued attention. The other watched for opportunities.
Elizabeth was not certain which disconcerted her more. She paused just beyond the doorway long enough to gather her composure before reentering the room.
Conversation continued smoothly within. Mary had abandoned the pianoforte in favor of discussing moral philosophy with Mr. Hurst, who appeared increasingly alarmed by the direction of the exchange. Kitty and Lydia whispered together over a book of fashion plates Miss Bingley had produced with visible reluctance. Jane sat near the fire with Mr. Bingley beside her, both wearing expressions so openly pleased that Elizabeth suspected neither retained the slightest awareness of anyone else in the room.
Mr. Wilson noticed her without delay. His entire expression brightened with such transparent eagerness that Elizabeth nearly retreated again on instinct alone.
“There you are, Miss Elizabeth. We feared you lost.”
“We?”
Mr. Wilson boomed heartily. “Well—I feared it, certainly.”
Darcy, seated several feet away near Mrs. Bennet, lifted his glass to his lips, though not before Elizabeth caught what appeared suspiciously like amusement in his expression.
Elizabeth became suddenly determined not to sit beside either gentleman.
She crossed instead toward Mrs. Hurst and showed her the ribbon, asking her opinion on the length before telling her it would perfectly suit a bonnet she had seen the lady wearing. Mrs. Hurst thanked her for the compliment and accepted the ribbon gracefully. This saved her from Mr. Wilson for a few minutes.
Next, she moved to Mary’s side. She was engaged in conversation with Mr. Bennet.
“Are you discussing philosophy again?” Elizabeth asked.
Mary appeared mildly amused. “Not exclusively. Papa wishes to discuss poetry this evening as well.”
“Then I shall count myself fortunate.”
Mr. Hurst, seated nearby, muttered something under his breath that sounded remarkably like agreement.
Elizabeth seated herself beside her sister and father with considerable satisfaction. For perhaps three minutes, peace prevailed. Then Mary moved away to speak with Jane.
Then Mr. Wilson relocated. The movement itself remained perfectly acceptable. The drawing room arrangement encouraged shifting conversation, and no one could accuse him of impropriety in selecting a chair nearer the group by the fire.
Elizabeth nevertheless experienced a powerful urge to sigh as he claimed her sister’s seat.
“You were much missed during your absence,” he informed her.
How ridiculous.“I find that difficult to believe when so many others remained in the room.”
Mr. Wilson laughed again, apparently taking everything she said as encouragement regardless of content.
Darcy’s gaze lifted briefly toward her. He made no move to rescue her or to intrude. He simply observed. The restraint somehow affected her more than interference would have done.
Mr. Wilson resumed conversation, recounting some tale regarding a merchant in Leeds who had attempted to undercut wool prices and failed spectacularly in the effort. Elizabeth listened politely while Mary asked occasional questions, though she became increasingly aware that Mr. Wilson directed every anecdote primarily toward herself.
The effect proved exhausting. Worse still, he had developed the unfortunate habit of invoking her father whenever conversation threatened to drift away from him.
“Your father once said nearly the same thing—”
“Your father possessed admirable instincts for business—”
“You have his expression precisely when you disagree with someone—”
Each remark carried the strange implication of shared intimacy, though Elizabeth scarcely remembered the man at all. Mr. Barnett had rarely been at home, spending most of his time pursuing business connections and gain. He had promised his wife that when their fortunes were met, he would hire a manager and be home more. He had, in a word, worked himself into an early grave.
Across the room, Darcy spoke quietly with Mrs. Bennet. Every so often his attention drifted elsewhere—toward Bingley and Jane, toward the fire, toward Elizabeth herself.
Each time she caught the look unexpectedly, something inside her tightened in response.
