He could not possibly mean—
No.
Certainly not.
And still, she felt his attention beside her almost physically now.
Mr. Wilson interrupted again before her thoughts could settle properly.
“Still, London offers opportunities impossible in the country.”
“Yes,” Darcy replied smoothly. “Though peace rarely numbers among them.”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes flickered between them.
Elizabeth reached hurriedly for her wine.
The evening continued growing steadily more absurd afterward.
One servant delivered the wrong dish after Thomas apparently redirected him “for efficiency.” Lady Lucas escaped into conversation with Mary purely out of desperation while Charlotte and Mr. Wilson developed an increasingly spirited discussion regarding industrial reform that left him too distracted to pursue Elizabeth further.
Darcy noticed everything.
Especially Elizabeth trying not to laugh.
“You are enjoying this,” he murmured during a lull.
“I absolutely should not.”
“But you are.”
She risked glancing toward him. “Only a little.”
His eyes warmed. “Liar.”
The word, delivered so tenderly, sent heat straight into her cheeks.
“Mr. Darcy.”
“Miss Elizabeth.”
The familiarity between them deepened with every exchange now, and Elizabeth no longer truly understood when that had happened.
After dinner the drawing room descended further into chaos.
Miss Bingley attempted music only to discover Lydia and Kitty had misplaced half the sheet music. Charlotte quietly informed Elizabeth she suspected conspiracy. Mrs. Bennet appeared steadily more exhausted with every passing quarter hour.
At one point Elizabeth caught sight of Thomas and Toby peering triumphantly from behind the library door while Lydia whispered something urgently between them.
Organized chaos indeed.
Darcy joined Elizabeth near the fire later while the room swirled around them in overlapping conversation.
“You suspect them now,” he said quietly.
Elizabeth turned to him at once. “You know?”
“I know enough.”
