Her laugh escaped before she could stop it. “They are dreadful.”
“They are devoted.”
The reply instantly placated her.
Elizabeth directed her attention toward the twins again, where they now argued silently over some new scheme.
“Yes,” she admitted. “They are.”
Darcy followed her gaze before looking back at her, the warmth in his expression striking with such force that Elizabeth forgot the rest of the room for one suspended instant and noticed only him.
Apparently, others noticed too. Charlotte Lucas stared directly at them and smiled faintly before turning away. And Mrs. Bennet, from across the room, suddenly appeared very thoughtful indeed.
The evening finally collapsed near midnight when Mrs. Bennet rose with unmistakable determination.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced with impressive dignity considering the state of her household, “I believe Longbourn has exhausted itself.”
General laughter followed.
Guests began gathering cloaks and exchanging farewells while servants hurried everywhere simultaneously.
Mr. Bingley lingered absurdly long over Jane’s hand.
Mr. Wilson attempted once more to secure Elizabeth’s attention only for Toby to appear suddenly announcing the kitchen cat had delivered kittens beneath the back stairs.
Mr. Wilson, bewildered, followed the twins before realizing halfway across the hall that he had absolutely no reason to inspect kittens.
Darcy saw the entire exchange.
So did Elizabeth.
Their eyes met, and both of them laughed—not politely or socially, but genuinely. The sound settled warmly between them while chaos continued all around.
Mr. Bennet, watching from the doorway, shook his head slowly.
“I begin to suspect,” he drawled, “that Longbourn may not survive another dinner invitation.”
Mrs. Bennet playfully swatted at her husband, and Elizabeth heard her muttering about punishing ‘that girl’ before she climbed the stairs to her bedchamber.
I suppose I shall not be required to tell Mama after all.
A Rival for Elizabeth
Darcy no longer searched for an excuse to call at Longbourn. Seeing Elizabeth was enough. Bingley required no persuasion. Any proposal that placed him within the same walls as Miss Bennet received immediate approval, and Darcy had long since ceased pretending his friend’s eagerness was anything but transparent. If Bingley rose from breakfast with a distracted expression and three times asked whether the weather was suitable for riding, one had only to mention Longbourn and the matter was worked out before the second cup of coffee had cooled.
That morning, fortune favored them further. Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, and Mr. Hurst had gone into Meryton, though Darcy suspected Miss Bingley’s willingness to do so owed less to any affection for the village than to a desire to show herself indifferent to his movements. Her attentions had cooled noticeably during the past several days. Not vanished altogether, but moderated. She no longer hovered near his chair with thesame persistence. She no longer turned every subject toward Pemberley, Georgiana, or the supposed elegance of London society. Whether she had grown weary of fruitless efforts, or whether resentment had overtaken expectation, Darcy could not say.
He hoped, with cautious gratitude, that she had begun to give him up.
The ride to Longbourn was pleasant despite the bite of late November air. Bingley spoke nearly the whole way, chiefly of Miss Bennet’s improving health and the possibility of some small gathering at Netherfield once she was fully restored. Darcy replied where necessary, though his own thoughts moved ahead of them.
Toward Elizabeth.
Always, increasingly, toward Elizabeth.
Longbourn received them with its usual mixture of propriety and warmth. Mrs. Bennet welcomed them as though their arrival pleased her, not simply because manners demanded it, and Mr. Bennet greeted them from his chair near the fire with a dry remark about gentlemen who claimed to call upon households when everyone knew they meant to call upon particular daughters.
Bingley blushed.
