Lady Lucas appeared exhausted.
Mr. Wilson seemed both irritated and winded.
Darcy remained crouched beside Toby, examining one wet boot where the boy had partially slipped through melting ice near the bank.
“You are fortunate,” he said calmly.
Toby lowered his head appropriately. “Yes, sir.”
Thomas shifted guiltily beside Elizabeth. “It was my fault.”
“No,” Toby answered. “Mine.”
Darcy glanced between them. “Then you may share responsibility equally.”
The twins accepted this judgment with surprising solemnity.
Elizabeth knelt to adjust Toby’s cloak more securely around him. “What possessed you both?”
“There was a hat,” Thomas explained weakly.
“It belonged to Lydia,” Toby added.
Lydia was delighted. “It did!”
Mrs. Bennet closed her eyes in resignation.
Darcy’s mouth twitched.
Elizabeth saw it and nearly laughed herself despite everything.
The absurdity of the entire scene fell gradually over the company afterward while everyone turned back toward Longbourn. Snow clung to hems. Kitty still giggled periodically. Mr. Bennet appeared deeply entertained beneath outward concern.
And somehow, without arrangement or discussion, Elizabeth and Darcy fell into step beside one another while the others spread loosely ahead and behind.
Neither spoke. The silence felt easy. Comfortable.
Elizabeth found herself more disturbed by the realization than the situation warranted.
At last Darcy said quietly, “Your brothers possess remarkable talent for catastrophe.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You are very generous to call it talent.”
“I assure you, accidental chaos rarely displays such consistency.”
“They mean well.”
“I know.”
The simple certainty in his voice warmed her unexpectedly.
Elizabeth glanced toward him. “Most people find them exhausting.”
“Most people fail to listen to them.”
That answer surprised her enough to halt briefly in the snow.
Darcy slowed. “They are clever boys,” he continued. “Exceptionally so. Mischievous certainly, but observant. They notice more than adults realize.”
