“I am not tied,” Toby protested from somewhere beyond the morning room. “I am imprisoned.”
“Unjustly,” Thomas added.
“Justice rarely requires curtain cords,” Elizabeth replied.
Bingley guffawed.
Darcy found himself smiling before he entered the room.
Elizabeth stood near the window with one hand on her hip, her dark curls loosening from their pins, her expression caught between exasperation and laughter. Toby sat in a chair with curtain cord looped around his waist in a knot too elaborate for any innocent explanation. Thomas stood beside him holding a wooden sword.
Mary sat at the pianoforte pretending not to watch.
Lydia, sprawled on the sofa with a fashion plate, offered no assistance whatsoever.
Mrs. Bennet entered from the adjoining room at precisely the wrong moment and took in the scene.
“Thomas.”
The boy lowered the sword. “It was a siege.”
Mrs. Bennet turned to Darcy and Bingley. “Welcome to Longbourn, gentlemen. We are, as you see, engaged in military affairs.”
“An impressive campaign,” Darcy said.
Elizabeth glanced at him, and the look she gave him nearly knocked the air from his chest. Amusement, apology, welcome. All in one second.
He stepped forward and offered the books to Mary, who rose with genuine pleasure.
“You found the volume?”
“And two others which may interest you.”
Mary accepted them as though he had handed her treasure. “That is very kind.”
Thomas had freed Toby by then, or perhaps Toby had freed himself through violent twisting. Both boys approached Darcy with solemn faces.
“Mr. Darcy,” Toby said, “may we speak with you later?”
Darcy lowered his gaze to the boys. “That depends upon whether the conversation concerns siege warfare or household sabotage.”
Thomas frowned. “Neither.”
“Mostly,” Toby added.
Elizabeth covered a laugh with a cough.
The boys drew themselves up in offense.
Bingley had drifted toward Jane, who had just entered with Mrs. Bennet. Their happiness had become almost embarrassing in its sincerity. Bingley glowed. Jane blushed whenever anyone noticed. Everyone noticed.
Darcy should have found it excessive.
Instead, he envied the clarity of it.
Wilson entered several minutes later.
The warmth in the room altered for Darcy. Not visibly, perhaps. The fire still burned. Lydia still turned pages. Thomas and Toby still stared at Wilson as though he had personally offended the monarchy.
