Toby muttered, “Slowly.”
Darcy met his gaze.
The boy met it without a trace of repentance.
Mrs. Bennet, fortunately or unfortunately, missed the exchange. She was speaking with Bingley regarding wedding arrangements, while Jane sat beside him looking both happy and overwhelmed. Wilson used that moment to ask Elizabeth whether she still possessed the invoices he had brought.
“I gave them to Mama for safekeeping,” Elizabeth replied.
“I am glad. There may be others among my papers. If I find them, I shall send them.”
“That is thoughtful of you.”
Darcy hated the wordthoughtfulmore than it deserved.
Wilson smiled. “Your father deserves remembrance.”
Elizabeth’s expression tightened.
Darcy stood abruptly—too abruptly.
Mary lifted her head.
“I beg your pardon,” he said. “The fire is rather warm.”
Lydia glanced at the hearth, then at him, and seemed delighted by whatever conclusion she reached.
Darcy crossed toward the window.
Outside, the garden lay damp from thawing snow. The shrubs were bare. The path where he had once walked with Elizabeth at Netherfield came back to him in fragments, though they were not at Netherfield now. That was the trouble.
Longbourn had taken root in him.
Not the house alone. The people. The disorder. Mrs. Bennet’s capable hands arranging comfort before anyone asked. Mr. Bennet’s dry voice from behind a book. Miss Mary’s earnestness. Miss Lydia’s ridiculous boldness and Miss Kitty following along. The twins hurling judgment and wooden soldiers in equal measure.
And Elizabeth at the center of it.
When she left the room a short while later to fetch a shawl for Miss Bennet, Longbourn changed.
The change was absurd. Nothing visible altered. Bingley still spoke to Jane. Mrs. Bennet still managed the tea table. The twins still whispered near the fire. Wilson remained in his chair.
But Darcy no longer wanted to stand there.
He stared out the window and waited for her return with an impatience he could neither justify nor conceal from himself.
Thomas appeared at his elbow.
“You are being very slow.”
Darcy did not look down. “Good afternoon to you as well.”
Toby joined them on his other side. “Mr. Wilson spoke to Mama.”
“I gathered.”
Thomas scowled toward the room. “He wants permission.”
Darcy’s fingers tightened behind his back.
