The boys seized Elizabeth’s hands before she could answer.
“We searched the stables.”
“And the shrubbery.”
“And the kitchen.”
“The dog is nowhere.”
Their words tumbled out one after another, making it impossible to clearly understand who spoke and when.
Elizabeth cast one suspicious glance toward the lawn, where the enormous wolfhound in question—lay in full view beneath the dining room window, fast asleep.
Mr. Wilson followed her gaze.
The dog snored.
For several seconds no one spoke.
Lydia pressed her lips together so firmly that her shoulders began to shake.
Toby glanced at the hound, then back at Elizabeth. “Oh,” he said.
Thomas folded his arms with considerable dignity. “Perhaps he has been found.”
Mr. Wilson exhaled through his nose.
Elizabeth could have sunk through the earth. “I am so very sorry.”
He bowed slightly. “I begin to suspect, Miss Elizabeth, that your younger relations are not entirely impartial.”
The twins drew themselves up in affront.
“We are always impartial,” Toby declared.
“Except when we are not,” Thomas amended. He then leaned close to his brother and whispered, “What does impartial mean?”
Lydia gave up the struggle and cackled aloud.
Elizabeth, torn between mortification and reluctant amusement, covered her face with one gloved hand. “Please forgive them.”
Mr. Wilson regarded the three culprits, who stood shoulder to shoulder like a small and deeply unrepentant regiment. “I confess,” he said slowly, “that I am beginning to wonder whether I have entered into active opposition.”
“That is absurd,” Elizabeth said, though her tone lacked conviction. She knew the twins preferred Mr. Darcy.
Lydia coughed into her handkerchief.
Mr. Wilson’s mouth twitched despite himself. “Perhaps.”
The moment, once gathered so carefully, had dissolved beyond recovery.
They returned to the house in a curious procession: Lydia leading with exaggerated innocence, the twins flanking Elizabeth with proprietary determination, and Mr. Wilson walking beside her with an expression that alternated between irritation and reluctant amusement.
Mrs. Bennet was in the drawing room arranging flowers when they entered. “You are back sooner than I expected.”
Lydia removed her bonnet. “There was an emergency.”
Mrs. Bennet looked askance at her three youngest children, then turned to Elizabeth. Understanding dawned with painful swiftness. “Indeed.”
