Toby pulled a face. “That sounds very much like Mary.”
“And Mary is almost always sensible,” Thomas admitted, “but she occasionally takes too long to reach the interesting part.”
Darcy laughed despite himself.
The boys remained perfectly serious.
Toby spoke first this time, his voice more earnest than teasing.
“When Lizzy talks to you, she laughs differently.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow at the boy.
Thomas nodded vigorously. “She laughs with everyone. But with you it is different.”
“How so?”
The boys considered.
“At other times,” Toby said, “she laughs because something is funny.”
Thomas took up the explanation. “With you, she laughs before she remembers she is supposed to be sensible.”
Darcy found no immediate reply.
Toby shifted his stick from one hand to the other. “She listens to you too.”
“She listens to everyone.”
“Yes,” Thomas said, “but she argues with you.”
“That is a very good sign,” Toby added.
Darcy had, in truth, come to cherish her contradictions.
Thomas continued, warming to his subject. “You also listen to her properly.”
“Most gentlemen listen only until it is their turn to speak,” Toby said.
“Or they nod without hearing.”
“Mr. Wilson listens.”
The concession seemed difficult.
Thomas scowled. “Yes, but he listens because he likes what Lizzy says.”
Toby nodded. “You listen because you like that she says it.”
Darcy stared at them.
It was absurd.
It was uncomfortably accurate.
Thomas leaned closer. “There is another thing.”
Darcy braced himself.
