Bingley drew nearer to Darcy under the cover of the music.
“You are making yourself very plain.”
Darcy kept his gaze forward. “Am I?”
“To everyone but perhaps Miss Elizabeth.” Bingley grinned.
“She understands enough.”I hope.
“Then speak to her.”
Darcy shrugged. “I have tried.”
Bingley’s mouth twitched. “Try in a way that does not involve announcing before the whole room that you would marry a milkmaid.”
Darcy gave him a look.
“I thought it well done,” Bingley added, unrepentant. “Caroline may never recover. And to think Hurst slept through it all. He would have been vastly amused. Anything that upsets my sister is his delight.”
“That was not my object.” He had meant to convey his thoughts to Elizabeth.
Bingley chuckled again. “No. That is why it was enjoyable.”
Across the room, Elizabeth folded her work with deliberate care.
Darcy saw the movement and knew she would depart.
She rose. “Pray excuse me,” she said. “I should return to Jane.”
Bingley stepped forward. “Of course. Please give her my best wishes.”
“I shall.”
Miss Bingley continued playing, though the firmness of the notes suggested she had heard.
Elizabeth moved toward the door.
Darcy rose. “Miss Elizabeth.”
She paused.
He had not intended to speak so openly before them all.
Still, there she stood.
“I hope Miss Bennet improves by morning.”
Her expression eased, though only slightly. “Thank you.”
The reply was brief, but it was far from insignificant.
She left.
Darcy remained standing until the door closed behind her.
The room seemed altered by her absence.
Miss Bingley’s music continued. Mrs. Hurst resumed her seat. Bingley appeared thoroughly pleased with the world, though Darcy suspected his satisfaction had more to do with Jane Bennet than with anything said in the drawing room.
