Elizabeth admired her afresh.
Nothing ever seemed to overwhelm Grace Bennet for long. Difficulties were acknowledged, sorted, and managed with steady practicality.
Together they descended to the drawing room to take their leave.
Bingley rose directly upon their entrance.
“You are leaving already?”
Mrs. Bennet smiled warmly. “Mr. Jones believes Jane may safely return home, provided we keep her warm.”
Bingley remained unconvinced. “Are you certain it is wise to travel so soon?”
“There are hot bricks waiting in the carriage,” Mrs. Bennet assured him. “And the distance is short. We shall have her home and tucked into bed again before long.”
Bingley hesitated, plainly reluctant to relinquish responsibility, though he bowed politely.
“I hope Miss Bennet continues to improve.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bingley,” Mrs. Bennet replied. “You have shown my daughters every kindness. We are greatly obliged to you.”
“You owe me no obligation.”
“Nonsense. Hospitality deserves gratitude.” Mrs. Bennet smiled. “Once Jane is restored, perhaps you and your sisters might dine with us next week.”
Bingley beamed. “We should be delighted.”
Miss Bingley’s expression suggested somewhat less delight, though propriety prevented objection.
During the exchange, Elizabeth became aware—painfully aware—of Darcy’s attention.
At last, she raised her eyes to his.
He bowed—not deeply, just a slight dip from his shoulders.
Such a small gesture ought not to have affected her so strongly.
There was something in his expression—something intent and unmistakably warm—that sent heat rising instantly into her cheeks.
Elizabeth turned away almost at once.
Absurd.
Utterly absurd.
And still her pulse betrayed her.
Mrs. Bennet noticed nothing. Or perhaps she noticed everything and simply chose silence.
The farewells concluded shortly afterward.
Bingley assisted Jane into the carriage with such earnest care that Elizabeth suspected her sister’s recovery might now depend partly upon surviving his attentions without excessive embarrassment. Mrs. Bennet followed, then Elizabeth after her.
Darcy remained near the steps as the door closed.
For one brief moment before the carriage pulled away, Elizabeth met his eyes again through the window.
His expression had changed now, stripped of reserve.
