Then, very slowly, understanding began to dawn.
“No.”
Mrs. Bennet’s expression remained suspiciously neutral.
Elizabeth felt horror and reluctant amusement collide.
“They are confined to the nursery for the remainder of the week,” Mrs. Bennet said firmly. “And your father intends avery serious discussion regarding the dangers of meddling with carriage fittings.”
Elizabeth sank into the nearest chair.
The twins.
Of course it was the twins. Her brothers had somehow contrived to strand her and Jane at Netherfield. Heat rose instantly into her cheeks as fresh understanding followed the first. They had done it deliberately. Not merely mischief, but on purpose.
Elizabeth covered her face briefly with one hand. “What,” she muttered, “are those mischievous boys about?”
Mrs. Bennet’s lips twitched despite herself. “My dear, if you discover the answer, I beg you to share it with me.”
A Gentleman Called Wilson
The return to Longbourn restored its customary rhythms with surprising speed, though beneath the familiar comforts of home Elizabeth remained aware of a subtle disruption she could not entirely dismiss.
Jane’s illness naturally occupied much of the household’s attention. Mrs. Bennet moved through the day with her usual composed efficiency, directing servants, checking on draughts and broth, and ensuring that Jane received every comfort likely to hasten her recovery. Mrs. Hill maintained a determined watch near the sickroom. Mary had already selected several improving passages to read aloud should Jane’s strength permit it. Kitty and Lydia alternated between genuine concern and disappointment at being admitted to their sister’s chamber only under strict supervision.
As for Thomas and Toby, they endured their punishment with all the visible misery of condemned princes.
Elizabeth observed them closely throughout the day.
The twins had never openly confessed to sabotaging the carriage. They had also avoided any direct falsehood on the subject, a circumstance that in some respects proved even more alarming. Both boys carried themselves with an exaggerated meekness wholly foreign to their nature, and whenever either met Elizabeth’s eye, a fresh expression of guilt crossed his face before vanishing beneath studied concentration upon whatever happened to occupy him.
It would almost have been easier had they displayed less remorse.
Elizabeth found it exceedingly difficult to maintain proper indignation while Toby attempted to smuggle extra jam to Jane’s tray under the sincere but mistaken conviction that preserves cured fever, and Thomas offered to surrender his favorite soldiers for an entire week if only Mama would cease looking disappointed in him.
Mr. Bennet, however, appeared far less susceptible to such tactics.
By dinner that evening, the twins sat unusually subdued between their father and Mary, both boys regarding their plates with tragic resignation while the rest of the family attempted, with varying degrees of success, to behave as though nothing extraordinary had occurred.
The dining room glowed warmly beneath candlelight, the curtains drawn firmly against the autumn darkness beyond the windows. Jane, though improving, remained upstairs with a tray, having been judged still too weak for a full family dinner. Mrs. Bennet had objected mildly on the grounds that illness was miserable enough without solitary meals, but Jane herself preferred to rest, and the matter had been decided accordingly.
Elizabeth found herself more conscious than usual of the empty place at the table.
Or perhaps, she admitted privately, she was simply too conscious of the place Mr. Darcy had occupied in her thoughts throughout the afternoon.
That realization alone was enough to irritate her with herself.
She ought to think of him less often.
She certainly ought to feel no sudden blush in her cheeks whenever particular moments from their morning walk returned to her mind. The steady sincerity of his apology had unnerved her sufficiently without her imagination revisiting the expression in his eyes when he spoke of her family.
More troubling still, she had believed him.
That was the true danger.
Elizabeth reached for her wineglass, partly to distract herself from the thought.
Across the table, Lydia was attempting with little success to draw the twins into conversation.
