There was no alarm in Mrs. Bennet’s expression, only thoughtfulness touched faintly with concern. Grace Bennet rarely allowed herself dramatic speculation, and that restraint alone made Elizabeth more attentive.
“You truly have no idea why he comes?” she asked.
Mrs. Bennet shook her head slowly. “None.”
Mr. Bennet folded the letter once more. “Then it appears we shall discover the answer together.”
Across the table, Thomas and Toby exchanged glances.
Guilty ones.
Elizabeth caught the look promptly.
So did Mrs. Bennet.
The twins lowered their eyes and resumed picking mournfully at their food.
Elizabeth raised one brow toward them.
Thomas flushed.
Toby became suddenly fascinated by his potatoes.
The effect was so transparent that Kitty nearly cackled aloud trying to suppress it.
Mr. Bennet noticed at last. “What new conspiracy brews there?”
“None, Papa,” Toby answered instantly.
“Absolutely none,” Thomas agreed.
“An excellent beginning,” Mr. Bennet observed. “Whenever two boys insist upon innocence before accusation has occurred, disaster invariably follows.”
Lydia giggled.
Mrs. Bennet regarded the twins steadily. “You are already confined for one scheme. I advise against planning another.”
“We are reformed,” Thomas said mournfully.
“Absolutely,” Toby added.
Elizabeth nearly succumbed to amusement herself at the expression on their faces. Remorse sat upon the twins awkwardly, like coats borrowed from someone much older and less inclined toward mischief.
Still, her suspicions stirred anew.
The broken carriage fittings.
Their transparent efforts to strand her at Netherfield.
The strangely triumphant glances they exchanged whenever Mr. Darcy’s name arose.
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes slightly.
What precisely had her brothers decided to accomplish?
The thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
Not because she truly feared some elaborate manipulation on the twins’ part. Thomas and Toby possessed enthusiasm in far greater measure than strategy.
