The fear in the girl’s eyes evaporated, replaced by amusement. She let out a small laugh. “I... I should be glad to be your ally, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Excellent. Then you must come sit by me.”
Elizabeth led the shy girl to the sofa, engaging her in easy conversation about the London season, giving her time to acclimate.
While speaking with Miss Darcy, Elizabeth kept a watchful eye on the rest of the room, and what she saw filled her with joy.
Mr Darcy was standing by the fireplace, deep in conversation with Mr and Mrs Gardiner. There was nocondescension in his posture. He was not looking at the cushions, nor was he inspecting the angle of the candelabras. He was leaning in, genuinely engaged.
He lookedimpressed.
The door opened again, and the governess, unable to hold the line any longer, allowed the children to spill into the room.
The rigid protocol of the morning call dissolved into chaos.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was instantly besieged by Henry, who demanded to know if the colonel had ever shot a cannon. Anne de Bourgh, to Elizabeth’s shock, dropped gracefully to the carpet to inspect Ruth’s wooden soldier, gravely informing the five-year-old that the soldier’s uniform was out of regulation. Miss Darcy laughed aloud, forgetting her shyness as Alice showed her how to spell ‘cat’ on her slate.
It was a beautiful, noisy, joyful scene, but as Elizabeth surveyed the room, she noticed something quite wrong. Amidst the din of children, the laughter of the colonel, and the rumble of Mr Darcy’s voice, there was someone missing from the symphony.
Elizabeth glanced at the wingback armchair near the window.
Viscount Keathley was sitting there, holding a teacup. He was not speaking, nor was he deploying his legendary charm. He was not offering cutting, sarcastic observations about thedécoror the company.
The rakish, cynical, relentlessly entertaining viscount was mute.
He sat rigidly in the chair, his knuckles white around the delicate porcelain saucer, his eyes fixed with an unblinking intensity on the opposite sofa.
He was staring at Jane.
Elizabeth watched, fascinated and slightly alarmed, as Jane leaned forward to answer a question from Colonel Fitzwilliam. Jane smiled, and a melodic laugh escaped her lips.
In the armchair, Lord Keathley flinched. He inhaled so sharply it sounded as if he had just been stabbed. His eyes widened, glazed over, consumed by the sight of Jane Bennet existing in his general vicinity.
He is not well,Elizabeth thought, astounded.The man is experiencing a failure in his faculties.
She immediately sought out Darcy. She caught his eye across the room, tipping her head to the viscount and raising a single eloquent eyebrow in question.
Mr Darcy glanced at his cousin. He looked back at Elizabeth, his face a mask of dry resignation, and offered a minute shrug that perfectly conveyed:You know exactly as much as I do, and I refuse to be held responsible for him.
Elizabeth bit her lip to hide her amusement, but as her eyes lingered on Mr Darcy, she noticed something else: he was fidgeting. He was managing his conversation with her uncle flawlessly, but his hand kept drifting to the edge of his waistcoat. His eyes kept darting to Elizabeth, filled with a restless agitation, as if he was carrying a burden and needed to set it down.
He needs a private audience,Elizabeth realised.He has something to say.
She stood up, smoothed her skirts, and raised her voice to cut through the hubbub.
“Aunt Madeline,” Elizabeth called brightly. “The morning is so fine, and the spring air is so mild. Since we have such alarge party today, perhaps we might all take a walk to the park at the end of the square? I am sure Henry would love to show the colonel how fast he can run.”
“An excellent suggestion, Lizzy,” Mrs Gardiner agreed, sensing the need to release the pressure in the crowded room.
Bonnets were fetched, gloves were secured, hats and walking sticks retrieved, and the governess was summoned to help marshal the children.
Within ten minutes, the party had spilled out onto the sunlit pavement of Cheapside, forming a sprawling, noisy procession.
Colonel Fitzwilliam took the lead, chasing Henry down the pavement. Miss de Bourgh and Miss Darcy followed, walking arm-in-arm, deep in an animated discussion with Alice about the educational merits of picture books. Mr and Mrs Gardiner walked behind them, enjoying the spectacle.
Mr Darcy, moving with precision, outmanoeuvred a stray pedestrian and a fruit cart to fall into step between Elizabeth and Jane.
Viscount Keathley trailed approximately three paces behind them, walking with slow, deliberate steps.
