Page 221 of A Question of Character

“I thanked him for his assistance. I acknowledged that I had misjudged the situation. Yet I do not believe I have apologized as plainly as I ought.”

Mr. Bennet regarded him thoughtfully.

“There are occasions when plain words are best.”

Darcy inclined his head.

“I begin to suspect there are more of those occasions than I once believed.”

“Think nothing of it, Darcy.” Wickham cut in from across the room. “I would not have believed me either. Not after all I put you through.”

He spoke with such matter-of-fact good humor that the awkwardness dissolved relatively quickly. Elizabeth thought again of the young man who had first arrived in Meryton. Vanity had once flavored nearly everything he said. That quality had yielded to an honesty she doubted many in the neighborhood yet fully appreciated.

Darcy regarded him steadily.

“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But I ought to have questioned my certainty rather sooner.”

Wickham shrugged.

“We both had old habits to overcome.”

Mrs. Bennet looked from one gentleman to the other.

“I declare I like this friendship vastly better than the former arrangement.”

Mr. Bennet chuckled.

“I daresay it is an improvement.”

“Then let us begin again. We need to get along, especially since we will likely be intimately connected someday.”

The declaration surprised everyone save, perhaps, Darcy himself. It carried neither embarrassment nor hesitation. He spoke as a gentleman who had resolved upon his future and intended to pursue it honorably.

Elizabeth sucked in a breath.

Heat rushed to her cheeks before she could master herself. Though she had long hoped for those words, hearing them spoken openly before her family made the prospect suddenly immediate. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes widened with unmistakable delight, while Jane lowered her gaze in an effort to conceal her smile.

Mr. Bennet observed the company over folded hands, saying nothing.

“I believe that you and I should take a walk, Miss Lydia. Miss Mary, will you accompany us?” Wickham grinned and stood, holding his hand out to Elizabeth’s youngest sister.

Lydia accepted instantly.

“With pleasure.”

Mary blinked in surprise at finding herself included, then rose with dignity. “I should be happy to.”

“I think fresh air will improve us all,” Wickham declared.

Mrs. Bennet looked as though she might object to abandoning so interesting a conversation, but one glance at Darcy’s expression appeared sufficient to convince her that the young couple deserved privacy.

“Come, Kitty,” she said briskly. “We shall see whether Cook has any of those little cakes remaining.”

Within moments, the room was empty.

The door had scarcely closed before the silence altered its character. Gone was the bustle of family conversation. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, falling across the carpet between them. Somewhere beyond the open casement a bird called from the shrubbery, and the faint voices of the others drifted toward the gardens before fading altogether.

For a brief moment neither Elizabeth nor Darcy spoke.