Page 139 of What Change Entails

Nothing calculated.

Pemberley loved sincerity. Its people always had.

And Elizabeth gave it without effort.

He loved her with such force in that moment it nearly frightened him.

“Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley said behind him.

The spell shattered. She stood alone several paces away, one gloved hand twisting around her parasol handle.

“You have scarcely spoken ten words to me all afternoon.”

Darcy chose his response carefully. “The tenants require attention today.”

“I do not refer to the tenants.”

He said nothing.

Miss Bingley’s gaze flicked toward Elizabeth beneath the tree. “Perhaps I have misunderstood your intentions.”

“That is possible.”

The answer landed harder than intended.

Miss Bingley’s face altered.

Darcy almost regretted it.

Almost.

Before further conversation became unavoidable, Lydia’s voice rang across the field.

“Mr. Darcy! Your dog has stolen sausage again!”

Horace bolted past carrying precisely that.

Darcy closed his eyes.

When he opened them, Miss Bingley appeared furious.

Elizabeth escaped to the orchard path because she could no longer bear watching Miss Bingley attempt ownership over every conversation Mr. Darcy entered.

The picnic had exhausted everyone pleasantly except Miss Bingley, who appeared sharpened by irritation with every passing hour.

Elizabeth understood why.

Nothing had gone according to her wishes.

The tenants adored Darcy openly. Georgiana had spent half the afternoon laughing with Lydia beneath the trees. Mr. Bingley vanished happily wherever Jane’s name might someday lead him. Even Mrs. Reynolds treated the Gardiners with unaffected affection.

And Darcy—

Elizabeth stopped walking abruptly.

There lay the true difficulty.

Darcy had not hidden himself from her today.