Page 25 of The Engagement at Longbourn

“Good.”

A pause. Then Mr. Bennet said, “You may find courtship at Longbourn unlike anything your education has prepared you for.”

From the corridor came Lydia’s voice: “La, Kitty, give it back! It is my ribbon!”

A crash followed. Mrs. Bennet cried, “Girls!”

Darcy looked at the ceiling.

Mr. Bennet smiled. “I see you understand already.”

CHAPTER NINE

The Terms of an Engagement

Elizabeth entered Darcy’s room that afternoon prepared to be embarrassed.

She was not prepared for him to look embarrassed too. He was propped against pillows, colour returned enough to his face that he no longer resembled a marble effigy. His leg remained elevated beneath blankets, the splints concealed but not forgotten.

Richard had shaved him that morning and, according to Lydia, “Mr. Darcy looked almost like a gentleman again.”

Elizabeth had not repeated that observation. Darcy set aside the book he had not been reading.

“Miss Elizabeth.”

“Mr. Darcy.” She closed the door but left it unlatched. For a moment neither spoke.

Then Darcy said, “I owe you an apology.”

Elizabeth sat in the chair by the window. “Only one?”

A faint colour appeared across his cheekbones.

Her own embarrassment eased.

“I suspect several,” he said gravely. “But I thought to begin with the most urgent.”

“That seems efficient.”

“For kissing you without permission.”

Elizabeth looked at her hands.

“I am sorry.”

She lifted her eyes. His expression held no attempt at charm, no expectation that rank or intention excused the act. “I accept your apology.”

He inclined his head.

“And,” she added, “I acknowledge that you believed yourself kissing your future wife.”

Darcy went redder.

Elizabeth enjoyed that more than she ought.

“I did.”

“You were very pleased with yourself.”