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Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes.

“Lizzy had planned on visiting the Lake District with her aunt and uncle, but they had to alter the plans at the last minute. Would that they had undertaken that journey! Then my beloved Lizzy would still be with us.” Mrs. Bennet dabbed her eyes dramatically with her handkerchief. “Instead the Gardiners took Lizzy to Brighton where she could visit her sister Lydia. Lydia is a particular friend of Mrs. Forster’s you see, and such a favorite with all the officers.”

Mr. Bennet appeared to be grinding his teeth.

Oblivious, Mrs. Bennet rattled on. “While at Brighton, Lizzy thought to visit her friend, Anna Wilson, who married a man from the isle of Jersey. The Gardiners’ friend captained the cutter that takes supplies to the garrison on Jersey; he offered to take Lizzy so she could call upon her friend. She was the only woman aboard, but the captain said he would watch over her….”

Here Mrs. Bennet paused and glanced at Darcy uncertainly, although Bingley had asked the question. Darcy nodded for her to continue. He had never been to Jersey, or any of the Channel Islands, but he knew they were heavily fortified since they lay so close to the French coast.

“Well,” Mrs. Bennet continued with a flourish of her handkerchief, “the boat had almost reached Jersey when it exploded!” Her eyes were wide with excitement. “Just blasted to pieces!”

In the ensuing silence, Mr. Bennet stood and strode swiftly from the room, blinking furiously. His wife paid him no heed. As Jane sobbed anew, Bingley handed her his handkerchief.

“There was quite a lot of gunpowder in the hold, you see,” Mrs. Bennet explained after a moment. “Somehow it ignited.”

Now Darcy recalled reading of the incident in the paper, but he had taken little notice of it. How blissfully ignorant had he been, unaware that such a distant incident had ruined all his chances for happiness!

Mrs. Bennet was sniffing dramatically and dabbing her eyes.

Bingley released a shaky breath. “Did anyone survive the mishap?”

The older woman shook her head vigorously. “It was very deep water. They were not even able to recover m-most of the b-b-bodies…” Her tears flowed more freely, affected grief giving way to genuine emotion. “My L-Lizzy at the bottom of the ocean!” The last word dissolved into a sob.

Bingley’s eyes sought Darcy’s in wide-eyed alarm as they listened to the quiet sobs of the two women. A distant part of Darcy’s mind supposed he should attempt to provide words of comfort, but grief paralyzed his tongue.

Eventually, Jane stumbled to her mother, sitting beside her on the sofa and e

mbracing her.

I should give my condolences. It is only proper under the circumstances. But the moment seemed beyond any possible speech, the events too enormous for words. If he so much as opened his mouth, Darcy would shatter into shards—like a glass vase dropped on the floor, never to be reassembled. I will never see Elizabeth again.

How paltry and petty his objections to Elizabeth were revealed to be. Her family’s lack of propriety, her connections shriveled to insignificance. He had allowed these trivial considerations to blind himself to her truth worth. In other words, he had been an unpardonable fool. He would happily accept an entire town’s worth of inappropriate relations if he could have another hour’s conversation with her.

A thick, uncomfortable silence had fallen over the room. Finally, Bingley coughed. “Is there to be a service?”

Darcy’s heart gave a tiny leap. He could make one more gesture to honor Elizabeth; he could attend her funeral.

But Jane dashed the hope to pieces in the next moment. “The funeral was a week ago,” she responded in a low voice. “There is a headstone in the churchyard, although we had nothing to bury.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes.

Darcy pictured Mr. Bennet standing solemn and solitary by the graveside of his second eldest daughter. No wonder the man had aged so considerably.

As another heavy silence closed in, Darcy conjured up words of sympathy, but the huge obstruction in his throat made speech impossible. He breathed too quickly but could not seem to slow the strangled gasps, even as the lack of air made him lightheaded. The walls of the room were bearing down on him, slowly and inexorably, and he needed to escape.

Darcy lurched to his feet. “I fear you have long been desiring our absence at such a time.”

Appearing a bit shocked, Bingley also struggled to stand.

Jane regarded Darcy sympathetically. “Your visit was a welcome distraction. I hope you will come again.” Her gaze slid to Bingley.

He nodded earnestly. “If you would like.”

“I pray you do return,” Jane responded, regarding him shyly. “It is good to have the comfort of friends.”

Darcy shuffled toward the door but paused beside Mrs. Bennet’s chair. “My condolences on your loss, madam.”

She inclined her head but averted her eyes, obviously finding his manners wanting. But Darcy’s heart had lodged in his throat, and he could say no more.

Without having made a conscious decision to leave, Darcy found himself sweeping over the threshold and into the corridor, where his feet carried him to the door. He could not escape Longbourn quickly enough.

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