“I think, William,” said the countess in a low tone, approaching them a few moments after their interlude, “that nothing you could have calculated to show the masses would have been more effective than what you just did.”
“Do you not suppose they will deplore us for being so unfashionable?” asked Elizabeth, mirth in her tone.
“Perhaps some will,” agreed Lady Susan, “for many see marriage as nothing so much as a business transaction. Most, however, will respect you for the obvious display you just made.”
“That was my opinion too,” replied Darcy.
“Do not hesitate to show it,” said the countess, fixing them both with genuine affection. “The more you display your loyalty to each other and your ability to move among them without difficulty, the better your acceptance will be.” The countess paused and shook her head. “I do not know what Winchester means by approaching you, but his obvious approbation will not do you any harm, for all that his reputation is not the best.”
“I have heard of him, too,” mused Darcy. “Yet he has been nothing but friendly and respectful.”
“He did not even attempt to seduce me,” added Elizabeth with a bit of mischief.
“Then it would be best to accept his overtures so long as his behavior remains unchanged.”
Darcy agreed, and soon the countess drifted away to speak to Mrs. Bennet. At the earl’s invitation, Bingley and his sisters and brother-in-law were also in attendance, and they were of much more interest to Darcy than anyone else.
“Bingley,” said Darcy in greeting when his friend appeared. “I have seen little of you of late.”
Bingley laughed, in true Bingley fashion. “I hope you do not begrudge my recent absence.”
“As my sister is glowing, I shall not complain.”
“Oh, aye, Jane has been most delightfully easy to tease,” said Elizabeth, stepping forward and greeting Bingley, allowing him to bow over her hand. “And how is your family, Mr. Bingley?”
“All very well,” replied he with a grin. “I hope you do not mind, for Caroline has been speaking of her desire to be in your company again, Mrs. Darcy.”
Proving her excellent nature, Elizabeth nodded with a wide smile. “I am eager to greet her again, Mr. Bingley. If you will excuse me.”
As Darcy watched her retreat to where Miss Bingley stood with the Hursts, engaging in an affectionate greeting and allowing the introduction to the couple she had not yet met, Darcy noted that Bingley watched the welcome as closely as Darcy did himself. Then Bingley turned back, his expression containing no little wryness.
“I have said it before, Darcy, but you have married a most excellent woman. To accept my sister as she has after Caroline’s provocation is more than I might have expected of even a woman with an exceptional disposition.”
“You will receive no argument from me, Bingley,” agreed Darcy, not removing his eyes from his wife. “Any man who gains her favor must be the most fortunate alive—as I am the fortunate recipient of that regard, my happiness is complete.”
“Besotted is not a word most of our friends would attribute to you, but I believe it fits you rather well.” Bingley grinned. “But I must disabuse you of one thing, for I quite consider Miss Bennet to be her superior, though I mean no slight against your admirable wife.”
“If you wish to persist in that delusion,” jested Darcy in return, “I have no objection.”
“Yes, I shall. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall join the best woman of my acquaintance.”
Jane Bennet’s rosy hue as Bingley approached and kissed her hand spoke volumes as to her regard for him, rendering Darcy content. Matters were proceeding between them with as much promise as they had shown on that January morning when he and Elizabeth had introduced them. That Darcy would now add the title “brother” to his dearest friend was nothing less than welcome.
After the performance, the family retired to Lord Matlock’s house, where they partook of the late dinner. As the family sat together in animated conversation, Darcy noted how even Lydia Bennet, she who craved balls and parties, chattered with the other girls of the spectacle and how much she had enjoyed it. Darcy suspected the girl had looked at promises of age-appropriate activities as a sop to prevent her complaints. Now, however, having experienced some of it, Darcy suspected she now saw some contentment and perhaps even anticipation while she waited to come out. That did not mean the final year, especially, would not be a trial on her patience, but it made the possibility of enduring her displeasure easier.
The excitement of the night happened after their return to Darcy’s house. It was late after the amusements of the theater and the dinner following, such that when the family returned home, everyone sought their beds at once. Darcy spoke briefly with the butler when they arrived, but there was nothing amiss. This all changed perhaps three hours after they retired.
A shout woke Darcy from a deep sleep, and Elizabeth, ensconced in the circle of his arms, also started at the sudden sound. Darcy lifted his head from the pillow, and the sounds of other disturbance, followed by the pounding of feet on the tiles of the hall, audible even behind the stout bedroom and sitting-room doors, reached his ears. The commotion was unmistakable.
At once, Darcy leaned down and kissed the top of Elizabeth’s head. “Wait here while I investigate, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth rose to a sitting position, the sheets of their bed falling about her midsection, the sleep-disturbed plait of hair allowing loose curls to escape their bands, the moon shining in through the window illuminating her like some alabaster statue.
“What is it, William?”
Darcy groaned and leaned down to kiss her lips. “You are too tempting, my dear, so much that I would prefer to remain and kiss you senseless. When I have learned what happened, I will return.”
Elizabeth offered him a seductive smile and lay down amid the tangle of blankets and sheets. “I will be waiting for you, my husband.”
