“…and so I told you, Louisa, thatof coursehe finds her eyes fine. He stares at themoften enough.“ Miss Bingley’s voice held its usual saccharine veneer, barely disguising the irritation beneath.
From within the room, Louisa Hurst gave a low hum of agreement.
Darcy’s brow furrowed, but he remained still, ears sharpened.
“He received a note this morning,” Miss Bingley continued. “Charles, I mean. The officers have invited the gentlemen to dine—no ladies, naturally. I believe Colonel Forster’s own batman delivered it.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Hurst asked mildly.
“Yes, and Charles means to accept. But it presents an opportunity, does it not?” Her voice took on a calculating tone that Darcy knew too well. “If the gentlemen will be gone, I shall invite Miss Bennet and her sister to tea.”
There was a pause. Mrs. Hurst did not immediately reply, and Miss Bingley pressed on.
“I should like toobserveMiss Eliza Bennet in her natural environment—without Mr. Darcy standing guard like some ancient knight.” The sarcasm practically dripped from her next words. “I am eager to discover what exactly he finds so captivating beyond herfine eyes.It cannot be her family. Or her manners. Or her appearance, if we are being honest.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened, but he made no sound.
“I daresay,” Miss Bingley added, “if left without distraction, her charms will lose their luster.”
Her sister sniffed. “You plan to catch her out, then?”
“Oh no. I simply wish tounderstand. For now. Besides, there is more that must be learned. Our brother is fascinated with Miss Bennet. We must discover all her weaknesses and protect Charles from making a permanent mistake.”
That was enough. Darcy stepped silently back from the doorway and turned on his heel. Within moments, he was striding down the west corridor in search of Bingley.
He found his friend precisely where expected: in the library, his arm slung lazily across the back of a winged chair, a steaming cup of coffee on the side table beside him and the officers’ note open on his knee.
“Good morning!” Bingley said cheerfully. “I half expected you to sleep until noon. We had a late evening.”
Darcy gave a faint smile. “Indeed, it was quite a night.” A rousing and competitive game of billiards had lasted until late. Bingley had finally conceded, so they might go to bed.
He crossed the room, took a seat across from Bingley, and got straight to the point. “Have you responded to the invitation yet?”
Bingley shook his head. “Not yet. I was just debating it. How did you know about it?”
“Your sister. I am here to tell you: do not accept.”
That caught Bingley’s interest. He straightened slightly. “Oh?”
Darcy leaned forward, his voice low. “I overheard Miss Bingley speaking to Mrs. Hurst. She plans to invite Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth to tea while we are gone.”
Bingley’s brows lifted. “Does she?”
“She means to use our absence as an opportunity to study Miss Bennet. In her words, she means to seek out the lady’s weaknesses so she might protectyou.”Darcy did not include what Miss Bingley had said about Miss Elizabeth and her fine eyes. He was not yet ready to share his newfound and growing admiration for the lady. Well, not anyone else. His own words to Miss Bingley had placed him in this situation.
Bingley chuckled. “I must say, Darcy, I have always thought your taste rather excellent. But it seems you are now a mystery to my sister, and she cannot bear a mystery she has not authored herself.”
“She hopes to catch both ladies in some unguarded, unflattering moment,” Darcy said stiffly. “It is beneath her.”
Bingley sipped his coffee and then set it down with a resolute clink. “Well then. Perhaps we should remain at home and save ourselves an evening of forced military cheer.”
“You would not minddeclining?”
“Not in the least. I would much rather pass the evening with the ladies than with a group of half-drunken officers quoting Horace and recounting their regimental victories.”
Darcy smiled—genuinely this time.
“We should not say a word,” Bingley added, grin widening. “Let my sister send her invitation and imagine she has triumphed. Then we may enjoy watching her mask crack when we stroll into the drawing room precisely at tea.”
