His gaze softened, though he turned it aside.
Meanwhile, Bingley had drawn nearer to Jane.
“I hope,” he said, in a lower voice, “that you have been well.”
“Very well, thank you.”
“I feared – I mean – I was concerned that my absence…”
“You had business in town,” she said gently.
“Yes, but I should not have allowed it to detain me so long.”
Jane looked at him then – more… more steadily than before.
“I am glad you are returned,” she said.
The simplicity of it restored him at once.
“And I am very glad to be here,” he replied, with warmth.
Whatever doubts had been raised were not wholly gone, but they no longer governed him.
Their conversation, though quiet, soon became entirely their own.
The others were not insensible to it.
Lydia whispered something to Kitty; Kitty laughed, though she tried to suppress it; Mary watched with composed interest.
Mrs. Bennet, who had entered shortly after, was all satisfaction and movement, though not without a certain effort at restraint.
Darcy, meanwhile, found himself again near Elizabeth.
At first, neither spoke.
He observed her – only briefly – and was confirmed in what he had already suspected.
There was a consciousness in her manner that had not been there before: a slight hesitation, yet not retreat. He could not mistake it.
“You are well this morning?” he said at last.
“Yes, quite well.”
A pause followed.
Elizabeth, who had begun with composure, found it less easy to maintain it under his gaze.
“You find us… altered, perhaps,” she added, with a faint attempt at lightness.
“I find,” he returned, “that I am more particularly observed than usual.”
Elizabeth coloured. “I believe,” she said, lowering her voice, “you must attribute that to me.”
Darcy inclined his head slightly. “I had thought it possible.”
“I could not very well conceal it,” she continued, though not without some embarrassment. “And I have sisters who are not inclined to mystery.”
“No,” he said, with a trace of amusement. “That appears unlikely.”
