Elizabeth, now composed, laughed lightly. “You attribute far too much consequence to trifles.”
“Trifles are seldom trifles in capable hands,” Mr. Collins replied.
Mr. Bennet intervened dryly. “Cousin, you overwhelm us. Pray allow the roast to recover from such eloquence.”
Mr. Darcy was grateful for Mr. Bennet’s intervention. He did not wish to be reminded that Mr. Collins had decided to wed Miss Elizabeth. Looking at both, he wondered if she knew of her cousin’s intention. Will she accept it? He leant back in his chair at the uncomfortable thought.
The meal proceeded with interruptions and crosscurrents.
Lydia demanded an account of the officers who would attend the ball, and she was sure she would dance with all of them. Her father dryly commented that it would be ladylike to leave some opportunities for others. Kitty seconded her father. Mary attempted to make a moral observation but was not permitted to finish it. Mrs. Bennet narrated how the churchgoers envied their party for having the esteemed gentlemen at the table.
And through it all, Elizabeth moved easily. She quieted Lydia with a glance. She diverted Collins without cruelty. She supplied her father with bread before he asked. She laughed – but not at the expense of others.
Darcy found himself watching her more than he intended. This was not the ordered dignity of Pemberley. It was less measured. Less restrained. And yet – it was alive.
He had expected to endure the visit. He did not.
He looked around the table; the voices blurred into a low hum. What he saw was a family – irregular, certainly – yet not without order. Mrs. Bennet had remembered her husband’s favourite dish. The younger girls spoke freely, if a little too loudly, but without constraint. The elder daughters restored balance without display. They were not perfect. Yet there was harmony in it – and affection. He found, to his surprise, that he did not object.
It was at that moment that he noticed Elizabeth looking at him.
She had been speaking to Jane, but something in his stillness must have caught her attention. Her eyes lingered upon him with open curiosity. It was not the challenging look of Netherfield – and, to his surprise, he almost regretted its absence. He realised too late that his expression must have betrayed more reflection than he intended.
“You seem very grave, Mr. Darcy,” she said lightly, though the remark was meant for him alone. “Are we so formidable a spectacle?”
There it was – that look of challenge. She kept testing him. He straightened slightly. “On the contrary.”
“Then I am relieved. I know we are not what you call a refined company, but…”
“I hope I have not given you cause to suppose that my comfort depends upon ceremony.”
“No, no. I do not know why I said it.”
“Hospitality requires no pedigree, Miss Elizabeth. Your family has shown me every civility. I could hardly wish for more.”
“There is a good variety of cheeses to choose from. Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, have a look.” They heard Mrs. Bennet offering the delicacies.
“You are very generous, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth continued.
“Not at all.” He hesitated, as though he had not meant to speak further. “I was actually considering my sister.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.
“Most of the time, it is just the two of us. She has no company other than her companion, but that is not the same.” He gestured toward the other Bennet ladies. “If she had been raised in a big family, maybe, she would be much more… confident.”
Elizabeth regarded him more thoughtfully now.
“I am not certain numbers produce confidence,” she said gently. “But if numbers produce confidence, Lydia has more than her share.”
A faint smile touched his mouth before he suppressed it. “Maybe.”
“But I understand what you mean,” she continued. “There is something in noise and interruption that prevents too much self-consciousness.” She considered him further. “Sheis fortunate,” Elizabeth said at last, “to have a brother who considers her so carefully.”
He did not answer at once.
The compliment was simple, almost unadorned, and it meant more to him than she knew. He could not think of Georgiana without recalling how near he had come to failing her, and how narrowly that failure had been averted.
“I do only what is expected of me,” he said.
