Page 110 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

The party moved into the drawing room. Bingley had not been there five minutes before he was beside Jane, asking after her morning, her music, her walk, and whether the lane by Lucas Lodge had recovered from the last rain. The questions were trifling, but the attention was not. Jane answered with her usual composure, but the color in her cheeks remained, and her eyes lifted to his often.

Elizabeth watched them with a tenderness made sharper by fear. Jane guarded herself even in happiness. She still spoke as if nothing was decided, as if Mr. Bingley's preference might be kindness and her own pleasure mere gratitude. Yet her restraint could not conceal the truth from one who loved her. Jane was happy because Bingley was near, and he was happy because she was.

Caroline drew Mary into a conversation about music, and though her manner did not call for a reply, Mary supplied one anyway. Hurst settled near the fire, while Louisa observed Bingley with an attention stripped of its former indulgence. She no longer seemed to regard his interest in Jane as a passing enthusiasm.

Darcy stood near the mantel, speaking with Bennet. Elizabeth heard the words “lease” and “roads,” followed by her father’s dry response to something about county management. Darcy listened without impatience, which made him more difficult to dismiss.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Caroline said, after Mary's opinion on Italian songs had carried them farther than she wished to go, “I understand you were in Meryton this week. You must find the town a great resource in the country.”

“It has its uses.”

“No doubt. A milliner, a circulating library, and a regiment provide ample entertainment.”

Lydia, who heard only the part that interested her, said, “The regiment supplies the most.”

“So I have heard,” Caroline said.

Kitty lowered her eyes. Elizabeth saw Darcy's glance move, not to Kitty with blame, but to Caroline with warning. It was slight and gone at once. Caroline either missed it or chose to ignore it.

“We are fortunate in our officers,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Such agreeable young men, though some are more attentive than others.”

Elizabeth wished her mother had left the subject alone. Caroline's attention sharpened.

“Indeed? Has Hertfordshire found fault with its officers?”

“Mama means nothing,” Jane said.

“I mean that when young men say they will call, they should,” Mrs. Bennet replied, unwilling to let the matter go.

Bingley looked from Jane to Elizabeth, then to Darcy. “Has someone failed to call?”

“No one worth naming,” Elizabeth said.

Darcy’s eyes met hers, but he asked nothing. Elizabeth was grateful, which annoyed her.

Mrs. Hill announced dinner before Mrs. Bennet answered. Bingley offered Jane his arm with an ease that looked accidental to no one. Darcy sat beside Elizabeth, though Mrs. Bennet had likely intended only to honor the wealthiest guest and had not considered the consequence to her second daughter.

At the table, Bingley’s attention to Jane became impossible to mistake. He watched her glass, shifted a favored dish within reach, noticed when the candle troubled her eyes, and spared her the worst of Mrs. Bennet’s praise, though none of it seemed deliberate. Jane thanked him with fewer words than usual, and Elizabeth understood the reason.

Caroline set down her fork before speaking. “Charles, you seem acquainted with Miss Bennet’s preferences.”

“I hope I know a few of them,” Bingley replied. “One should learn what pleases one’s friends.”

“Friends,” Caroline repeated, with a smile for Jane. “A most useful word that covers so many kinds of attachment.”

Louisa looked at her. “And a harmless one.”

Caroline's smile hardened. “Of course. I meant only that Charles is generous in applying it.”

Hurst, occupied with the fish, said, “It is better to be generous than suspicious.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said nothing against you, Caroline. Friendship is harmless when dinner is good and nobody asks me to dance.”

Bennet appeared amused. Bingley laughed, and Jane’s answering smile drew Caroline’s attention. Elizabeth noticed the change in her expression, and so did Louisa.

The first disaster Caroline feared was plain enough. Bingley was not amusing himself, or trying on a country admiration for a season before returning to London and sense. His regard for Jane had settled into habit, and that, in a man so open and affectionate, was close to intention.