Page 16 of Twice Chosen

Darcy's heart reacted with humiliating speed.

Bingley grinned.

"Go to bed," Darcy said.

"Happily."

When the door closed, Darcy sat alone and wondered how many more days he could endure uncertainty before simply asking Elizabeth whether she remembered dying in his arms.

Chapter Four

Familiar Strangers

Elizabeth did not sleep.

She lay staring into the darkness while Lydia snored faintly in the room down the corridor and considered every possible explanation.

Darcy had asked about apricot preserve. Odd. Not impossible. Then the coffee. She had done that deliberately, a test born before thought. Young Fitzwilliam Darcy drank black coffee. Her husband, after suffering a stomach complaint at forty-two, had begun adding cream. Elizabeth had teased him for years.

The man at the assembly had looked as though she had recited his bank accounts.

That did not prove anything. People changed their coffee habits. He could have--

No.

He had not even been drinking coffee when she said it.

Elizabeth covered her face. "Impossible."

Jane murmured from the next bed, "What?"

Elizabeth froze. They were sharing while Aunt Phillips and two cousins occupied other rooms after the assembly.

"Nothing."

"You have said 'impossible' three times."

"Have I?"

"Yes." Jane turned toward her. Moonlight caught her face. "Does this concern Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth nearly groaned. "Why?"

"He stared at you."

"Mr. Darcy stares at everyone."

"No." Jane smiled. "He looked at everyone. He stared at you."

Elizabeth was silent.

Jane continued, "And you kept smiling at him."

"I found him amusing."

"Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes."