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Darcy stared at the board.

Master Edward stared too, apparently scarcely believing his success.

“Did you mean to do that?” Darcy asked. The boy had taken several extra turns, but then, he was six.

Master Edward drew himself up. “Yes.”

Master Henry stopped spinning, though he swayed in place. “What happened?”

“I took Mr. Darcy’s queen.”

The younger boy gasped. “What does that mean?”

Bingley nearly choked. “Good God, Darcy.”

Darcy smiled. “It is not fatal.”

Miss Elizabeth folded the stocking and set it in her work basket. “No. But I believe your position may now be described as endangered.”

Master Edward reached for another piece.

Darcy stopped him. “The game is not over, and it is my turn.”

“Am I winning?”

“No.”

“Am I nearly winning?”

Darcy examined the board. He could take the rook. He could recover the queen in four moves if the boy made the obvious mistake. He could also tell Master Edward exactly why the queen had been vulnerable in the first place.

“No,” Darcy said. “But you are doing considerably better.”

Master Edward beamed.

Miss Elizabeth looked at Darcy. He became aware, quite suddenly, of the silence between them, though the room was not silent at all. He had come to Gracechurch Street because Bingley wished to see Miss Bennet. That explanation had served him well enough for several days, but he did not think it would serve him much longer.

Acknowledging this did not oblige him to act upon it, of course. Nothing about Miss Elizabeth’s family had changed since Netherfield, despite the addition of a few sensible members, and nothing about his own duty had changed either.

If Bingley married Miss Bennet, Darcy would have to sit across from Miss Elizabeth at his friend’s table for the rest of their lives. He had better learn to endure it without wishing for anything more. He would begin on his next visit.

CHAPTER 9

Elizabeth called Jane’s name twice with no response.

Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy had departed. Jane had accompanied them with Aunt Gardiner to the front hall to say her farewells while Elizabeth went to help Miss Bingley in her chamber.

She had then returned to the drawing room to find Jane sitting on the settee and distracted in a way Elizabeth had never seen her.

“Jane?” Elizabeth asked a third time.

Her sister finally turned towards the doorway. “Yes?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Whatever did Mr. Bingley say to you?”

“He told me why he remained in London,” Jane said, and patted the place beside her on the settee.

This gave Elizabeth pause. She had not known they had begun speaking openly about what had happened, but she thought it was a sign that they were making good progress. Jane had grown easier with every call, and Mr. Bingley no longer looked miserable whenever Hertfordshire was mentioned.