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“Mr. Bingley, have you something to ask me?”

Bingley immediately lost some of his confidence.

“Of course. May I speak with you now?”

“I think you had better.”

Bingley strode through the door before Mr. Gardiner, who winked at his wife before he followed.

Miss Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, and he could only smile at the mischief in her countenance.

“My uncle likes him,” she said.

“I am not certain that matters in a situation such as this.”

Bingley returned twenty minutes later with Mr. Gardiner behind him. Mr. Gardiner crossed to Jane, took both her hands, and kissed her forehead.

“I shall write to your father at once. If you would like to include a note, you should pen it.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Miss Bennet said.

“I believe,” Mr. Gardiner added, “that your father may wish to have a word with you himself before everything is settled.”

“Of course.”

“But I see no reason for anyone in this house to pretend surprise.”

Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Elizabeth laughed. Miss Bennet blushed again, and Darcy found himself wondering what Miss Elizabeth’s blush would look like.

The engagement changed the atmosphere. Bingley and Miss Bennet attempted to make polite conversation and failed, for they were forever losing themselves in one another.

Wine was brought up, and Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Elizabeth walked down the hall to invite Miss Bingley to join the celebration.

Miss Bingley entered carefully and settled upon the chaise with only two pillows. Bingley went to her almost at once. He handed her a glass of wine, which she accepted with a small smile.

“Caro,” he said, beaming, “I have news.”

“Oh,” Miss Bingley said.

Bingley’s smile faltered, and Darcy braced himself.

Miss Bingley took a deep breath and said, very steadily, “I wish you both happy.”

Miss Bennet smiled. “Thank you, Miss Bingley.”

Bingley was so relieved that his sister frowned at him.

“Do not stare at me like that, Charles.”

“I am not staring,” Bingley protested, though he very clearly was.

“You are.”

His friend chuckled and shook his head. “I am pleased, that is all.”

Miss Bingley had not looked at Darcy since the afternoon when he had identified her injury. For as long as he had known her, she had always arranged things so that she would be in his path without appearing to have done anything of the sort. He would not have believed that such a small embarrassment would cause her to eschew his company, but whatever hopes she might have had in regards to him or, more like, to Pemberley, had been quietly set aside. Darcy could not be sorry, only a little ashamed of how relieved he was.

She had not become a different woman. She still proceeded to complain about the chaise, correct her brother when he spoke too loudly, and wince when the Gardiner children entered.