Page 88

“And Kitty?” he asked.

“Very happy. She and her husband are spending Christmas with his family this year. Mamma has written twice to complain of it.”

“Only twice?”

“The festive season is far from over.”

She did not mention Mary, but Darcy had learned that even the middle Bennet, who had once seemed determined to disapprove of everything and everyone, had become almost companionable if one could only wait patiently until she had completed her thought. It took a good while at times, but he thought perhaps she only required more practice.

He had not merely married Elizabeth, he had acquired all of them. But he no longer considered this unfortunate.

“Georgiana wrote too,” Elizabeth said.

That caught his attention. “Today?”

“Yesterday.”

“What did she have to say?”

Elizabeth gave him a knowing look. “Nothing alarming.”

It had been a year since Georgiana’s marriage. It had been one of the most difficult days of his life, giving his sister away. He liked her husband, which was inconvenient, for it would have made more sense to object if he had not.

“She says they will come in February for the churching, if I am recovered enough to receive them.”

“They need not wait until February.”

“Fitzwilliam.”

“I only observe that Pemberley is large.”

“And you miss her.”

Darcy said nothing.

Elizabeth reached down and touched his hand.

Yes, he missed her. Darcy was pleased she was happy and proud of the woman she had become. He would not have wished her life altered in any particular. But he missed finding her at the pianoforte.

“Have you heard from Richard?” Elizabeth asked.

“He is selling his commission.”

Her head came up slightly. “He means to follow through this time?”

“My uncle wrote this morning to inform me.”

“What will he do?”

“He does not yet know.”

Elizabeth settled back. “This will be good for him.”

His cousin had spent most of his adult life in uniform. The war had ended at last, the army was changing, and Richard had begun, in his letters, to sound like a man remaining in one life principally because he had not determined what the next ought to be.

Darcy understood that less than he once would have. Five years ago, he would have produced possibilities: Land. Investments. An estate. Connexions. Introductions.

Now he intended to ask Richard what he wanted. The thought was almost irritatingly virtuous.