Page 19 of The Crown’s Gift

Elizabeth looked down at her hands. She had not expected such steel in Bingley.

Darcy stood near the mantel. His expression suggested he had not expected it either.

"You admire your friend's courage," Elizabeth said quietly.

"I admire his justice."

"Are they different?"

"Justice knows the right action. Courage performs it when affection makes silence easier."

Elizabeth looked toward the corridor. "You speak as if from experience."

"Perhaps from failure."

Before she could ask, Bingley returned.

Jane was well enough to leave Longbourn the next morning. Bingley stood at the carriage step until the door closed, his concern unhidden. Caroline sent a polite farewell from the window. Darcy helped Elizabeth into the carriage.

His hand closed around hers through their gloves. The contact was proper, brief, and far more unsettling than the accidental touch above the sewing basket.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said, "I hope your opinion of Longbourn's present inhabitants has not suffered beyond repair."

She looked at Bingley, who was speaking earnestly to Jane through the open door. "Of one inhabitant, it has improved."

Darcy's eyes darkened with amusement and challenge. "Only one?"

"I have not completed my inspection."

He released her hand. "Then I must hope for another visit."

The carriage moved before Elizabeth found an answer.

* * *

The militia came to Meryton in scarlet coats, polished boots, and a cloud of expectations.

Lydia learned of their arrival before breakfast and announced it before grace.

"Colonel Forster has taken the house near the mill, and there are to be thirty officers—perhaps forty—and Aunt Phillips says two are very handsome and one has been to France."

Miss Harwood looked across the table. "How did Mrs Phillips convey this intelligence before eight o'clock?"

Lydia reached for bread. "Kitty told me."

Kitty nearly dropped the sugar tongs. "I did not."

"Then I dreamed it. How extraordinary that Aunt Phillips wore the same green cap in my dream as when she leaned from her carriage at the gate."

Sir Thomas laid down his fork. "Your aunt stopped at the gate?"

Lydia's eyes moved toward the window.

"For no more than a minute."

"And you were where?"

"Near the gate."