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“Perhaps later, then.”

“Perhaps.”

Caroline accepted the answer and returned to Miss Westcott. Darcy noticed that she had invited Elizabeth once, politely, and had not pressed the refusal into a subject for the room. He would have found the evening easier if she had behaved badly. That reflection did him little credit.

At supper she kept the conversation moving whenever it threatened to settle into two gentlemen discussing drains. She remembered a sister of Mrs. Westcott’s whom she had met in town, and asked about her with enough particular knowledge to prove the question sincere. When Jane grew tired, Caroline proposed returning to the drawing room without announcing the reason.

Darcy drew back Jane’s chair while Charles offered his wife an arm.

Elizabeth caught his eye across the table. Her mouth curved a little.

“You may assist me, if you have any attention remaining,” she said.

He offered his arm. She took it lightly, careful of the bandaged hand he held near his waistcoat.

“Have you been comfortable?” he asked as they followed the others.

“Very. Miss Bingley has arranged everything well.”

There was no reluctance in the acknowledgment. He liked Elizabeth for making it, then wondered whether he had become absurd enough to admire her for admitting what everybody could see.

“I am glad,” he said.

“And how is your hand?”

“Improving.”

“You have not attempted all your correspondence at once?”

“I have attempted very little of it.”

“An answer which may conceal a great deal.”

“It conceals three letters, none of them long.”

“Then I shall be satisfied.”

At the drawing-room door she released his arm and went to sit beside Mrs. Westcott. Their brief exchange had altered the evening for him. He would have liked to follow her, hear what she said next, and discover whether she looked for him when the music began.

Caroline called his name.

“Will you be good enough to turn for me, Mr. Darcy? This book will not remain open.”

He went to the instrument. She had chosen a piece he knew and liked. He could turn the leaves with his left hand, though the task required more attention than usual, and Caroline waited whenever the paper resisted him.

“Do not hurry,” she said softly. “I can hold the phrase.”

She played very well. Darcy listened with real pleasure, and thanked her when she finished. Miss Westcott followed with her own selection; Caroline moved to make room, found the correct page for her, and sat beside the instrument where she could assist if needed.

It was precisely the sort of evening Caroline wished Pemberley to offer. Darcy could imagine many more like it: agreeable neighbours, accomplished music, the household managed without any difficulty he would be required to notice. She possessed the ability to arrange such a life and the inclination to share it with him.

He had known that for a long time.

During the last piece he looked across the room and found Elizabeth listening with her head slightly turned. Jane rested against Charles’s shoulder. Sir lay at their feet, his dignity surviving the fact that one of his ears had turned inside out.

Darcy wanted Elizabeth to see the dog. Before he could catch her eye, she looked down, smiled, and reached to put the ear right.

He was still watching her when the music ended.