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“I shall endeavour to obey.”

“Obedience is not sufficient. You must actually sleep.”

Elizabeth smiled and took up her basket. She was tired enough to think the instruction might prove easier than the others.

Chapter Forty-Eight

CHARLES STOOD OUTSIDE his wife’s door with his hand upon the latch.

Darcy saw him as he returned from the nursery. He had said good night to Anna some time before, but Ruth had needed a cloth which lay beyond her reach, and afterward the child had caught his finger and objected to giving it up. He had remained until she tired of him. It was becoming an agreeable means of delaying his own bedtime.

Charles did not open the door.

“Is something wrong?” Darcy asked.

His friend turned. “No. She is asleep.”

Darcy waited.

“I was going to see whether she wanted anything.”

“While she sleeps?”

Charles let go of the latch. “Yes. That is the difficulty.”

He attempted a smile. Darcy recognized the effort and came nearer.

“Will you come downstairs for a little while?”

“I ought not to keep you from bed.”

“I had no immediate intention of going.”

That was not quite true, but he discovered no regret for the altered plan. Charles looked once more at the door and followed him.

The library fire had been banked for the night. Darcy stirred it enough to give them light and a little more warmth, then moved a chair nearer for his friend. His hand had healed sufficiently to tolerate ordinary use, though a strong grip still reminded him of the cut. He set the poker down before Charles could notice the change in his grasp.

“Will you have something?”

“No. Thank you.”

Charles sat, then rose to move his chair a few inches away from the fire. He had not settled comfortably anywhere all that Monday evening. At dinner he had begun a story of the Alderbrook agent and lost interest in it before reaching the end. Jane had touched his hand and supplied the missing conclusion, receiving his gratitude with a smile which said she noticed more than he wished her to.

Darcy took the other chair.

For a little while Charles stared at the flames.

“Mrs. Talbot says all is as it ought to be.”

“I am glad.”

“So am I.” Charles rubbed a hand across his forehead. “I was so glad when she said it that I asked whether she was quite certain.”

Darcy could imagine the midwife’s answer. Mrs. Talbot had already proved herself capable of resisting several incompatible instructions from Mrs. Bennet without losing either her patience or her authority.

“She told me what she could tell me,” Charles continued. “Very plainly. I have no complaint to make of her.”

“No one supposed that you had.”