Page 195

“You have borne a great deal with us here,” he said.

“I invited you.”

“You cannot have expected all of this.”

Darcy looked about the room. Jane’s book lay upon one table. Mr. Bennet had left a folded paper beside another, with a pencil marking the place he meant to dispute in the morning. Elizabeth’s workbasket stood near the chair she preferred. There were more possessions than Darcy had left there himself, and he no longer wished them returned to their proper owners the instant an evening ended.

“No,” he said. “I expected rather less pleasure from it.”

Charles looked at him.

“You ought to have invited us sooner.”

“Perhaps.”

“I should have come.”

“I know.”

They sat quietly for a little while. Darcy thought of the letter Charles had sent after Georgiana’s death, offering company which Darcy refused because he could not imagine enduring it. He had believed he spared his friend an uncomfortable visit. He might merely have denied them both the sort of hour they were spending now.

Charles broke the silence.

“If I become very foolish when the time comes, will you tell me?”

“I have rarely required an invitation.”

“Yes, but I should prefer that you did it where Jane cannot hear.”

“I shall do my best.”

“And if I ask whether we ought to send for somebody whom we have already sent for—”

“I shall remind you.”

“You will be very patient?”

“I shall attempt it. You must allow me to be imperfect at something.”

Charles smiled. “That is a generous concession to ask of a friend.”

“It is one you have made before.”

Darcy rose to put a little more wood upon the fire. Charles did not jump up to assist or take the movement as a signal that the conversation must end. He remained in the chair, watching until Darcy sat again.

“Stay a little longer,” he said.

“I am staying.”

Another quarter of an hour passed before Charles stood. He looked less certain that every minute away from Jane constituted a neglect of her safety.

“I shall tell her in the morning,” he said. “That I am afraid, I mean. She will be kinder about it than I deserve.”

“She generally is.”

Charles nodded and went toward the door. There he paused, his hand resting upon the frame.

“Thank you.”