Page 116 of What Change Entails

“That is regrettably true.”

“And Miss Darcy promised to teach me how to stand properly.”

Georgiana blinked. “I did?”

“You were about to.”

Bingley stepped forward. “Then I shall assist Miss Elizabeth.”

Miss Bingley’s smile sharpened. “Charles, you have no skill.”

“That has never prevented me from offering instruction.”

Darcy set down his coffee. “Perhaps it would be better to let everyone make a first attempt before assigning instruction. Skill may declare itself unexpectedly.”

“An excellent suggestion,” Elizabeth said. “I have long wished to discover a hidden talent.”

Lydia waved buttered toast in triumph. “There. Lizzy has hidden talent. I have confidence. Miss Darcy has elegance. Mr. Darcy has lawn enough for disaster. We are perfectly arranged.”

“Put down the toast,” Elizabeth said.

“I am gesturing.”

“You are threatening upholstery.”

Lydia surrendered the toast with a sigh.

By late morning, the party gathered upon a stretch of lawn beyond the south terrace where targets had been placed at a respectful distance and servants had brought chairs, refreshments, and enough extra bows to satisfy Bingley’s enthusiasm. The day carried the washed brightness that follows rain: grass gleaming, trees newly green, the gravel paths clean beneath the sun. Horace lay beneath a bench with his nose upon his paws, already barred from active participation by unanimous vote.

Mrs. Gardiner took a shaded chair near Mrs. Hurst, who arranged herself with embroidery and the expression of a woman prepared to endure foolishness. Miss Bingley stood beside Darcy, parasol tilted, examining the bows as if they had personally insulted her.

Elizabeth wore a walking dress of pale muslin trimmed simply at the cuffs. Nothing ostentatious. Nothing that ought to have distracted a man from his duties as host.

Darcy found it distracting anyway.

She raised her brows at him from across the lawn. He devoted an extraordinary amount of attention to the targets.

Bingley clapped his hands together. “Who begins?”

“Lydia,” Elizabeth said instantly.

Lydia blinked. “Why?”

“Because otherwise you will spend the next quarter hour explaining how you intend to excel.”

“Very well. I accept this tribute.”

Mr. Gardiner handed her a bow.

Lydia took it with such confidence that Darcy suspected the heavens themselves might pause to watch her failure.

“Do I simply pull and release?”

“No,” Darcy and Elizabeth said together.

Lydia appeared offended. “How complicated can it be?”

“Famously simple,” Elizabeth replied. “That is why armies employ feathers and string in place of muskets.”