Page 191 of What Change Entails

A mention of tenant improvements reminded him of a conversation beside the lake.

A note regarding repairs recalled her observations about village cottages.

One report mentioned geese.

That was all Lydia’s fault.

Darcy abandoned the papers.

Outside, the countryside rolled past beneath a sky deepening toward night.

He thought of Elizabeth standing in the entrance hall that morning.

Then we shall expect you.

Simple words.

Nothing improper or remarkable, yet he had carried them through the entire day.

Tonight.The promise resounded once more.

This time it produced something dangerously close to anticipation.

For the first time in years, he found himself looking forward rather than backward.

Forward to conversation, companionship, and to seeing one particular woman lift her eyes and smile when he entered a room.

The realization ought to have embarrassed him; rather, it left him unexpectedly content.

The boundary dispute would be resolved and legal correspondence would be handled. The estate would continue. All of it mattered. And none of it occupied the foremost place in his thoughts.

That place belonged fully to Elizabeth Bennet.

If fortune proved kind, he would be back at Pemberley before the night was over.

Elizabeth discovered, within an hour of Mr. Darcy’s departure, that missing a gentleman was not a dignified occupation.

It had no useful employment attached to it. One could not sew it into a neat hem, copy it into a letter, or press it between the pages of a book and pretend it had been managed. It simply remained where it pleased, interfering with ordinary thought and giving every room an air of expectation.

She was annoyed with herself.

Then she remembered the way Mr. Darcy had looked at her in the hall before leaving, and the annoyance became far less persuasive.

Mrs. Gardiner noticed, of course.

Her aunt had the alarming gift of appearing occupied with needlework while absorbing every movement within a room. Elizabeth had scarcely turned a page of her book before Mrs. Gardiner laid aside her thread and regarded her over the top of her work basket.

“My dear, I believe the author would be gratified by such devotion.”

Elizabeth’s eyes lowered. The book lay open in her lap. She had not read a single sentence since sitting down.

“Very profound,” she said. “I am taking time to digest it.”

“You have been upon the same page since luncheon.”

“That is how one knows it is profound.”

Mrs. Gardiner’s mouth twitched.