Page 58 of What Change Entails

Darcy accepted this with an air of weary resignation. “You perceive now that life in Derbyshire demands constant vigilance.”

“The preservation of cream sauces at dinner?”

“An undertaking of consequence.” His grave delivery betrayed him entirely.

“You endure it heroically.”

“I do what duty requires.”

The answer, combined with the expression he attempted to maintain, sent her into renewed amusement. Darcy exhaled through his nose and directed his attention toward the ceiling with theatrical patience, which improved matters not at all.

Outside, Horace barked furiously.

Lydia’s voice followed: “Traitor! That was my ribbon again.”

Darcy moved toward the window beside her before either was fully aware of it. Below, Lydia pursued the dog through the grass while Georgiana called contradictory advice that neither dog nor girl obeyed.

“They behave like the best of friends already,” Elizabeth murmured.

Darcy rested one hand against the frame. “I did not expect it.”

“Neither did I.”

Elizabeth became abruptly aware of how little space existed between them. Elizabeth shifted back from the window. Darcy stepped aside simultaneously. They both apologized. Then both stopped. A laugh threatened again and complicated everything further.

Elizabeth moved toward some other shelves because they were safer than Mr. Darcy standing close enough for her to catch the scent of cold air and leather lingering upon his coat.

“I ought to return to my aunt,” she said.

“If you wish.”

The answer should not have disappointed her.

She selected the first plausible volume within reach merely to occupy her hands. “May I borrow this?”

Darcy noted the title. “You may borrow anything here except the volume Horace destroyed as a puppy.”

“Was it valuable?”

“Not particularly. Though Bingley insists the dog improved the ending.”

Elizabeth raised her head sharply. “You tease more at Pemberley.”

The words escaped before caution could stop them.

His attention held hers for one difficult moment. “Pemberley suits me better than assemblies.”

Before she could answer, Lydia burst through the open library doors without knocking.

“Lizzy!” she cried. “Miss Darcy says there is a hidden stair behind the old portrait gallery, and I mean to discover it before dinner.”

Georgiana appeared behind her looking apologetic and delighted simultaneously.

Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose. “There is no hidden stair.”

“There must be,” Lydia insisted. “Every proper house has one.”

Darcy shook his head. “Pemberley was unfortunately built without regard for your expectations.”