Page 83 of What Change Entails

Miss Bingley’s knife paused against the toast.

Lydia reached for more jam with open satisfaction.

By eleven o’clock, confinement had become impossible.

Bingley proposed charades.

Mrs. Hurst declined participation instantly and settled herself near the fire with embroidery. Miss Bingley objected to charades as noisy. Lydia declared noise essential to happiness and dragged Georgiana toward the drawing room before resistance could organize itself.

Darcy followed more slowly beside Elizabeth.

Outside the corridor windows, rain swept sideways across the lawns.

“We are to suffer greatly today,” Elizabeth murmured.

“I fear so.”

“Mr. Bingley appears prepared to enjoy himself heroically.”

“He approaches disaster with optimism.”

“That explains your friendship.”

Darcy peered down at her.

Elizabeth’s eyes brightened with the understanding of what she had said, but she did not retreat from it.

That too had changed between them.

In the drawing room, Lydia had already assigned parts.

“This is unfair,” Bingley protested while holding a shawl, a candlestick, and an orange simultaneously. “I cannot portray all three.”

“You must apply yourself.”

“I object to fruit.”

“You are deeply uncooperative.”

Georgiana openly expressed amusement from the sofa.

Darcy watched Miss Bingley hear it.

Miss Bingley’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly each time Georgiana forgot restraint in Lydia’s company. Not outrage. Something colder. Calculation adjusting itself.

The charades deteriorated rapidly.

Mr. Gardiner proved unexpectedly theatrical. Mrs. Gardiner nearly collapsed laughing when Bingley attempted to portray “shipwreck” using a footstool and a blanket. Lydia guessed incorrectly with extraordinary confidence. Georgiana became flushed and breathless from laughing before the second round had ended.

Darcy himself was eventually coerced into participation by Lydia, who announced that Mr. Darcy’s dignity required correction.

“You cannot spend all day leaning against fireplaces looking intelligent,” she informed him.

“I assure you I can.”

“No. You must now portray ‘battle.’”

“I refuse.”