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“Did Mr. Bingley secure a dance with you at the ball?”

“Yes, the second.”

“And Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

“The first.”

“And Mr. Darcy?”

Elizabeth felt heat in her cheeks as she smiled. “The supper set.”

“It is worth noting that Mr. Bingley asked both of us, the colonel asked us and Caroline - Mr. Darcy only asked you.”

“How do you know this?”

“I heard Caroline and Miss Darcy speaking of it at Matlock House. Miss Darcy was keenly interested in the ball; she was shocked that neither her cousin nor her brother had asked Caroline for dances yet, and the colonel instantly obliged. Mr. Darcy did not seem to even hear them, for he was staring at you.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth leaned back against the plush pillows of the welcome, familiar bed. “Oh.”

Jane smiled enigmatically before snuffing out the candle. “We both have much to think upon.”

And that is all Elizabeth could do for several hours.

She thought of how Mr. Darcy had included her in his book exchange with Miss Darcy, how he had even bought the books she recommended that day in the shop, and was eager to discuss their novel.

She thought of how he had sought her out to apologize, how even his explanation of his sister’s incivility had seemed to be as much for her easement as Jane’s.

Above all, she thought of how startlingly charming he had been as he smiled at her, how astonishing his teasing had been.

She resolved to observe Caroline closely, and with impartiality. She yet feared daring to hope, for Mr. Darcy was so far above her own situation in life. But he was, she now began to realize, exactly the sort of gentleman best suited to herself.

***

Caroline was in the library, not huddled near the listening spot, but on the window seat that overlooked the back garden.

She stared out into the waning moonlight as icy rain began to patter the windowpanes, and drew her thick shawl tighter around herself as tears fell down her cheeks and onto her chest.

She shrank back as she heard the sounds of the gentlemen bidding each other good night in the corridor outside the billiard room, and kicked over the candle she had set on the floor beside her perch.

A silhouette appeared in the doorway, not thin enough to be her brother, nor as tall as Mr. Darcy. She shuddered.

There was a jaunty laugh as he moved closer. “Spying again? I had hoped you would; I sang Miss Elizabeth’s praises to Darcy very prettily, did I not?”

Caroline contorted her face. Either Louisa had told him, or… or Mr. Darcy somehow knew that Caroline had eavesdropped on him that evening. And he had spoken in such a way. More silent tears began to flow.

The colonel crossed the room, stalking like a cat toying with its prey. There was enough moonlight that she could barely see him sweep his gaze over her, and then he offered her a handkerchief as he sat down beside her.

Caroline reached out, hesitated, and then finally accepted it and dabbed at her face, which grew flush with mortification. She stared back at him, willing him to speak into the unnerving silence, for she knew not how to account for herself.

“Tell me,” was all he said, his breathy whisper hanging in the air between them.

“Louisa and I had a row and when she would not leave me in peace, I stormed out of my own bedroom. Hateful shrew!”

“I had thought you two thick as thieves.”

Caroline bit back a petulant retort that he knew nothing of her. “We make a good show of it in company - family reputation.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Do you wish me to ask what was the manner of your dispute?”

“You must have seen how she encouraged Miss Darcy’s behavior to Charles at supper.”

“I have seen you do the same, in the past.”

“Then I am sorry for it. I like Jane, I should wish for such a sister.”

“Fascinating,” he said, playful and sincere and inexplicably vexing. “So you quarreled over this?”

“Did you know that she wrote to Miss Darcy, urging her to ask her brother to join us here? Louisa vowed before we departed Netherfield that she meant to thwart all my plans.”

There was a loaded pause, and then the colonel asked, “Would you have preferred your brother to pursue Miss Bennet over Georgiana if you had not overheard a certain conversation?”

Caroline stared into the space between herself and the colonel as she considered what his good opinion meant to her. Softly, she said, “No.”

He laughed. “Who are you, and what have you done with Miss Bingley?”

“I have attempted to improve her.”

“And you have done such a splendid job of it that your sister despises you for your shining success.”

Caroline shook her head. “She has her own reasons.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam let out a throaty noise of intrigue. “Oh? Pray, what great wrong have you done her?”

“I refused to marry Mr. Hurst.” Caroline smiled bitterly into the silence as she savored his shock.

“So you have always been wise.”

“I cannot say if it was wisdom that compelled me; it may have been foolishness.”

“You sphinx, you wicked cat, so determined to be mysterious. Sit here in the dark with me and divulge your secrets - it may do you some good,” he teased her.

A burst of startled laughter escaped her lips before she raised her fingertips to silence herself. And yet, she was intrigued at the notion of the merry colonel entertaining a serious conversation.

“I met Mr. Darcy informally a few times when he and Charles were at Cambridge together. I was Miss Darcy’s age.

I was as impressed by him as anyone might be.

I came out a year later; my debut was not the success my mother had hoped.

The following season, my only prospect was Mr. Hurst, whom we believed to be a worthy and wealthy man. But he was still… as you find him.”

The colonel tutted with appreciative disgust. “Not the most alluring beau.”

“I am not romantic, but I wished to wed for pride if not for love, to have a husband I could respect and esteem. When I refused to let him court me, my mother was very angry. Louisa had just come out that year, and though it was expected that I would marry first, my mother put Louisa forward as an alternative. It was all the same to Mr. Hurst, apparently, and such an attitude on his part did little to engender affection between them. And then it was discovered that he had impoverished himself through so many indulgent habits. Louisa had wed him for nothing, and she believes it ought to have been me.”

“It is not foolish to wish to marry for a minimum of respect and regard, though I will say that you are worthy of far more.”

Caroline gave a pinched smile at his compliment.

“That is not the foolish part. Charles was often at Pemberley, when he had breaks from school; your cousin was in mourning. And then Charles wrote to me to tell me that when next he was in London, he wished to introduce me to a friend of his, for he believed us well-suited in disposition. When he said that the gentleman was of good breeding, but required a wealthy wife, I consented to meet the friend, for I knew he meant Mr. Darcy. And that is the real reason I rejected Mr. Hurst, why I have never felt the slightest interest in any other man since. At first I supposed that his grief prevented him from pursuing an attachment; other delusions followed, over the years, but for as long as I have held out hope, Louisa has wished me to fail.”

“I remember the year after Uncle George died. I had not yet taken my commission, and I spent much of my time between Pemberley and Matlock. I saw Charles a few times. I remember well when Darcy’s mourning was up and Charles wished us all to go to London, and the conversation about his beautiful, accomplished copper-haired sister.

He spoke of your strong and prickly poise , a fair assessment - he said that you would suit a man prone to wicked japes and nettlesome whims.”

Caroline sat still, heat and ice churning together inside her. “And you were so impudent when first we met - and ever since.”

“And I ever shall be - you have borne it bewitchingly enough, but you ought to think of paying me back in kind.” He stood and wrapped his hand around hers, closing her fingers around his handkerchief as he bent and grazed his lips over her knuckles. “A token.”

And then he stalked from the room as lithely as he had entered it, leaving her clutching the handkerchief to her heart as she wondered whether paying him back in kind meant vexing him, or seriously entertaining him as a prospect.