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“My goodness, Mr Darcy. I am so relieved that is over.” Miss Bingley greeted Darcy at the door as he entered the foyer at Netherfield after motoring the Bennets back to Longbourn. “Have you ever witnessed such behaviour, such a hullabaloo?”

She took him by the arm and led him to the drawing room. Before Darcy could answer, Bingley bounded through the front door and called to Darcy and his sister, never slowing his step at he approached. “I do believe that is the best Christmas I have ever had in my life, don’t you agree, Darcy?”

Darcy looked from one to the other and said nothing for a moment.

“I believe I’ll have a brandy.” If he was honest with himself, he didn’t know if he agreed with Bingley or his sister, or whether his opinion swung nauseatingly between the two.

In some respects, seeing Elizabeth again was something of a sharp, delicious pain that permeated his entire being: a sweet torture.

He knew he still loved her. How did she feel about him?

He’d felt her yield to his embrace when she danced in his arms, but they were never alone to speak about anything, least of all his letter.

Could he still hope that she might yet be his?

In all probability, he was torturing himself.

She made it quite clear he was the last man in the world she would ever marry.

The servants quietly cleared the card tables in the drawing room, and Caroline sent them away, letting them go to bed.

Darcy glanced over at Bingley. He sat in a wingback chair near the fire, looking like a figure of bygone Victorian days, his countenance awash in happiness.

He was absently swirling a cognac in a snifter.

Darcy took a seat opposite. “You look very pleased with yourself.”

“I asked her to marry me. I’ll speak to her father tomorrow.”

Although Bingley spoke in low tones, his sister cried out from across the room where she had been dealing with the servants. “What? Who?”

Bingley didn’t stir nor raise his voice. “You know very well who, Caroline. I asked

Jane Bennet, and she accepted. I love her. I have for ages.”

Caroline bustled over to Bingley’s chair and peered over the wing. He didn’t raise his gaze to look at her. “Oh, Charles. That family. Are you quite sure?”

He didn’t speak for a moment, and then raised his gaze to hers. “Quite sure. And I don’t know what you mean. I enjoyed her family immensely tonight. Immensely.” He grinned at her like the Cheshire Cat.

She sighed and looked heavenward, exasperated. Then, her face darkened, and she looked pointedly at Darcy. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Darcy studied her scowl for a moment, then directed his attention to his friend. “Congratulations, Charles. I hope you’ll be very happy.”

Caroline looked from one to the other and, harumphing loudly and muttering to herself, left the room.

***

Elizabeth sat trying to read as she half dozed, waiting for Jane to come to bed.

She’d whisked their father off to his study the minute they divested themselves of their coats and hats.

It was after midnight, and with all that had happened that day, Lizzy was exhausted.

Still, she tried to force herself to stay awake.

She suspected that Jane had something exciting to tell her.

Her own situation was much more fraught. The meetings with Mr Darcy throughout the day had been awkward, beginning with surprising him at the pool.

A shudder of desire passed through her.

My god, he looked splendid .

They both were cordial to each other at dinner, and there was so much happy laughter and conversation that she felt at ease in his presence for a time.

That waltz, though. The memory of George and the tango flooded back to her.

George’s animal magnetism and the suggestiveness of the dance couldn’t hold a candle to how Mr Darcy made her feel as she floated along in his arms.

These conflicting thoughts flew about in her mind until Jane alighted in the room and slumped happily on the bed. “Oh, Lizzy. He’s asked me. He’s asked me to marry him.”

Lizzy smiled at her, and then the smile vanished. Jane would leave Selfridges and it would be much more difficult to make ends meet, even at Mrs Clarke’s. Lizzy would be left to mind Lydia alone, which she didn’t relish. And, worst of all, her friend and confidante would be gone.

“Aren’t you happy for me?”

Elizabeth slipped out of bed and hugged Jane as she stood. “Of course, I am, silly girl. I know it is what you wanted. I’m just surprised that it took Mr Bingley this long to propose to you.”

Jane’s face lit up. “I knew you’d understand.”

Elizabeth forced herself to sound nonchalant. “So, will the wedding be soon? Young men usually don’t want to wait.”

Jane sat on the side of the bed and let her hair fall. “He speaks to Father tomorrow, but I have paved the way.”

“So, Papa gave his approval?”

“Papa said that if I’m happy, then he’s happy.

I left it to him to tell Mama. I believe he will leave it until morning so that he can get some sleep.

” She glowed with happiness. “Oh, you asked about the wedding. We’re leaving that until the spring.

Charles…” She seemed to let his name roll off her tongue, savouring it for a moment, “… wants to buy Netherfield and have all the modern conveniences installed so that he can bring me to a perfect home.”

Lizzy didn’t want to appear selfish, but she had to ask. “So, I suppose you will be leaving Selfridges right away, then?”

Jane shook her head. “Oh, no. I couldn’t do that to you and Lydia. No, I’ll stay on for the time being. What would I do here but wait about? I quite like working. I didn’t think I would from the beginning, but I do now. I think I’ll miss it when I marry.”

That was good news. Lizzy had a reprieve, and she helped Jane undo the clasps on her dress before they tucked up in bed. Lizzy leaned over to turn out the light. “I’m happy for you, Jane. Very happy.”

“Thank you.” Jane’s contented sigh drifted over, and Lizzy tried her best to think only of her sister’s happiness and not of herself.

***

After an exciting breakfast where Jane told her younger sisters the news and her mother fluttered about her telling her what a good girl she was, they settled down to a quiet Boxing Day at Longbourn.

Since Netherfield didn’t yet have a telephone, Mr Bingley came after luncheon unannounced. Lizzy wasn’t surprised.

“I do hope I am not disturbing you.” He entered the foyer and handed his hat and coat to Kitty and Mary as he shook off the cold. Mrs Bennet left the drawing room at once to greet the visitor.

Their mother clapped her hands together. “Certainly not. Certainly not, Mr Bingley. We are very happy to see you. Come along to the drawing room and sit by the fire.”

Jane came in to greet him and he took her by her hands and leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Jane coloured immediately.

“Did Mr Darcy not come with you?” Elizabeth tried to be casual.

Charles didn’t take his gaze off Jane. “Oh, no. He and his sister left for Pemberley this morning. They wanted to spend some of the holiday season at home.”

Of course, they did. How stupid of her. She should have spoken to him yesterday when she had the chance. He left without attempting to see her again either. Well, that was that. He was being polite at Christmas and nothing more.

“Come along, girls. Let’s have a cup of tea and Mr Bingley can tell us of all his plans for Netherfield.

” They adjourned to the drawing room, and tea was served.

Mr Bingley was animated in describing the home he would prepare for Jane, and all were mesmerised.

All except Elizabeth. She sat and smiled and tried to pay attention but her missed opportunity to speak with Mr Darcy nagged at her.

***

“Oh, Fitzwilliam, I do so like Miss Elizabeth. She’s such fun. You like her too, I can tell.”

Darcy sighed and settled in the back of the Pierce-Arrow. “You are always inventing romances for me, Georgiana. Please cease and desist.”

“I am not inventing this one, dear brother. I could see the way you looked at her when you were dancing. You love her. Admit it.”

No one would dare to speak to him in such a manner except for his sister.

Most of the time, he felt as a father would towards a daughter, but in times like these, she felt like his sister, his annoyingly perceptive little sister.

He could feel her looking at him, so he took his gaze off the retreating scenery of Hertfordshire and returned her look. “All right. I do admit it.”

“Splendid. Hooray.” She clapped her hands. “You must ask her to marry you at once.”

Darcy looked away and gazed out the window. “I have. She refused me.”

“Oh.” Georgiana’s voice became very small. “Oh,” she said again. They were silent for a time. “I think you should ask her again. She might have changed her mind.”

Darcy said nothing as the landscape flew past in a blur on the way to Pemberley and home.