Page 2 of The Briar Bargain (The Rom Com Collection #3)

"Darcy, what do you think?” Mr. Bingley inquired. “A day? Two?"

Elizabeth already knew. She closed her eyes.

Mr. Darcy turned back to face the room, his expression stony. "With a storm of this magnitude? Possibly a week or more."

"A week!" Miss Bingley's voice reached a pitch that made even her brother wince.

Mrs. Hurst clutched at the pearl pendant on her necklace. "A week in this wilderness with no possibility of visiting or having visitors! Charles, this is intolerable. What shall we do? My nerves cannot endure such isolation."

All Meryton, including Longbourn and the village, were on the other side of the river. If Miss Bingley wished for visitors, she would need to seek them out from Hertford.

Elizabeth sighed inwardly. Another seven days of Miss Bingley's barely concealed contempt. Seven more nights sleeping under the same roof as Mr. Darcy, whose presence she found . . . unpleasant.

Mr. Hurst snorted, his attention fully diverted to refilling his coffee as he spoke to Miss Bingley.

"You have an instrument. There are plenty of cards and billiards to be played.

And the cellar is well stocked," he remarked, the prospect of enforced leisure with abundant refreshment obviously rather agreeable to him.

“The rain certainly shows no sign of stopping,” Mr. Bingley said .

Elizabeth stared out at the storm as though it had personally affronted her. Could it not have held off until they had reached Longbourn? Was that so very much to ask?

Mr. Darcy met her eyes from his position near the window. There was something in his expression she could not quite name, something cool and uncertain. Disappointment, perhaps. Or even dread.

Whatever he was feeling, Elizabeth suspected it was not complimentary.

Mr. Hurst harrumphed, then belched quietly behind his napkin, earning a look of withering contempt from his wife.

It was enough. Elizabeth stood. “I must see to Jane,” she said by way of excusing herself from the room. Once in the hall, she allowed her composure to slip for just a moment. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and released a quiet sigh.

"Miss Elizabeth?"

She straightened immediately, opening her eyes to find Mr. Bingley standing before her.

"Forgive me, Mr. Bingley.”

"No need for apologies," he said kindly. "This is a dreadful inconvenience for you and Miss Bennet, I am afraid. I only followed you to say that you must both consider yourself quite at home here with us.”

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, touched by his sincerity but aware that neither his family nor his friend felt the same. "You are very kind."

"Not at all," he said, looking suddenly bashful. "I only hope . . . that is, I trust your sister will continue to improve, despite this setback. I was concerned that joining us last night might not have been wise."

It was a very poor attempt to be subtle, but it made Elizabeth like Mr. Bingley even more.

"She is very well today," Elizabeth assured him .

He smiled. “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.” He sighed.

“I suppose we shall have to put off the ball after all. There is no telling when it will be safe to travel.” Then he straightened, as though remembering himself.

"Please let me know if there is anything at all that would make your stay more comfortable. "

"A sturdy boat, perhaps?" Elizabeth suggested, unable to resist.

Bingley laughed. "I shall see what can be arranged. Good day, Miss Elizabeth."

As he walked away, Elizabeth felt her spirits lift ever so slightly. At least one member of the household seemed genuinely pleased by their presence.

She turned and headed for the stairs, intent on breaking the news to Jane. As she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with Mr. Darcy, who was exiting the breakfast room from the second door.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy! I do beg your pardon."

He stepped back, his expression momentarily unguarded. There was surprise, followed by something that might have been pleasure, quickly masked by his usual reserve.

Watching him was dizzying.

"No apology necessary, Miss Elizabeth. I was not attending."

An awkward silence fell between them.

"I was heading upstairs to inform Jane of our extended visit," she said at last.

"Ah. Yes. Most unfortunate."

Her hands squeezed into fists at her side. She would not be impolite. She would not. "Indeed. Though I am confident we shall all survive the ordeal."

His brow furrowed slightly. "I hope you do not consider Netherfield's hospitality an ordeal, Miss Bennet. "

"Not at all," she assured him, though she believed he could hear the lack of conviction in her voice. "I merely meant the circumstances are . . .” She paused to remind him of his own words. “Unfortunate."

"Yes. Quite." He hesitated, as though about to say more, then inclined his head and stepped aside to let her pass.

With a nod, she continued on her way, feeling strangely unsettled by the encounter. By the time she reached Jane’s chamber, she had pushed such thoughts aside. She had more important concerns than the mysterious moods of Mr. Darcy.