Page 49 of The Briar Bargain (The Rom Com Collection #3)

The fish counters distributed, the cards were dealt, and the first hand commenced.

Elizabeth found herself slipping into the rhythm of the game more easily than she had expected.

Whist required both strategy and acute observation, for the game demanded attention to what had been played, careful calculation of odds, and the ability to communicate with one's partner through the language of card selection.

What surprised her was how naturally she and Mr. Darcy seemed to fall into harmony.

Within the first few tricks, she began to sense the logic behind his plays, the careful strategy that guided his selections.

When she led with a low spade, testing the waters, he responded immediately with the jack, indicating both support for the suit and confidence in her judgement.

When he played the queen of hearts in an apparently risky gambit, she trusted his reasoning and supported it with her ace, earning them a crucial trick and a small nod of approval from her partner.

Mr. Hurst, as it turned out, was a wildly unpredictable partner for his wife.

He played with tremendous enthusiasm but also a curious relationship to the established rules of the game.

His strategy appeared to be based more on optimism than calculation, and his card selection followed principles known only to himself.

"My dear," Mrs. Hurst said gently after her husband had attempted to claim a trick with a card that bore no relation to the suit led, "I believe you must follow suit when possible."

Mr. Hurst examined his card with the air of a man making a fascinating discovery. "Must I? How very restrictive. I had rather hoped we might embrace a spirit of innovation."

"Innovation is admirable in many pursuits," said Mr. Darcy with the exquisite dryness that Elizabeth was coming to adore, "but whist has survived several centuries with its current rules more or less intact. Perhaps we might defer the revolution until after this hand?"

"You have no vision, Darcy," Mr. Hurst declared with dignity. "No appreciation for creative interpretation. "

Mrs. Hurst laughed, clearly not at all displeased with her husband's unconventional approach. "He always attempts to invent a new game when he finds himself losing."

"I do not lose," Mr. Hurst announced. "I merely play with greater imagination than the rest of you. Imagination, I might add, that is shamefully undervalued in this house."

Elizabeth could not entirely suppress her smile.

Mr. Darcy proved to be an attentive and encouraging partner.

When she executed a particularly clever finesse, drawing out Mrs. Hurst's king with a carefully timed low card, he offered quiet approval.

When she made a questionable play early in the second hand, leading into Mrs. Hurst's obvious strength, he covered her mistake without comment and adjusted his own strategy to compensate.

"You read the cards well, Miss Elizabeth," he said during a brief pause between hands. "Your father taught you, I suppose?"

"Indeed, though I suspect I learned as much from watching him lose to my mother," she replied as she looked over her hand.

"Mamma may claim that cards overset her nerves, but she possesses an uncanny ability to divine what everyone else holds.

Papa says it is because she assumes everyone is plotting against her, which in whist is actually sound strategy. "

"A pragmatic approach," Mr. Darcy told her. "Though I imagine it makes for interesting family games."

"Interesting is certainly one word for it," Elizabeth said, and then paused briefly before saying " Gladiatorial might be another."

She relished the way Mr. Darcy’s eyes sought the ceiling.

As the game progressed, Elizabeth found herself carefully watching her partner.

When Mrs. Hurst expressed uncertainty about a particular play, he offered gentle guidance.

When Mr. Hurst's creative interpretations threatened to derail the game entirely, Mr. Darcy redirected with patient good humour rather than sharp correction.

It was, quite simply, the most enjoyable card game she had ever played.

"That was lovely," she said when the time to prepare for dinner arrived. She rose from her chair as Mr. Darcy moved to assist her. "Though I suspect we shall need to invest in a more comprehensive rule book if Mr. Hurst's interpretations of them continue to multiply."

"I hope you will join us another time, Miss Elizabeth," said Mrs. Hurst with apparent sincerity. "You and Mr. Darcy make formidable partners. I fear my husband and I shall need to improve our play if we hope to maintain our dignity."

"You are too clever by half," added Mr. Hurst with cheerful resignation.

Elizabeth smiled, acutely aware of Mr. Darcy's presence beside her as he waited to escort her from the room. "I should be very happy, though you shall have to apply to Mr. Darcy for his part."

The courtesies of departure were observed with proper ceremony, and Elizabeth found herself walking alongside Mr. Darcy.

"You play exceedingly well," he said quietly as they neared the drawing room door. "I have rarely encountered a partner so quick to grasp strategy."

"You are too kind," she replied, though the compliment warmed her more than it should have. "I confess I found the game far more engaging than I had anticipated. It has been some time since I encountered either opponents or a partner who provided such a lively game."

Their eyes met briefly, and Elizabeth felt that now-familiar shiver of awareness that seemed to accompany her every interaction with him. Before she could examine the feeling too closely, they had reached the stairs, and the moment passed.

Elizabeth climbed the stairs, her mind spinning in confusion.

How strange, that in so short a time her heart should have been entirely overthrown.

Had it truly happened so swiftly? A treacherous little voice whispered that perhaps the seeds had been sown from the first moments she saw Mr. Darcy enter the assembly.

She had told herself that he was not worth her regret, but the way he had struck a bargain with her to keep her safe, the steadfast way he had fulfilled it more generously, more attentively than she had ever imagined he might—it had all changed the way she saw him.

And she had to admit that knowing he had saved her from the river, had saved her when she could not save herself . . .

The day’s events had only deepened the impression. His assistance. The way his strong hand had felt on her back. The way he had appeared behind Mr. Bingley to end Miss Bingley’s haranguing of Jane. The way their minds had moved together with an unspoken accord during whist.

The truth pressed upon her now with a force she could no longer deny. She believed Mr. Darcy was the one man she could honestly love. That she might love him already.

What he intended—if indeed he intended anything—remained unclear; but her own heart, which she had attempted to guard so assiduously, had slipped its chains.

She found Jane in her chamber, seated by the window with her hands folded in her lap and a serene expression of happiness. The late afternoon light caught the golden threads in Jane's hair, and she appeared almost to glow with contentment.

"You look as though you have discovered the secret to perfect felicity," Elizabeth said with affection, settling beside her sister.

Jane's smile deepened. "Perhaps I have," she said softly. "Oh, Lizzy, is it possible to be this happy? I feel as though I am able to fly."

"Then we must ensure you remain properly anchored to earth," Elizabeth replied. "I should hate to lose you to the clouds before you have had a chance to properly enjoy your engagement. "

"Tell me, how did you pass the time whilst I was—" Jane paused, colour rising in her cheeks. "Whilst I was otherwise occupied?"

Elizabeth found herself smiling at the memory. "I played whist with Mr. Hurst, Mrs. Hurst, and Mr. Darcy, who served as my partner. It was most entertaining, particularly Mr. Hurst's creative rewriting of the rules."

"Mr. Darcy?" Jane's eyes became even brighter if such a thing was possible. "And did you find him an agreeable partner?"

"I must admit that I did," Elizabeth admitted, conscious of the blush that accompanied the confession. "He possesses a quick mind, and we seemed to understand each other's play quite naturally."

Jane reached for her sister's hand, her expression growing thoughtful.

"Lizzy, I have been thinking. When we return to Longbourn, I shall have such wonderful news to share with Papa and Mamma.

I cannot help but hope—" She paused delicately.

"That is, I should be so very pleased if, in time, I might not be the only daughter with happy tidings to report. "

Elizabeth felt her heart perform that peculiar little skip that had become distressingly familiar. "Jane, you must not—"

"I make no presumptions," Jane said hurriedly. "I merely observe that your manner when speaking of Mr. Darcy has altered considerably since our arrival at Netherfield."

Elizabeth gazed out the window, watching the last golden rays of sunlight paint the grounds in warm hues.

"I find myself uncertain of many things that once seemed perfectly clear," she said at length.

"Perhaps that is enough for now. You waited for Mr. Bingley to speak, as was proper.

I must do the same in regard to Mr. Darcy. "

Jane squeezed her hand with gentle understanding.