Page 21 of Twice Chosen

Mary tried.

Better.

Not beautiful.

Better.

When she finished, Elizabeth applauded first. Mary looked pleased.

Darcy's eyes remained on Elizabeth.

She knew he was thinking.

So was she.

Bingley and Jane spoke near the window. Mrs. Bennet talked to Mrs. Hurst, while Caroline had not come. Thank heaven for small mercies.

Eventually Darcy rose and approached Elizabeth. "May I ask you a question?"

She looked up. "You appear committed to unusual questions."

His mouth moved. "What do you think of hawthorn?"

Elizabeth's heart stopped.

No.

He could not.

Years--decades--ahead, they had argued over whether the old hawthorn near Pemberley's south meadow should be removed. Darcy thought it diseased. Elizabeth had threatened to chain herself to it. The tree survived another thirty years.

She stared. "Hawthorn?"

"Yes."

"An innocent tree."

"Generally."

"Unless someone wishes to cut it down."

Darcy went utterly still.

Elizabeth's pulse roared.

There.

Too specific.

She had done it.

He knew.

His eyes locked on hers.

Neither breathed.

Then Lydia called, "Lizzy! Which ribbon?"