Page 19 of He Insulted My Entire Family Before Proposing

He bowed his head.

The gesture was not theatrical. That made it worse. Elizabeth felt her anger lose one of its favorite supports.

"I will try," he said.

"Do better. Trying is what people say when they wish to be thanked before the work is done."

"Then I will do better."

From the house, Mrs. Bennet called Elizabeth's name with enough force to alarm livestock.

Elizabeth turned. "I am summoned."

"Miss Elizabeth."

She looked back.

"I cannot undo my first proposal."

"No. It will remain a remarkable document in the history of offensive romance."

Pain crossed his face, but so did acknowledgment. "If I ever speak again on that subject, I will remember."

"See that you remember before speaking. It saves time."

She left him there, beneath the soft green of the shrubbery, and walked toward the house with the uncomfortable sensation that justice had become less simple.

Inside, Mrs. Bennet seized her arm. "Lizzy, why must Mr. Darcy always find you in the shrubbery? If he means nothing by it, it looks odd; if he means something, it looks odder still."

"I shall endeavor to be poorer company."

"Do not be pert. Mr. Bingley has asked Jane to walk tomorrow."

Elizabeth's heart lifted despite everything. Across the room, Jane stood by the window, cheeks delicately colored, hope no longer able to disguise itself as composure.

Perhaps, Elizabeth thought, some repairs did not begin with grand gestures.

Perhaps they began with one person telling the truth to the person he had misled, and then getting out of the way.

It was not enough.

But it was not nothing.

CHAPTER 7

After Bingley's return, Caroline Bingley and the Hursts remained at Netherfield for three days with two trunks, indolent company, and the moral force of an unpaid insult.

On the fourth day, the Netherfield carriage brought Caroline and Mrs. Hurst to Longbourn, with Bingley and Darcy riding beside it. Mr. Hurst remained at Netherfield, a decision so sensible that Elizabeth almost admired him for it. This gave Caroline the advantage of an audience and Elizabeth the disadvantage of not being able to pretend she had missed her.

Mrs. Bennet received her with delight sharpened by suspicion. Jane received her with courtesy softened by memory. Elizabeth received her as one receives a wasp near jam: calmly, but with a folded napkin ready.

"My dear Jane," Caroline cried, kissing the air near Jane's cheek. "How well you look. Country air has restored you entirely. London was so unkind to all of us."

"Was it?" Elizabeth asked.

Caroline smiled. "To those with feeling, certainly."

"Then I am sorry you suffered in so select a group."