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They wove their way around the others in the room, and thankfully, no one paid them any mind. Bingley slipped through the door, and Darcy stationed himself outside to protect their privacy.

“That was well done, sir,” Elizabeth whispered. “I must congratulate you on your scheming.”

“You came up with the idea. I merely aided in the execution.”

Bingley and Miss Bennet appeared a moment later, both beaming. Miss Bennet wore a new piece of jewelry: a pearl and garnet pendant on a gold chain.

“I shall go speak to your father,” Bingley whispered.

“And we may announce our engagement over dinner,” came the reply.

“Well done, my friend,” Darcy congratulated Bingley.

“You played your part well.” Bingley nodded gratefully. “Miss Elizabeth, I thank you for your aid. I am the happiest of men!”

“So, you are. Do not hurt my sister, sir, or I shall call you out.” The glint in her eye was neither serious nor teasing, but somewhere in between.

“I so swear.” He placed a hand on his chest and bowed. “I shall treat her as the angel she is.”

There was a commotion from another part of the room, and the three of them turned in tandem. Mr. Hurst had his wife by the arm and was helping her to a chair.

“Are you well?” Mrs. Bennet came to Mrs. Hurst’s side with a cup of tea. “My dear Mrs. Hurst, shall I prepare a room?”

“I am well. I only…” Mrs. Hurst glanced at her husband apologetically. “I just need something to eat, Mrs. Bennet. My stomach is a little uneasy.”

Enlightenment crossed Mrs. Bennet’s face. “Ah, I see. I shall have some toast fetched from the kitchens. Will that suit?”

“Louisa, I am concerned.” Mr. Bingley strode across the room. “If you were unwell, why did you come tonight? Do you need a physician? You have suffered of late.”

“It is not the place, brother,” Mrs. Hurst hissed.

“Nonsense, Mrs. Hurst,” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Relieve your brother’s worry. It is clear he does not know what ails you. And it is but a temporary malady.”

“Tell him, my dear,” Mr. Hurst said.

Darcy was surprised to realize that he was, for the first time in his memory, entirely sober.

“I am expecting, Charles,” Mrs. Hurst said at last. “The…discomfort comes and goes. And it takes me by surprise at times.”

Bingley’s face lit up. “That is wonderful news! And to receive it at this time of year—how marvelous!”

“Do not think your meeting with my eldest went unnoticed.” Mr. Bennet’s droll tone came from the other side of the room. “Let us forego another private meeting between gentlemen. You have my blessing.”

Mrs. Bennet erupted. “My Jane, engaged! And she is to be an aunt, too! Mr. Bennet, God has been so good to us. Hill! Bring the champagne. We must celebrate. And see to it that toast and ginger tea is made ready for Mrs. Hurst.”

The matron’s kindness to Mrs. Hurst did not go unnoticed. Darcy supposed it ought not to have surprised him. He had been around Mrs. Bennet long enough to know that, although she was brash, she was kind and considerate at heart. She went about ensuring her guest’s comfort, even going so far as to order a few more pillows and a footstool.

“I have had five children, my dear Mrs. Hurst,” she said as she plumped a pillow. “Each one had me more ill than the last. I learned all the usual signs and remedies.”

Mrs. Hurst, once haughty and disapproving, was thankful and warm.

“The early months can be miserable; you must never allow anyone to make you feel foolish for seeking rest.” Mr. Hill stepped in and announced dinner then, and Mrs. Bennet kindly asked Mrs. Hurst if she would care for a tray in the quiet of the drawing room rather than move to the dining room.

“I should be grateful if I could have a tray,” Mrs. Hurst said. “I am sorry to be a bother.”

“Nonsense. Will Mr. Hurst join you?”

“Yes,” the man replied. “It is Christmas Eve. I wish to dine with my wife.” He exchanged a loving glance with his lady, and Darcy wondered if perhaps their marriage of convenience had blossomed into one of mutual affection.