Page 96 of Companions of Their Youth
Wickham shrugged, his smile undiminished. “I have found that soldiers are often more sensitive to beauty than they are given credit for. We know too well how easily it can vanish.”
There was a faint melancholy in his tone that Elizabeth could not quite place. Before she could respond, Lydia called out fromahead that they were going into the shop. Wickham gestured gallantly.
“May I? I know a thing or two about such fripperies.”
“Oh really?”
He gave her a winning smile. “Yes, although I must admit that when it comes to buckles, I am lost.”
Elizabeth hesitated only a second before nodding. He followed her inside, offering opinions on ribbons and trimmings with such unselfconscious elegance that even Kitty was too surprised to giggle. He complimented a bolt of Belgian lace so smoothly that the shop girl flushed and dropped her scissors.
Elizabeth studied him more closely as he spoke. He was flirtatious, yes, but not lascivious; attentive, but not presumptuous. There was something carefully curated about his every word and gesture. He was like a painting—beautiful, composed, and perhaps too perfect to be entirely real.
Still, it was difficult not to enjoy the attention.
When it was at last time to return home, Elizabeth stepped out onto the cobbled street with her sisters, their arms laden with brown paper parcels tied in twine. Mrs. Philips had disappeared back into her sitting room, no doubt to peer through the curtain and monitor the officers’ reactions to her nieces.
The officers were beginning to follow them out the door when Kitty gave a little shriek and pointed down the lane.
“Look! It is Mr. Bingley—and Mr. Darcy! And… is that Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
Sure enough, three horses were approaching at a steady trot, the riders recognizable even at a distance. Wickham, who had been casually adjusting his gloves, glanced down the road and then back toward Elizabeth. Something subtle shifted in his expression.
“I am afraid, ladies,” he said with an elegant bow, “that I have business that cannot be put off any longer. I trust we will meet again.”
His smile lingered a moment more, and then he turned on his heel and vanished with practiced grace around the corner. The other two officers exchanged confused glances, then bowed and followed after their friend.
Elizabeth blinked, mildly taken aback.
Bingley was the first to reach them, swinging down from his horse with bright eyes and flushed cheeks. “Miss Bennet! What a fortunate meeting! We were just on our way to call at Longbourn—Darcy insisted.”
Behind him, Darcy dismounted with somewhat more reserve, while Colonel Fitzwilliam gave them all a cheerful salute before sliding off his own horse with the ease of long practice.
“May we escort you back?” Bingley asked eagerly. “It seems fate has made the decision for us.”
Jane consented with quiet grace, and he offered his arm at once. The colonel turned to Kitty and Lydia, both of whom accepted his attention with visible glee.
Darcy’s eyes were already on Elizabeth. “May I?”
She gave him a faint smile and took his arm. They began to walk slowly, allowing the others to move ahead, their cheerful voices fading with distance.
“I hope you do not mind our approach,” Darcy said after a few steps. “I very much wanted to call these last few days, but… Fitzwilliam and I agreed to wait.”
Elizabeth gave a small nod. “It was wise. The first few days needed to be grounded in new habits and consequences. I fear an indulgent visit would have undone it all.”
He looked troubled. “And how has she borne it?”
“She has not run off, slapped anyone, or broken a plate since the second morning,” Elizabeth said dryly. “That is the kindest way to summarize it.”
He let out a slow breath. “Then she is improving?”
“There has been… some progress,” Elizabeth allowed. “She no longer looks quite so stunned when we follow through on discipline. She resents it, of course, but the shock is fading.”
“I worried she might feel abandoned.”
“She likely does. But it is nottrueabandonment; it is holding firm to consequences. She must learn the difference.” Elizabeth paused, then added more softly, “You do her no favors by shielding her from discomfort.”
“I know,” he murmured. “But it is difficult, Miss Elizabeth.”
