Of course the girls could not host a true picnic luncheon, so the sisters settled on an informal buffet style spread with the traditional springtime dishes one might find in a picnic basket. Cold meats and cheeses, sliced fruits, wine. Biscuits and other sweets were arranged, jams for slices of thick bread. The cook also set out a tureen of soup, which Elizabeth appreciated as she had little appetite for heavy food these days, her mind and emotions preoccupied.

Jane, understanding Elizabeth's desire to keep the gathering restrained, put her foot down when it came to the guest list and only a few of their sisters' closer friends were invited. There was no help for the fact that Caroline emerged from her self-imposed isolation in her rooms. Elizabeth watched Darcy's face as he glanced at Miss Bingley, and wondered at the shadow that crossed his expression, the utter coldness and damning civility with which he greeted her.

"Did you and Miss Bingley quarrel?" Elizabeth asked once she was able to get Darcy alone on a quiet stroll in the winter bare gardens.

"I do not quarrel with women," he said, voice final. "And it is time Bingley found her a husband."

With those words Elizabeth deduced some glimmer of what may have happened, and felt both aggravation at Caroline and warm sympathy for Darcy. She took his hand and squeezed in wordless commiseration.

"Well, she cannot be any worse than Collins."

Darcy gave her a startled look, having heard all about her cousin, then laughed, his dark mood vanquished.

Among the guests was Miss Morgan, and Elizabeth's jaw clenched as she forced a polite smile when addressed by her. At least their mother had stayed home for now, citing a headache. Mary remained with her.

After lunch they retired to the drawing room where Jane had set out watercolours and canvasses for the girls to paint springtime garden scenes.

Elizabeth declined to participate and instead took a stroll about the room, a book in her hand. Darcy and Bingley stood in a corner, Bingley leaning against the wall while Darcy stood at attention as they conversed in quiet murmurs punctuated by Bingley's occasional laughter. Her gaze met Darcy's every once in a while, and she thought that soon he might excuse himself and join her. Caroline stood by a window, the wintry afternoon light bathing her slender form, and spoke to no one.

As Elizabeth circled the room a third time, she slowed involuntarily, listening in on the girls' conversation.

" . . . but I do not think it was expansive enough. The clues were mostly confined to the house. I should have used the entire countryside were I in charge of the game," Kitty was saying.

"It does sound amusing," Georgiana said. "I am unhappy I missed it. I was with family in London and thought I would join my brother here later, but then I became ill."

"Oh, but we should have another one," Lydia said, paintbrush hovering. She glanced at Kitty, her eyes gleaming. "We will make the clues ourselves—and they won't be boring like Charles'."

"Lydia," Jane murmured.

"We should make a dinner party of it," Charles said, approaching.

"Not you too," Elizabeth sighed, turning to the gentlemen, who had abandoned their corner.

He grinned at her, and bent down to place a kiss on his wife's forehead. "Well, how are we to truly judge who is the best clue writer if we don't perfectly mimic the circumstances? It is only scientific."

"What does any of you know about science . . ."

"It won't be all that bad, Lizzy," Lydia said, rolling her eyes.

"You should not encourage such provincial pastimes," Caroline said to her brother.

"I encourage pastimes that make my family happy. I am sorry if the game does not suit you, Caro."

"After the conduct of certain players under your roof last time, I would think—"

"That is enough, Caroline." Bingley spoke quietly, but with unusual firmness. "If you are feeling out of sorts, perhaps you should retire."

Caroline's lip curled, and she glanced once around the room, then left.

Georgiana looked between all of them, eyes wide. "Did the last game not go well?"

A beat of silence in the room, then Charles snorted and waved a hand. "It is a challenge then. To see whose clues are more amusing. It is not as easy as it seems, dear sister!"

"That would be wonderful," Georgiana said. "But we should do it right before dinner—I am always famished after a good game."

"That may not be the most sensible idea, Georgiana," Darcy said quietly. "You are not to exert yourself."

Georgiana turned patient, though reproachful, eyes on him. "Don't be overbearing, William. You must stop treating me like an invalid."

He hesitated, then sighed. "If you say you are well, you are well. But I will be watching."

"Of course you will be."

Elizabeth was happy enough to let the younger women amuse themselves and otherwise avoid being wheedled into the activity. She had no desire to be in the company of Miss Morgan and give her any more fodder for gossip, and certainly no burning interest in playing another stupid scavenger hunt game.

Darcy, it seemed, was of the same mind.

Elizabeth emerged from her room in the hour before dinner would be called, having hid inside when the halls began reverberating with the giggles of young women as they bounded about following their clues.

Shutting the door behind her, she stopped short when she saw Darcy at the end of the hall, standing as if he had been waiting for hours and would wait for hours yet.

She approached. "Is this a new entertainment where you pretend to be a statue? Or were you waiting for me?" Before these last few days, she never would have been so bold as to assume he was waiting for her . . . but the dynamic between them had altered.

Proof enough was Darcy's open, though brief, smile when she spoke. "I was waiting for you. I knew you could not closet yourself forever."

She grimaced slightly. "I had no interest in being hounded into joining their game. Because of the odd number either it will be a duo against a trio, or someone will play alone."

He shrugged, indifferent. "As long as my sister enjoys herself and does not strain her health, I am content. I thought you might like to join me for a game of cards before dinner. I usually play with Bingley when he can convince me, but his face is much less pleasant to look at then yours."

Elizabeth laughed. "Jane would probably disagree with you, but yes. Shall we?"

Once they were seated in the drawing room at a small table, having decided on a game and Elizabeth dividing the deck, Darcy lifted a brow.

"What stakes shall there be? You cannot have a game without stakes."

Elizabeth grinned, enjoying this playful side of Darcy. Of course he would always behave with restraint—she could never envision him crowing with delight or clapping his hands—but sitting opposite her was a man who was, in his own way, completely relaxed. A state she had come to notice he shared with few people, and certainly not when in company outside of his sister and close friends.

Charles entered the drawing room, giving Elizabeth a small smile, and settled himself in a corner with a book. She eyed him a moment, as she had never seen him sit quietly in a corner and read, but shrugged and turned back to Darcy.

"What do you gentlemen usually wager for?" she asked.

"Nothing interesting." His eyes gleamed. "Nothing at all interesting. But it occurs to me I have a unique opportunity before me."

She paused in distributing the cards. "Oh?"

He lowered his voice so it would reach only her ears. "I win this hand and you grant me a kiss."

Her lips curved. "I thought we had agreed to be on our best courting behaviour."

He lowered his lids, veiling the expression in his eyes. "I am rather tired of best behaviour. I feel I deserve a reward for my restraint this week."

And with the return of the deep, husky tone that had been replaced in all their interactions the last several days by a warm, but almost cousinly mien, Elizabeth's fingers trembled.

It hit her. His voice, the look he now gave her, the banked heat behind his words.

She took a deep breath. "Did you not say that the next time . . ." she could not even say the words.

"I did." His fingers drummed against the table-top. "You know there is a solution to this dilemma, Miss Bennet." He gave her a pointed look.

"What are you two whispering about over there?" Charles asked loudly, not bothering to hide a raunchy grin.

Elizabeth sniffed. "Yes. That we select another wager."