Elizabeth lifted her shoulders a touch. That was all Papa required, for he offered her a tiny nod and a gaze that was somehow both fond and sorrowful.
Her entire life had just changed, and Mr. Darcy was speaking about apples. She hoped that her father was not expecting more than Mr. Darcy intended. For who could make sense of such a confounding man?
“What does your heart say, Lizzy?” Jane asked.
Two hours. They had been going back and forth about Mr. Darcy’s intentions for two hours. Elizabeth’s head said that it was too soon, but . . . “My heart hopes he will ask, Jane. My head, however, is more practical.”
“Lizzy,” Jane said reprovingly, “you have already told me that he is a good and kind man, despite his faults. Clever, too, which is of great importance to you. And though I prefer Mr. Bingley’s looks, I cannot deny that Mr. Darcy is a handsome man.”
“All of this is pointless. He has not asked for my hand, nor, after two months ignoring me, is he like to.”
To her credit, Jane did consider it for a time. “Lizzy, Mr. Darcy seems a deliberate man. True?”
“Very deliberate, yes.”
“Would you have him show you preference before he decided he would act upon it in an honourable manner?”
Elizabeth had to admit that Jane had a point. “No, I do not think he would wish to raise my expectations had he no intention of satisfying them.”
“Well, then. He has not changed towards you, not really. He is only revealing his feelings now because he knows his own mind.”
“Pfft,” Elizabeth said, waving a hand. “He likes me, but is it enough?”
Her sister nodded. “Lizzy, I want you to listen very carefully to me. Will you?”
“Of course, Jane.”
“Papa was well aware that Mr. Collins would probably make you an offer.”
“Yes . . .”
“He knew you did not want Mr. Collins to propose.”
Elizabeth sighed. She could see where Jane was headed, but she could not deny that her sister was correct. “Papa knew.”
“Did he protect you? Quietly suggest to Mr. Collins that he turn his eye to Mary, who might have welcomed his proposals? Did he do anything to protect you or any of us, really, by asking our thoughts or wishes?”
“No.” It was the only honest answer.
Jane took Elizabeth’s hands. “How would Mr. Darcy respond, do you think, if such a man were to importune his sister?”
Elizabeth grinned. “Oh, I do not know. Toss him into the sea? Poison his tea? Have him removed by two very large footmen, never to be seen again?”
“I believe,” Jane said sternly, a faint trace of a smile curling her lips, “you mean to say that Mr. Darcy would promptly send the man packing.”
“Too bad.” Elizabeth flopped back on her pillows. “That would not be nearly as amusing.”
“However, you have made my point for me. Mr. Darcy would act decisively to spare his sister any unwanted attentions.”
Elizabeth was silent. It would be a great comfort to have someone protect her in such a way.
“One final question, Lizzy.”
“Yes?”
“Do you love him?”
Elizabeth kissed her sister’s hand. Did she? She had been falling for him, but had she fallen? Was she ready to say that she loved Mr. Darcy?