She looked at him in astonishment, wondering who this man in front of her was. He was being charming and funny, and completely unlike the Mr. Darcy she knew. Wickham had said he could be agreeable in company, and she had heard him make witty remarks in Hertfordshire in the autumn, but this blatant merry making, this happy man was not one she recognized.

“I am sorry to shock you, my dear. I should not jest about such things. Forgive me,” he apologized, looking genuinely sorry and a bit concerned by her lack of response.

“I am not offended, but I thank you for the apology. I am merely surprised, that is all. The Mr. Darcy I knew did not speak with such levity. Nor did he flirt so blatantly.”

He smiled. “Perhaps that is because I am Fitzwilliam to you now.”

Chapter 14

Mrs. Bennet was in a predicament. Her husband had been lovely of late. Indeed, since the winter, he had been kinder and more solicitous of her needs. She found that she enjoyed his quiet company in the evening when he would sit near the fire with a book while she embroidered. He had ceased mocking her with his high-minded jokes that she did not understand. Even Mrs. Bennet knew when she was being mocked, regardless of whether or not she understood the joke itself. His company had been pleasant, his behavior had been amenable, and they had taken several ambling walks along the shore, often at sundown in what she believed was her most flattering light.

Just two nights ago, she was sure he had looked at her with the same softness in his eyes he had used when they were young and newly married. At the time, she was flustered and blushed and continued on with the conversation they were having about their daughters, but it had unnerved her. That night, she had waited for her husband in her chambers, sure he would come to her. She had worn her most flattering nightgown and left her nightcap off, her still bright hair cascading over one shoulder and curling at the ends. But he had not come. Her candle had burned low and she had eventually realized that the door between their chambers was to remain closed. With a sadness she had not expected, she put out her light and went to sleep.

No one could blame her for being a trifle aloof the next day, nor for refusing her husband when he asked her to accompany him on a walk. She avoided him the whole of the day and the following one as well, until she found herself, quite to her surprise, missing his company. And so she joined him for a walk along the beach after dinner, as she had prior to her upset.