“Easily.”
“Well?” He was hunting the front of his jacket for the pocket, trying to decide where to stuff the ruined handkerchiefs. He finally settled for shoving it under the pommel of his saddle. “Should I be troubled about them or not?”
“In what way?”
“Are they worth what Rumfield’s agent says? Is there any way of finding out where they might have come from? Who has the rights to them?”
“They are very fine,” I admitted slowly. “I cannot say how long they have been Rumfield’s property, but they appear to be everything he claims.”
“Well, that’s capital! Perhaps his word can be trusted about them, after all. So, are we off now?”
“Hmm. Oh, yes, indeed.” I nudged my horse into a swift trot, but I wasn’t thinking about the vases. My mind was back with that saucy snip of a girl who had bashed me in the head.
“Egad! Darcy, you are bleeding!”
Bingley had fallen just behind me, and now he raced to catch me up. He was pointing, aghast, as he surveyed the blood still splattered on the collar of my shirt and the matted hair that showed beneath my hat. “Good heavens! Did you have to come through that horrible window after all? I shouldn’t wonder if you were knocked out. I ought to have come to look for you!”
My spine prickled, and I felt the tender back of my head once more. “Only a trifling bother. I am still in one piece, but your housekeeper may find a souvenir of my injury. I am afraid I… became rather involved in my examination and thumped my head on the hearth when I stood up again.”
Bingley was regarding me strangely. “Well. We are a fine pair, are we not, Darcy? Here I was, thinking you would have nothing more to do with my clumsy self after this little adventure, but I see your luck is something like mine. Always getting into scrapes, as my sister Louisa says.”
So, today was no fluke; he really was accident-prone. That was worrisome, because I liked this affable, unaffected fellow. But if he couldn’t go anywhere without making a hash of things, it boded ill for him. “Speaking of scrapes, you will have a rather smashing bruise on your nose by tomorrow. I can see it already.”
He winced and touched the tip of that swollen organ. “I am not eager to meet my new neighbors in such a state. Hopefully, it will be mostly healed in the next fortnight.”
“Indeed. Do you know anything about the locals?” I asked casually.
“Only that my agent claims the county is full of beautiful young ladies. He promised to introduce me as soon as I have settled. Oh, I do wish you would come, Darcy. I had a letter before I left that Soames had begged off, and I fear Waterson may do the same, but it is a terrible pity. I hear the shooting is the best in the whole south of England.”
Surely, a stretch of the imagination, but as I scanned the landscape, I could just fancy that the region held its charms. And not all of them were of the sporting nature. “Perhaps. I will speak with my steward, for I had intended to return to Pemberley for the autumn.”
“Did you not say you had some business here in Hertfordshire, anyway? You could settle it when you come to stay.”
“No,” I replied, after a pensive sigh. “I ought to conclude that immediately. I think I will stay another night or two at Meryton. Perhaps when I return to London, I will have more answers for you regarding your vases.”
“What answers? According to you, there is nothing irregular.”
I blinked. “Oh, yes. Only a matter of curiosity, that is all.” A great deal of curiosity. Fortunately, I knew where to find the answers.
Seven
Elizabeth
Janemetmeatthe door. “Oh! I feared you would be gone forever. Are you well? You look terribly shaken. Did youwalkall the way from Netherfield?”
“Yes.” I pulled off my gloves and pelisse and hurried to put them away. Oh, but my hands were trembling! I extended them, and my fingers quaked uncontrollably.
“Lizzy? Are you all right?”
I clenched two fists and forced a few deep breaths. “I will be. Come, Jane, we must speak with Papa. Is he in his study?”
She whirled into step behind me. “Yes, and he said he was attending to some very important correspondence and was not to be disturbed.”
“Papa never has important correspondence,” I scoffed. “But what I have to tell him is dreadfully important. Papa?” I pounded on his study door. “May I come in?”
“Lizzy!” Jane grabbed my arm. “There is blood on your sleeve? Are you hurt?”
I turned my elbow over to inspect my sleeve with a detached sort of curiosity. “It is notmyblood. It belonged to the gentleman. How careless of him to mislay it.”
