“Not nearly so much as he deserves. You ought to have heard him! Such a prideful, presumptuous fellow! I daresay he was not sorry at all for his profession and only wants another opportunity to plunder and thieve again.”
Papa’s brow crumpled, and he leaned forward. “So, he took the vases?”
“Hmm? Oh! No, of course not. He was too courteous for that once I had caught him.”
Papa shifted in his seat. “You struck him with a candelabra and then had a long discussion with him?”
“Well, we had to stitch up his head wound. He was bleeding all over the carpet, and you know, Netherfield has those very fine Persian r—”
“You stitched his head!”
“It was easier than darning the rips in Lydia’s stockings, but for the fact that he would not hold still. For someone who makes his living by burgling houses, he was quite the milksop.”
Papa was blinking, his mouth hanging open. He shook his head as if waking from a reverie. “Er… yes, of course. What did this roguish milksop look like?”
I did not even have to think about that to recall every detail clearly. “Exceedingly tall with broad shoulders. Cultured way of speaking. Dark brown hair that curls just a bit, brown eyes with little gold flecks, a dimple in his left cheek and another on his chin. Very well dressed. Oh, and an imperious manner. He really was hateful, Papa.”
Papa nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Yes,” he breathed. “He sounds like a regular devil.”
Darcy
“Areyouquitecertainyou will be all right? You must have taken a fearful blow to the head.”
I dabbed a cloth to the back of my head to finish drying my hair. I had got the worst of the damage cleaned up, but without my valet, it was a dashed, inconvenient job. “I will manage. It is bruised and quite tender, but nothing more than I deserve for my carelessness.”
“Yes. We are two of a kind, it seems. Louisa is forever teasing me that I cannot go anywhere but that I come home with some injury.”
I raised a brow. “This is not a common experience for me. I was merely taken aback by… something.” I touched the tender place at the back of my head again. That bewitching creature had left an impression, and not only upon my poor skull. When had I ever presumed such liberties? Never! And yet, I had been so free in speaking with her, in asking for her help… and in “thanking” her. I was still dizzy from that. What the devil had come over me?
“Perhaps I ought to stay, Darcy. I could be of some help, could I not?”
“I am afraid not at present. There can be no point in you remaining in Meryton when your business in London is not yet complete. My business will be concluded swiftly, and I will follow you tomorrow or the next day.”
He looked unhappy. “Very well. How shall I thank you for all your trouble? I had hoped to invite you back to Netherfield when I am settled.”
“Allow me to conclude my other affairs, and I will consider it. You are most kind to extend the invitation.” I put out my hand, and Bingley took it with his face glowing with pleasure.
“Jolly good! Until we meet again, Darcy.” Bingley replaced his hat, which did little to draw attention from the smashing black eye and swollen nose he had cultivated, and went out.
From my window, I watched him board the carriage for London. We had brought his carriage, which meant I would have to hire a horse or ride post for my return. That was as well. It was probably better if the Darcy carriage and crest were not seen anywhere near Meryton at present.
Longbournwasasmallerestate than I had expected. Judging by the size of the house, the property likely brought about two thousand a year in rents—but that was just a guess. I arrived through the wood, not wishing to alert anyone to my presence just yet. How best to approach Mr. Bennet?
I could simply present myself at his doorstep, but I personally loathe such ostentatiousness. I cannot abide someone being so forward when we have not been previously introduced. Perhaps I could find someone in town to introduce me. That solicitor fellow…
Wait.
I backed the hired horse a little deeper into the trees when the front door of the house opened. Three young ladies, attired in varying shades of pink and blue, were wandering out the door. One was excessively high-spirited. I squinted… no. That was not the lady of my previous acquaintance. Too tall and round. The lady I had met was petite. Not voluptuous, perhaps, but her figure had a pleasing quality. Very pleasing.
I watched the others carefully. One was average in every way, and she walked with her arms clutched about her middle as if she despised being there. No, that was not my girl.
I snorted. My girl. What a silly way to think of her! I’d met the lady once. But she was clever and sportive, and it was no punishment to speak with her. She just might be the answer to my dilemma if I could spot her. Perhaps that third sister… No. The curls under her bonnet were frizzy and blonde, not rich, velvety brown with gentle spirals.
Ah, there. The door opened again, and two more young ladies appeared. One was a goddess. The other was another blonde. I smiled.
Even from a distance, Elizabeth Bennet caught and held my eye. Like a genuine diamond stands out from paste jewelry, like a well-bred filly rises above a plow horse. She might not have done, had I not already met her, seen her in all her scintillating glory. Others might even be drawn to that other sister, the second blonde who walked at her side. But they had not seen the mischief and the fire that I had seen, and I could not erase it from my mind’s eye.
I backed my horse a little more when the ladies all stopped. They were walking on the road toward Meryton, but Elizabeth Bennet was hanging back from the rest. There was some discourse—the boisterous one was eager to go on and demanded that her sisters all follow. I held my breath to hear better. They were all supposed to stay together, the one sister said. Thieves afoot, she said.
