Richard’s eyebrows shot up. “A challenge? For the great Fitzwilliam Darcy? Surely not.” He leaned forward, a conspiratorial grin on his face. “Gentlemen, what you need is a diversion. Something to clear the cobwebs and sharpen your senses.”
Bingley glanced at Darcy, then back at Fitzwilliam. “What did you have in mind?”
“A shooting party!” Richard declared. “In Derbyshire. I expect to have a month’s leave. The weather is fine, the birds at Pemberley are always plentiful, and it would do us all good to escape London for a spell.”
Bingley’s eyes lit up. “Capital idea! Darcy, what do you say?”
Darcy hesitated. His vision swam again, and he felt a wave of dizziness. “It does sound diverting. But to leave Georgiana alone in London...”
Richard’s expression sobered immediately. “Ah, of course. I should have thought. Mother has been trotting the poor lass out nearly every day.”
“And I could not be so far away as Derbyshire. Perhaps another time,” Darcy said apologetically.
Richard nodded, then snapped his fingers. “Wait! Why not bring Georgiana along? The country air would do her good, and she could stay at Pemberley while we are out shooting.”
Darcy considered this. His head pounded, and his thoughts were sluggish. “Lady Matlock would be most seriously displeased.”
“Oh, Mother will find some other young debutante to torment. Who knows? She might even happen upon one who enjoys all her attentions while Georgiana slips off to happier pursuits in Derbyshire. Come, Darcy, what say you?”
“That... might actually be beneficial. A change of scenery could lift her spirits.”
“Excellent!” Richard clapped his hands together. “It’s settled then. Bingley, you will accompany us, of course?”
Bingley nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely! Why, it is the very thing.”
“Splendid!” Richard drained his glass and stood. “When shall we leave? Three days’ time—Friday? Darcy, you’ll see to Georgiana?”
Darcy nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the persistent pain. “Yes, I will speak with her tomorrow.”
“Perfect.” Richard strode towards the door, pausing only to clap both men on the shoulder. “Friday it is!”
As Richard turned to leave, he paused, giving Darcy a long, searching look. “Darcy, how are you faring? Mother mentioned you were... unwell earlier.”
Darcy straightened, forcing his expression to remain calm and composed. “I am perfectly well, Richard. Just a bit of travel fatigue, nothing more.”
Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. “Very well, if you say so. But take care of yourself, cousin.”
Darcy nodded again, the tightness in his chest easing slightly as Richard finally exited the room. He closed his eyes briefly, willing the headache to subside and his strength to return.
Elizabeth stepped carefully arounda particularly treacherous puddle as she made her way through Meryton’s main street with her sisters. Jane walked beside her while Mary trailed behind, her nose buried in a small book of verse she had brought along specifically to read in case they should happen to pass any males with whom she did not wish to make eye contact. Kitty and Lydia bounced ahead, their excited chatter about ribbons and lace floating back to Elizabeth’s ears.
“Lizzy, do mind where you’re walking,” Jane gently admonished as Elizabeth’s foot squelched into another muddy patch.
Elizabeth grimaced, lifting her skirt to inspect the damage. “I am beginning to think we should have brought a boat rather than trying to wade. This flooding is getting quite out of hand. Even the streets of Meryton are scarcely passable!”
“They are not so bad if you keep to the edges,” Jane commented drily. “Youwouldinsist on crossing every time you see someone you want to talk to.”
“That is my entire purpose for coming to town.” Elizabeth waved airily. “I am hardly in need of more ribbon, and I did not offer to chaperon Kitty and Lydia merely for the pleasure of seeing their purchases.”
“Then, I suppose you will have to put up with a bit of mud on your hems. Oh, look, there is Mrs Goulding.”
As they approached the milliner’s shop, Elizabeth rushed forward when she saw how her neighbour was struggling with her parcels. “Oh, Mrs Goulding, let me help you with those,” Elizabeth offered, reaching for a precariously balanced package.
Mrs Goulding smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. I thought I was going to slip the moment my foot left the doorstep! This dreadful mud makes everything so much more difficult.”
“Indeed, it does. I was just saying to Jane that the flooding seems to be worsening. Have you heard any reasons why it might be so bad this year?”
Mrs Goulding shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Mr Goulding says the farmers are at their wits’ end. Some claim it is the water from Netherfield’s stream, but Mr Hopper, the steward, claims the bank is holding as well as it ever did.”
