But then, for no reason she could fathom, the face of another man appeared in her thoughts, and she could not help a little sigh. Mr Darcy, the man who had helped her when she hurt her ankle. Now,therewas another face worth meditating on. A pityhehad not also come to settle in their neighbourhood, for it would be most agreeable indeed to have two such handsome new neighbours.
But Mr Darcy was probably in London or wherever he lived. So why did she keep thinking of him? It was not as if wealthy men often drove through sodden country roads to rescue muddy damsels, nor did they tend to return for them. Still, his smile, though fleeting, was… nice. Not so nice as Mr Wickham’s ready charisma, but… well, it was hardly worth comparing the two men.
They were not unalike, though. Were they from the same part of England? Their accents had a similar cadence, which made her wonder. But that was silly because many men came from the north, and not all of them were single and handsome.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth!” called Mrs Long, her arms laden with parcels.
Elizabeth blinked back to awareness with a smile for her neighbour. “Good morning, Mrs Long. You look as though you have been very successful today. Mr Long will be dining like a king this evening.”
Mrs Long stepped close. “Oh, indeed he shall! And have you heard the latest news?”
“Do tell, Mrs Long.”
“They say Mr Wickham is considering a ball at Netherfield!”
“A ball, you say? How delightful! I am sure it will be the event of the season.”
“Yes, yes, quite so. He has promised to attend the upcoming Assembly as well. There is even a rumour that he might bring a guest, but no one knows who it could be.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “A guest? How intriguing. Let us hope it is yet another handsome, single gentleman of large fortune in want of a wife, shall we?”
Mrs Long nodded vigorously. “Indeed! But best not to get your hopes up, Lizzy. As I told Mr Long, it is likely an older aunt and uncle, or some such relation. For you know perfectly well, as a single gentleman, it would be scandalous for him to plan a ball without a hostess.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Surely, there must be some explanation. Perhaps he has a sister.”
“Or, heaven forbid, a wife hidden away in London!” Mrs Long exclaimed, her eyes wide with dramatic flair.
Elizabeth chuckled. “Oh, Mrs Long, your imagination is quite vivid. I cannot believe Mr Wickham would keep such a secret from us. But it does make for an entertaining story.”
“Well, I am certain your mother will wish to hear, so be certain to tell her. Now, I must be off, but do keep me informed if you hear anything new.”
“I will, Mrs Long. Enjoy the rest of your shopping,” Elizabeth replied, watching as the older woman bustled away.
A ball at Netherfield! She could already feel her feet tapping to the lively music, feel the swirl of her gown between her fingers, and hear the swell of excited conversation when Mr Wickham asked her for the first set. For surely, hewouldask, and naturally, it would be rude of her to decline.
Her musings were suddenly interrupted by the sight of a familiar-looking carriage making its way down the street. Her feet stilled. Why, that… that looked like Mr Bingley’s carriage! The thought was tantalizing. She swirled back and craned her neck to get a better look, but the throng of people obstructed her view. The carriage rolled past, its occupants hidden behind the closed curtains. Elizabeth huffed in frustration. That could not possibly be the same carriage, could it? But if it were… werebothits former passengers present today?
“Lizzy! Over here!” called Kitty from across the street, waving enthusiastically. She was standing in front of the butcher shop where Elizabeth had been supposed to meet her. Elizabeth shook her head. Her mother wanted her to select some ham to send to Longbourn, but she had not even completed her errand yet. How could she have forgot?
Elizabeth waved back and made her way through the crowd to join her sister. Kitty’s face lit up as she saw her. “Lizzy, you will not believe the bonnet I saw at the milliner’s! It has the most beautiful ribbons, a delicate lace trim, and the loveliest shade of blue. I am certain it would look perfect with my new dress for the Assembly.”
Elizabeth smiled and nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. She kept glancing back towards the street where the carriage had disappeared. Was it really him? Why was she so intrigued by the possibility?
Kitty continued, oblivious to her sister’s distraction. “And the flowers! Oh, Lizzy, the flowers on the bonnet are so intricately crafted. I can just imagine wearing it and how it would complement my dress perfectly. Do you think Papa will let me buy it? After all, it was notIwho spent all my pin money, but Lydia, on that stupid fabric that makes her look like a tomato.”
Elizabeth gave a non-committal hum, her thoughts still preoccupied. What if itwasMr Bingley’s carriage? What would he be doing in Meryton? She couldn’t quite shake the curiosity that had gripped her.
“Lizzy, are you even listening?” Kitty demanded.
Elizabeth blinked and refocused on her sister. “I am sorry, Kitty. I thought I saw someone familiar, but it was too crowded to be sure.”
Kitty’s curiosity was piqued. “Who did you think it was?”
“I am not certain,” Elizabeth replied, trying to brush it off. “Just someone I met briefly. It does not matter. Tell me more about this bonnet.”
“Well, as I was saying, the ribbons are the prettiest shade of blue, and the lace trim is so delicate…”
Elizabeth glanced one last time in the direction the carriage had gone, then shook her head. “I am sure it was nothing,” she muttered to herself.
