“He is a fair-minded man,” Bingley said diplomatically. “I’m sure he holds no grudge against you for an accident. Besides, it’s been a few days since you’ve been in company. A little conversation might do you good.”
I stared at him for a moment. Bingley had no idea of the storm that was brewing inside my head. He knew nothing about my outing yesterday afternoon, when I had spent hours cloistered with Elizabeth Bennet. And here he was, as polite as ever, practically begging me to make myself sociable… to join him in town. He didn’t deserve to be ignored. And it would be impolitic of me to alienate him, for he was the one gentleman in all of Meryton who was still speaking to me—though Heaven only knew why.
“You’re right,” I said finally. “I owe the Colonel—and you—a call.”
Bingley brightened. “Splendid! We can leave within the hour.”
“Within the hour?” I grimaced. It seemed a bit sudden, but then, if I didn’t go now, I’d probably put it off for another week, or never. “Very well. I’ll be ready.”
The market square ofMeryton was bustling when we arrived. Townsfolk moved about in their usual hurried manner, while a handful of officers milled about near the shop fronts. Colonel Forster was among them, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his sharp gaze surveying the crowd.
As we approached, Bingley waved a hand in greeting. “Colonel Forster! Good to see you, sir!”
The Colonel turned, his face lighting up in recognition. “Ah, Mr. Bingley! And Mr. Darcy as well!” His gaze lingered on me for a moment, and though his expression remained polite, I could sense the lingering memory of our last encounter.
“Colonel,” I said stiffly, nodding my head in greeting. “I trust you’ve been well.”
“Quite,” Forster replied, though there was a curious gleam in his eye. “I’m glad to see you out and about again, Mr. Darcy. We were beginning to wonder if you’d taken permanent refuge at Netherfield.”
Bingley chuckled lightly. “Darcy’s been buried in work these past days, but I finally managed to drag him out for some fresh air.”
“Yes, work,” I muttered, though the lie tasted bitter. “A number of letters, you see.”
“Well,” Forster said, clasping his hands together, “you’ll be pleased to know that Meryton has been peaceful lately. No runaway horses or flying laundry lines to speak of.”
I swallowed a groan. So, the rumors still lingered. Of course, they did. I glanced over Forster’s shoulder, hoping against hope that Ewan wouldn’t take this moment to make a scene.
But then, as if summoned by my very thoughts, a familiar voice chimed in behind me. “I’d no’ stand fer such an insult tae my face, lad.”
I froze, my knuckles tightening on the reins as my shoulders drew back.
Forster tilted his head, watching me with a raised brow. “I certainly did not mean to offend you, Mr. Darcy. Only a bit of a jest, sir.”
“No offense taken at all,” I managed to choke out, though Ewan’s presence was now unmistakable, lingering far too close for comfort. “Just... a chill in the air this afternoon.”
Forster nodded slowly, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced. He gave Bingley a pointed look before saying, “I trust we’ll see you both at dinner with my officers next week?”
“Of course!” Bingley answered with a broad smile. “Darcy and I wouldn’t miss it.”
I glared sideways at him. Dinner? When was this invitation accepted? I gritted my teeth, offering Forster and Bingley a tight smile. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”
Forster nodded, though I caught the brief flicker of amusement in his eyes. “We look forward to it, Mr. Darcy.”
Wonderful. More time in the company of Colonel Forster, Wickham, and every other person who now suspected I was teetering on the brink of madness.
Bingley tipped his hat to the colonel and turned his horse. He clapped me on the shoulder as we walked our mounts back up the street. “See, Darcy? It wasn’t so bad.”
I gave him a weak smile, praying that the afternoon would pass without further incident.
Twenty
Darcy
Afew days later,I had another note from “Mr. Bennet.” And for once, I actually looked forward to meeting the person who wanted to meet with me. Besides, I had something to show her.
I arrived at the gamekeeper’s cottage, the letter from my solicitor in hand. I ducked inside to find that Elizabeth had been busy. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, and there was already a fresh pile of books stacked on the table—some of them opened, pages spread with scribbled notes and bookmarks. Elizabeth was hunched over one of them, her brow furrowed in concentration.
She glanced up, smiling. “Mr. Darcy, you’ve brought news?”
