I made my decision. “No need for supper, Mrs. Hodges. I’ll be leaving again shortly.”
She blinked, clearly surprised, but only nodded. “Very good, sir. Shall I have your room prepared for your return?”
“That won’t be necessary.” I glanced at the box once more. “Have this placed in my carriage. I’ll look through it later.”
Mrs. Hodges gave another curtsy before signaling for a footman to handle the task. I turned away from the door, stepping into the house for only a brief moment to collect my things.
I had planned to rest here, spend a night while attending to other matters in town, but now I found the thought of staying in London unbearable. The house felt too quiet, too empty, and I was too irritated with the contents of that box. The idea of sitting alone, poring over old relics and trying to unravel some distant family connection to a woman I didn’t even know—it all seemed pointless.
“I’ll be leaving straightaway,” I said. “No need for further preparations.”
“As you wish, sir,” she replied. “Shall I have a basket readied for you?”
“No need,” I said, already stepping out into the misting rain. “I’ll manage.”
The box was loaded into the carriage, the horses already stamping impatiently as I climbed inside. I settled into my seat, glancing briefly at the sealed package sitting on the opposite bench. It sat there, unassuming, a simple wooden box. Someone’s entire life, their most prized possessions. And now they were mine to dust. I sighed.
As the carriage jolted forward, I forced myself to look away. The rain began to tap softly against the windows, and I settled back, determined not to think of what was inside until I had to.
The sooner I returned to Netherfield, the sooner I could put this ridiculous business behind me.
Elizabeth
Three hours later, Ifound myself sitting in the drawing room, my needlework abandoned beside me as I listened to the steady drum of rain against the windows. It had started only half an hour after Jane had left, and I could feel a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest with each passing minute.
“She’s not back yet?” I asked, for what felt like the tenth time, glancing toward the door as though expecting her to materialize out of thin air.
Mama, who had been sitting by the fire with her sewing, looked up with a frown. “Of course not, Lizzy. She’s dining at Netherfield. I’m sure they’ve kept her for some conversation or perhaps even a little music. Mr. Bingley is quite attentive, you know.”
“Mr. Bingley was not even to be there, Mama. Miss Bingley’s note said he was dining with Colonel Forster this evening.”
“Oh, but surely the ladies have detained her at least until his return. Like enough, they are all singing and playing until the gentleman comes home.”
Or she’s drenched, chilled to the bone, and stranded somewhere along the road, I thought grimly, but didn’t say.
I stood, pacing across the room to peer out the window. The rain was coming down harder now, turning the lane into a muddy mess, and I cursed under my breath. If Jane was not chilled or feverish after her first ride through the rain, the second—in the dark—would finish her off. Why hadn’t I insisted on the carriage?
“She’ll catch cold,” I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.
Mama sighed, setting aside her sewing. “Lizzy, you worry too much. You will see, all will be well! And even if she does catch a small chill, it will hardly harm her. Why, Mr. Bingley will probably insist on nursing her back to health himself!”
I rolled my eyes but said nothing, returning to my seat by the fire. Mama’s matchmaking fantasies knew no bounds. To hear her tell it, a little cold might be exactly the thing to seal the match. Still, my stomach twisted in worry, and I found myself glancing at the door every few minutes, hoping Jane would return before the night grew any worse.
Four
Darcy
The sky was wellinto dusk by the time the carriage rolled up the long drive to Netherfield. The faint glow from the windows spilled out into the darkening landscape, giving the house a warm, almost welcoming appearance. I was tired, sore from the hours spent in the carriage, and more than ready for a quiet evening without interruption.
As I stepped down from the carriage, a footman approached to take my coat and offer assistance. “Have this box taken up to my room,” I said, gesturing toward the large wooden crate being unloaded from the back. “Be careful with it. Dratted thing is likely to fall apart.”
He nodded and set about the task without a word.
I made my way inside, expecting the quiet of a late evening, but instead, I was greeted by Bingley bounding into the entryway with all the enthusiasm of a man who had forgotten what exhaustion felt like.
“Darcy!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up with surprise. “We weren’t expecting you back tonight. Thought you said you meant to stay in town.”
“Changed my mind,” I said, brushing off my gloves and handing them to the waiting servant. “It was a simple matter. I’d rather return here than linger in London over something trivial.”
