Elizabeth snorted, glancing at Jane, who had turned her attention resolutely to her tea.
“Jane Bennet,” Elizabeth hissed, “do you have anything to do with this charming little coincidence?”
“Coincidence?” Jane asked, her tone all guileless and pure, though her cheeks had taken on a decidedly pink hue. “Whatever do you mean?”
Elizabeth scowled and chucked her thumb toward the glass as the gentlemen drew closer to the inn door. “Do not play innocent with me.”
Jane lowered her cup and, clearing her throat, pinched absently at her cheeks and smoothed the way her skirt laid over her knees. “Why, Lizzy, what a preposterous accusation. How could I possibly have known Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were traveling today, or have any notion that they might stop here?”
“Indeed. So, this ‘loose spoke’ that I cannot see, andtheirsudden whim to take tea precisely when our carriage faltered… They are pure happenstance, then?”
Jane took another sip of tea, her gaze fixed firmly on the cup. “I am as mystified as you are, Lizzy.”
“Mystified!” Elizabeth said with a soft laugh. “Then you must have no objections if I… ah, check the air outside?”
“Lizzy,” Jane protested, her voice a low whisper, “we cannot simply… approach them!”
“Oh, can we not?” Elizabeth countered. “We have been introduced, and this is a public place. Surely, we may take the air in company. And besides…” She glanced pointedly toward the men as they made for the door of the inn. “It seems they intend to come to us.”
Darcy was looking impatient, his brow furrowed and his gaze fixed on the ground as he muttered something to Bingley. But Bingley, grinning widely, opened the door and guided Darcy inside with the air of a man entirely too pleased with himself.
As they entered, Bingley’s gaze landed on Jane, and his entire expression brightened. “Why, Miss Bennet! Miss Elizabeth! What a surprise to see you both here.”
“A surprise indeed,” Elizabeth mumbled, glancing at Jane, who had turned an even brighter shade of pink.
Darcy’s brows rose, the barest flicker of surprise in his dark eyes. “Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth.” He glanced sharply at Bingley, then back at the ladies, and his tone held a touch of disbelief. “I had not expected to encounter familiar faces here.”
Elizabeth met his gaze with the faintest hint of challenge. “Nor did we, Mr. Darcy. Though it seems fate has taken a rather lively hand in our travels today. That—” she gestured toward the window, looking outside– “is our carriage, and, as you can see, it has been beset by some woeful trouble.”
Mr. Darcy slanted his head to the side to afford him a view through the window. “Indeed,” he replied, his gaze flickering between her and the driver, who was now intently inspecting the carriage wheel with more scrutiny than seemed entirely necessary. He folded his arms, casting a skeptical look toward Bingley, who was rather pointedly avoiding his eye. “I trust your journey has otherwise been without incident?”
“Oh, entirely smooth,” Elizabeth replied, her tone dry, “until this unexpected mishap. James assures us it is merely a matter of prudence to prevent a loose spoke from causing any… disruption.”
“Prudence, indeed,” Darcy murmured, a faintly amused glint in his eye as he observed the driver’s exaggerated inspection. “One would not wish to overlook a matter of such importance.”
Elizabeth allowed a slow smile. “Quite so. And yet, how fortunate that we find ourselves so unexpectedly… well-accompanied.”
“Yes,” he said, his mouth twitching. “It does seem that chance has conspired most efficiently.” He shot Bingley a sidelong glance.
There seemed little else to do—the gentlemen ordered refreshments, and moments later, a round table near the fireplace was prepared for them all. Darcy and Bingley took seats on either side of the ladies, a configuration that felt both perfectly casual and slightly strategic to Elizabeth. She settled herself between the gentlemen, amused at the coincidence—or the seeming coincidence, rather—and the hint of curiosity she noted on Darcy’s face.
He turned to her with a polite, if slightly quizzical, expression. “I must say, Miss Elizabeth, I was unaware that you and your sister intended to travel. No one made any mention of it to me last evening. Are you returning to your family home?”
“Yes,” she replied. “To Longbourn, near the town of Meryton, in Hertfordshire.”
There was a quick, sharp glance between Darcy and Bingley that did not escape Elizabeth’s notice. Darcy’s expression tightened, and Bingley chuckled, the sound somewhere between sheepish and triumphant.
“A fine coincidence, indeed!” Bingley declared, looking far too pleased with himself.
Elizabeth tilted her head, puzzled. “A coincidence? I believe you have caught me at a disadvantage, Mr. Bingley. What, exactly, is this coincidence?”
Darcy gave Bingley a look that seemed to convey some unspoken reprimand, but he answered Elizabeth, all the same. “We are traveling to inspect a property that my friend intends to lease—an estate called Netherfield, which, I am given to understand, is also in Hertfordshire.”
Elizabeth’s expression brightened. “Why, Netherfield is only three miles from Longbourn!” She glanced at Jane, who was biting her lip and looking down at her lap. “Then… it must be true that the baronet is leaving, after all. Jane…?”
Jane helplessly shook her head. “Charlotte mentioned something in passing in her last letter, but I know no more than you do.”
Bingley and Darcy exchanged confused looks, and Bingley leaned forward, intrigued. “Baronet, Miss Elizabeth? Do you mean to say Netherfield is currently owned by one?”
