Bingley stretched his feet out as far as the carriage would allow, sighing in satisfaction. “Well, Darcy, I must say, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth have made this journey far more enjoyable than I could have anticipated.”
“You anticipated much, then?” Darcy replied, arching an eyebrow.
“Oh, come now! You cannot deny it has been a welcome distraction.” Bingley’s grin was far too knowing. “And for you as well, I think. I have seen you conversing more today than in all our outings last month.”
“Politeness demands it.” Darcy looked away, feigning interest in the passing scenery. “Miss Elizabeth has… an engaging wit.”
“An engaging wit, yes. And a smile that could thaw the River Thames, no doubt?”
Darcy shot him a glare. “Do you ever cease, Bingley?”
“Not when I am on the scent of a good story.” Bingley laughed. “And I think there is one here. Tell me, Darcy—when was the last time you spent so much time in conversation with a lady without a single obligatory dance or card game to sustain you?”
Darcy turned sharply. “Is this your new occupation then? Chronicling my interactions?”
Bingley merely grinned, unrepentant. “I find it endlessly fascinating. And I suspect the young ladies do, as well. Miss Elizabeth seems quite… well, I think you know what I mean.”
“If you’re referring to your habit of being absolutely transparent, I think everyone knows what you mean, Bingley.”
“Admit it, Darcy,” Bingley said, crossing his arms with smug satisfaction. “This journey has been entirely worthwhile.”
Darcy gave him a warning look. “I have never denied the advantages of a rural setting, but if you insist on reading more into a polite conversation—”
“Oh, I insist on nothing,” Bingley interrupted with a grin. “It’s you, Darcy, who seems determined to read nothing at all.”
Darcy said nothing, but his gaze flickered once more out the window, watching the landscape change as they neared Meryton. He had no idea what lay in store for him at Netherfield, or how often he might see Miss Elizabeth. But he could not deny a strange, heady anticipation settling in his chest, making him almost eager to reach their destination.
The carriage slowed asit drove through Meryton. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy’s coach rolled to a stop outside the inn, where they meant to pass the night, while Jane and Elizabeth’s rumbled on toward Longbourn. Elizabeth glanced at her sister just in time to catch Jane’s hand drifting up toward the window, her fingertips brushing the glass as she gave the faintest wave to Mr. Bingley. She blushed deeply, lowering her hand with a bashful smile, but Elizabeth said nothing.
As they neared Longbourn, the house came into view, its windows ablaze with warm candlelight against the growing dusk. A soft flurry had begun, dusting the fields and trees in white, making the familiar sight of home look almost magical. But before the carriage had even come to a full stop, the front door flew open, and Mrs. Bennet, with her bonnet askew and shawl hastily tied, bustled out, wringing her hands as she squinted through the twilight.
“Jane! Lizzy! Oh,wherehave you been? I thought you’d fallen into a ditch, or else that the coachman had run away with my girls!” she fretted, waving wildly for them to hurry out of the carriage.
“Oh, Mama,” Jane soothed, stepping down and greeting her mother with a warm embrace. “The journey was longer than usual owing to the roads, but we are perfectly well.”
Roads, indeed. Elizabeth followed, laughing as her younger sisters Lydia and Kitty came rushing out of the house, their skirts flapping and faces aglow with excitement.
“What took you so long? I thought you’d be here hours ago!” Kitty exclaimed.
“Did you bring anything back for us?” Lydia demanded, her eyes bright with anticipation.
“I daresay, we have been spoiled thoroughly by Aunt and Uncle Gardiner,” Elizabeth replied, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Yes, there are gifts for each of you, but you will have to wait until my trunk is taken up before I can dig them out.”
“Oh, then hurry!” Lydia pleaded, tugging at Elizabeth’s cloak as if to hurry her along.
Before Elizabeth could respond, Mr. Bennet appeared in the doorway, one eyebrow arched in his usual sardonic amusement.
“Welcome back, my dear girls,” he greeted. “Tell me, should I be bracing myself for any heartbroken suitors chasing you back from London, or have you both been so ruthless as to leave all your conquests thoroughly crushed and are nowlooking to wreak fresh havoc on Hertfordshire?”
Jane’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink, and Elizabeth gave her father an arch look. “Papa, I can assure you that we have not left any gentleman in ruin. As for the gentlemen of Hertfordshire…” She gestured around them at the merry chaos. “I think they shall have to brace themselves once again.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled, waving them inside. “Well, be gentle with them, at least for my sake. Now come, both of you, before your mother’s fretting shakes the rafters loose.”
As the girls made their way inside, their mother peppered them with questions, asking for every last detail of their stay, though Jane excused herself to go upstairs and change for dinner. Elizabeth reassured her younger sisters once again about their gifts, laughing at their excitement as she pried their hands from hers to start for the hall.
Finally, as Mr. Bennet turned to head toward his library, Elizabeth made good her efforts at escape, glancing over her shoulder before following and quietly slipping in after him.
Elizabeth waited until the door had clicked quietly shut behind her, then crossed to her father’s desk, folding her hands in front of her. Mr. Bennet had already settled back into his chair, spectacles perched on his nose, a hefty volume open on his lap. He glanced up, eyebrows lifting in mild surprise at her hesitation.
