The market was next. If Elizabeth had been here at all, surely someone had seen her.
He moved swiftly through the throng of merchants and customers, scanning for a familiar face. The fruit seller was haggling over the price of apples with a stout woman in a straw bonnet. The fishmonger called out his wares, waving a fat trout in demonstration.
Darcy stopped at a butcher’s stall where a pair of elderly matrons were inspecting a haunch of mutton. The butcher, a broad-shouldered man with a cleaver at his belt, straightened at Darcy’s approach.
“Sir,” he greeted. “Good day to you.”
Darcy inclined his head. “I am looking for Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She was expected in town today. Have you seen her?”
The butcher frowned, glancing toward the women beside him, as if for confirmation. “Miss Bennet? Can’t say I have. We’ve had a fair number of ladies through today, but none by that name that I recall.”
One of the matrons piped up, adjusting the ribbons of her bonnet. “Oh! I did see the younger Miss Bennets earlier. Laughing and chattering about, as they always do.”
“Yes, but not Miss Elizabeth,” the other woman added, peering at Darcy with keen interest. “She is the cousin, is she not? A very striking girl, with dark curls?”
Darcy’s jaw ticked. “Yes.”
“No, sir, I have not seen her.”
The weight in his chest grew heavier. He gave a terse nod of thanks and moved on. He stopped at the bookseller next, then the milliner, then even the apothecary. Each time, the answer was the same.
No one had seen Elizabeth Bennet.
Darcy was no longer panicked. Now, he was furious.
The pieces fell into place with slow, excruciating certainty. Either he was too late, and someone had got to her first…
Or she had lied. Blatantly. Boldly.
She had walked out of Longbourn that morning with Jane Bennet, claiming to be headed for Meryton, and then… vanished.
A reasonable person would assume the best. His mind spun with every possible explanation, every possible excuse. She would not be so reckless.
She would not be so stupid.
And yet, there was no mistaking the truth.
She had vanished… again.
And by Heaven, he was going to find her.
Chapter Sixteen
Theafternoonsunhunghigh in the sky, gilding the rolling fields with gold as Elizabeth and Jane climbed a gentle slope. The scent of fresh earth and wildflowers filled the air, a soft breeze tugging at their bonnets and loosening stray curls from their pins. It was the kind of afternoon that begged for idleness.
Which was precisely what they intended.
Jane spread out their provisions—a bit of bread, some cheese, and a few apples—on a cloth laid over a clean patch of grass while Elizabeth flopped down unceremoniously beside her, stretching her legs in the sunlight.
“Well,” she sighed contentedly, lacing her fingers behind her head, “I think we have made our escape most admirably.”
Jane gave her a knowing look. “You mean you have spirited me away to avoid Mr. Collins.”
Elizabeth cracked one eye open. “I consider it a service to my dearest friend.”
Jane laughed, shaking her head as she tore a piece of bread in half. “He is… an odd sort of man, is he not?”
“He is a plague upon the good name of cousinhood.”
