May 25, 1812
TheBennethouseholdwasrather quiet for this hour of the morning.
Darcy had expected as much. He and Bingley had carefully timed their visit—midmorning, when the younger sisters would most likely be out, flitting about Meryton with their usual unchecked enthusiasm. That, at least, was the hope. The fewer distractions, the better.
It was Bingley who knocked.
Darcy remained half a step behind, hands clasped neatly behind his back, affecting an air of casual disinterest as the door swung open to reveal the Bennet housekeeper. She blinked in slight surprise but curtsied quickly, ushering them into the small front hall before disappearing to inform the family of their arrival.
The moment she was gone, Bingley shot Darcy a glance. “Well, this is a fine surprise.”
Darcy arched a brow. “Surprise?”
“I was half convinced you would find some reason to abandon me at the last moment.”
“I might have done,” Darcy admitted, smoothing a hand down the front of his coat. “But then I recalled how little entertainment there is at Netherfield before luncheon.”
“And that Caroline has declared you to be ‘fascinating.’ She would have set upon you before your breakfast settled,” Bingley chuckled, but the sound had barely faded before footsteps approached.
Mrs. Bennet arrived first, all flutters and exclamations. “Mr. Bingley! And Mr. Darcy! What a delightful surprise!” She turned over her shoulder. “Mr. Bennet, you did not tell me we were to have visitors!”
From somewhere in the depths of the house, Mr. Bennet’s dry voice echoed faintly. “That is because I did not know, my dear.”
“Oh, well! No matter, no matter.” Mrs. Bennet beamed, clasping her hands before her. “Do come in! Girls!”
Elizabeth and Jane entered just as the matron’s summons reached a piercing note.
Darcy’s gaze flickered instinctively toward Elizabeth, finding her poised, composed, that ever-present curve lurking just beside her mouth.
Miss Bennet, however—her shoulders were drawn tight, her expression polite but unmistakably uneasy. Darcy did not immediately understand why. Then he followed the direction of her gaze.
She was not looking at Bingley, as he had expected.
She was looking at Elizabeth, almost as if seeking guidance.
Darcy glanced at Bingley, who was valiantly attempting to mask his curiosity, though his smile was just a fraction too bright, his stance just a touch too eager.
Interesting.
Mr. Bennet had ambled into the room by now, and he leaned against the doorframe. “To what do we owe the honor, gentlemen?”
Bingley straightened slightly. “I was of the hope that we might convince Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth to take a turn about the countryside this morning. The air is fine, and my horse is quite done in from a long ride yesterday, so—”
Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands together. “A walk! How charming!”
Mr. Bennet glanced between the ladies, his lips twitching faintly. “A most neighborly gesture, indeed. What say you, my dears?”
Darcy watched as Elizabeth’s expression softened slightly before she turned back toward Bingley and, with a perfectly poised smile, said, “How very kind of you, Mr. Bingley. I believe a walk would be most agreeable. Do you not think, dearest Jane?”
Bingley’s smile broadened.
Miss Bennet swallowed.
Mr. Bennet waved a hand toward the door. “Very well. Off with you, then. Do try not to lose them, Bingley.”
Mrs. Bennet let out a delighted laugh. “Oh, Mr. Bennet, lose them? Heaven’s sake, he cannot possibly lose them. Did you see how he was looking at dear Jane?”
Darcy barely resisted the urge to groan. Instead, he turned toward Elizabeth just as she met his gaze, her expression rather smug enough to suggest thatshehad arranged the outing rather than him. Then, with a delicate arch of her brow, she turned smoothly on her heel, linking arms with Jane Bennet and leading them toward the door.
