Jane arched a brow. “Not in some time.”
Elizabeth’s grin turned impish. “Then let us remedy that at once.”
She linked her arm with Jane’s and set off across the fields, away from the house, away from Collins, away from anyone who might reasonably track them.
It was only as they crossed the first stile that she considered, somewhat absently, that she had neglected to tell anyone where they were going.
Darcyhadscarcelysetfoot on Longbourn’s gravel drive before Mr. Bennet was stepping out, propping his thumbs in the corner of his waistcoat. “Mr. Darcy,” he greeted, squinting a bit against the sunlight. “You honor us with another visit. I do hope this does not mean my cousin has managed to offend you already.”
Darcy barely heard him.
He had ridden hard from London, only pausing long enough to send word ahead to Bingley that he would be returning. He had not bothered with sleep, nor with a proper meal, and he was quite certain he looked as harried as he felt. But none of that mattered. His mind was focused on one thing only.
Elizabeth.
She was here—she wassupposedto be here.
And she was not safe.
He forced himself to bow in greeting, to respond with some semblance of civility. “I apologize for calling unannounced, sir. I was hoping to speak with you.”
“Ah, well. That is most gentlemanly of you.” Mr. Bennet stepped aside, motioning toward the house. “By all means, come in. Mrs. Bennet shall be pleased to boast of the company we are keeping.”
Darcy hesitated, scanning the grounds. “Is Miss Elizabeth within?”
“I believe she and Jane have gone to Meryton. But I should not expect them to be long. I believe they have gone to call on Mrs. Philips, and her company is best enjoyed in small doses.”
Darcy exhaled slowly, clenching his jaw. That was… acceptable. Somewhat. She was in a populated area. She was not alone.
But it was still a risk.
And he could not ignore the gnawing unease creeping through him.
“I do not wish to trouble you,” he said carefully. “If the ladies mean to walk back soon, I might take the opportunity to escort them home myself.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes flickered with something sharp—something knowing. For a moment, Darcy feared the older man might press him for an explanation.
But then, to his relief, Mr. Bennet only shrugged. “As you like. Though if you mean to play the role of country neighbor, you may as well take tea before you go.”
Darcy forced a tight smile. “Perhaps another time.”
He turned sharply on his heel, remounting his horse before his tension could betray him further.
Meryton.
If Elizabeth was there, he would see her with his own eyes and make sure she got home in one piece.
And if she was not—
He was not yet prepared to consider that possibility.
Thetownbustledwithits usual midday activity—merchants calling out their wares, ladies clustered at milliners’ windows, a few officers in their bright regimentals tipping their hats as they passed.
Darcy ignored all of it.
He scanned the faces, searching for a bonneted figure in a pale blue walking gown, for a flash of dark curls, for that particular lift of the chin that always—always—gave her away.
Nothing.
