ThemessengerarrivedatNetherfield just after eight in the morning. Darcy had been prowling the drawing-room, chafing at the societal sensibilities which prevented him calling on the Bennet family any earlier. He would drop a comforting hand on Georgiana’s shoulder occasionally as he passed by, not failing to note her pale visage.
At the ring of the bell, both Bingley and Darcy sprang to the entryway. “Excuse me, sirs, I have a message for Mr Darcy from Colonel Forster,” the young officer explained. “I am to await a reply,” he continued.
Darcy, stroking his jaw with his hand as he had begun to read, acknowledged the statement with a bare nod of his head. He scanned the note quickly, and his expression fell into a scowl. Wordlessly he passed the note to Bingley.
“No!” Bingley cried as he read. A warning glance from Darcy silenced further outbursts. Chagrined, he dropped his eyes back to the page and finished reading. When he looked up, he caught his friend’s stony gaze.
“Wait a moment, and I shall have your answer for the colonel,” Darcy told the messenger. Bingley followed him into the study, and they closed the door.
“Miss King! She seemed such a quiet, proper girl!” Bingley exclaimed.
“And possessed of a fine fortune and an absent guardian,” Darcy lifted his brow.
“Do you think she is with Wickham? Forster did not sound so certain. Can he have compromised her?”
“Of course. I sincerely doubt, however, if that is the end of his devilry. He intends to marry her, I should think, to obtain control over her inheritance. The colonel had traced her coach toward London, but it is rather soon to discover if they have arrived or if they have journeyed beyond.”
“Yes, so I saw,” Bingley mused. He watched as Darcy paced, his hands on his hips and his mouth pressed tightly. “Well, I suppose we have seen the last of him, have we not? It is a pity, though, for poor Miss King.”
“You think we have? I think he has not abandoned his other quest but has only found a tool. Mark my words, Wickham will not be satisfied until he has wrought some further damage to myself and had the satisfaction of witnessing it.”
“I thought he had done an estimable job at that already.”
“Not by half.” Darcy sighed, dropping his fists. “I shall compose a reply. Would you be so good as to keep Georgiana company for a few moments? I do not like leaving her much alone today.”
“You will be certain the colonel tracks down Miss King’s uncle?”
“I imagine he has already endeavoured to do so, but I shall offer what assistance we can.”
“Stopthecoach!Wait,please!”
Caroline cocked her head at the distant shout from outside. “Did you hear that?” She glanced questioningly to the other occupants of the coach. Anne de Bourgh appeared to be asleep, seeming truly ill. Mrs Jenkinson looked as though she would have liked to agree with Caroline’s ears but dared not lift her voice.
“I heard nothing,” Lady Catherine declared.
Caroline furrowed her brow, listening carefully. “I hear it again. Someone is hailing us from without.”
“Nonsense. I do believe your head is addled, Miss Bingson. You must commence my doctor’s healing soup regimen.”
Caroline made a face. It was scarcely halfway into their journey, and she already wanted to commit the most dreadfully uncivilized deeds. If she heard one more bit of advice from Lady Catherine’s doctor…. “I am quite certain,” she repeated firmly.It is my carriage, after all!
“Daniels!” she put her head out the window. “Is there someone trying to catch us up?”
“Yes, Miss Bingley,” his voice filtered through the box. “A fellow what looks like a parson, on an old post nag. Not much of a rider, I’d say. Do you want I should wait? I worried he might be up to no good, Miss.”
Caroline strained her neck but could not see the figure apparently trailing behind them. A little more loudly now, she could hear another plaintive appeal for the carriage to stop.
“William Collins!” Lady Catherine announced. “Why did you not tell me he was trying to gain our attention? By all means, we must stop.”
Caroline rolled her eyes at the shutters and made the request of her driver. In very little time, the sweating, broad-faced man she remembered from the Netherfield ball had presented himself at the window of their carriage.
“Your ladyship!” He swept off his rented horse and stooped a low bow. “I flatter myself, nothing but Providence could have brought me into your ladyship’s company for the present journey!”
“Collins! Where have you been? I required you two days ago!”
“But… your ladyship, I had only just departed Hertfordshire…. I must acquaint you with my most joyous news! I have secured the hand of the fairest creature who ever walked! I have the very greatest confidence, my lady, that when introduced to the vision who is my dearest Miss Charlotte Lucas, daughter of Sir William-”
“Never mind that, Collins! What are you doing following usbackto Hertfordshire?”
