“Upon my word, Darcy. You are positively smitten.”
“I am taking part in a scholarly expedition. Nothing more.”
“Of course you are, Cousin. Of course you are.”
They had ridden for several hours when they passed a signpost Darcy refused to read.Four miles to Meryton.
Richard was not so hesitant. “It will soon be dark. We could easily call upon the Bingleys. Bingley is a friendly fellow. And would it not be the course of wisdom to confer with Mr. Bennet about their own plans? We could remain here for the night and speak with him tomorrow. We should stop.”
Darcy moved uncomfortably in his seat. His cousin was unaware that he had mistakenly told Bingley that Jane Bennet did not love him, which had separated the couple for months. Fortunately, Bingley’s devotion to Jane Bennet had proved to be no less than his own to Elizabeth.
Six weeks prior, Darcy had approached Bingley and confessed he was not the most reliable source of information about a lady’s feelings, especially when he did not know her well. A heated exchange of words followed.
Darcy’s apology had been sincere, and he had taken steps to reform his ways. Less than a fortnight later, Bingley—whose friendly nature could never hold onto a grudge—had invited him to stand up for him at his wedding. Unfortunately, Georgiana had developed the sniffles, prompting Darcy to send his regrets.
Now confident of Bingley’s forgiveness, Darcy yearned to stop at Netherfield. Would Elizabeth be visiting her sister? Would she welcome his proposal, or would she wish he had waited for a more propitious time when they were without an audience? The last thing he wanted to do was to make an offer of marriage in front of Richard.
That decided the issue. He would hurry to London and then ride back to Hertfordshire alone as soon as he could escape his cousin. “We have no time for social calls. London awaits us, and we sail when arrangements are in order.”
He could feel his cousin studying his profile. “Of course. How foolish of me to suggest visiting our dear friends when we are so close. Though I confess, I find myself curious about the famous Bennet family. MissElizabeth Bennet is charming. I understand from Bingley that his wife is an angel. I wonder if the younger sisters share their amiable disposition.”
With his voice controlled, Darcy said, “I am sure I cannot say.”
“Cannot say? Surely, you met them all during your stay at Netherfield. When I last spoke with Bingley, he mentioned them all by name, though I have forgotten what they are. I suspect the three youngest must be exactly like their older sisters—interesting females with much to recommend them.”
Darcy forced himself not to react. The effort was tiring. Reining his horse to a sudden halt, he said, “Richard.” He rubbed the back of his glove over his chin. “You will not leave off until you know everything, will you?”
“As always, you are correct.” His cousin reined in beside him. “Admit it, Darcy. You obviously care for the lady.”
Darcy struggled with the admission. “In truth, the treasure hunt is not my primary concern. I would not have accepted the task except that Mr. Bennet is a lackadaisical and indifferent father. He could not protect Miss Elizabeth in a dangerous situation. She is Bingley’s sister-in-law, and I feel a sense of responsibility to my friend.”
A slow grin spread across his cousin’s face, though his manner remained watchful. “You do?”
Irritation clipped every word. “Professor Drye selected Mr. Bennet for his linguistic talent. Miss Bennet’s presence is merely incidental.”
Richard settled deeper into his saddle, prepared toenjoy his cousin’s discomfort. “Incidental.” He chuckled. “And your sudden enthusiasm for ancient libraries has nothing whatsoever to do with the lady’s ‘incidental’ presence?”
“Do not be ridiculous.” As he urged his horse forward, Darcy relented, adding, “Perhaps.”
Catching up with the proficiency of an experienced cavalry officer, Richard became more serious. “My dear cousin, I have known you since your birth. I have seen you decline invitations to shoot with dukes, refuse to attend the most sought-after parties in London, and turn away from heiresses who would consider themselves fortunate to catch your attention. Yet here you are, ready to sail to Egypt in pursuit of dusty scrolls.” His voice dropped, becoming more penetrating. “With a certain young lady whose company you find stimulating.”
“She sees the world so differently, Richard. When she speaks, it is as if everything becomes more vivid.”
Richard’s humor faded into uneasiness. “Please tell me you have not formed an attachment without determining her feelings on the matter.”
With conviction, Darcy answered, “I have reason to be confident that my regard is not unwelcome.”
Richard leaned forward in his saddle. “What reason?”
Darcy’s attention drifted toward the road that led to Longbourn. “I have observed her closely. She engages me in conversation differently than she does with any other gentleman I have seen her speak to. There is an understanding between us. An intellectual sympathy.”
“Intellectual sympathy is not the same as romantic attachment.”
Darcy’s hands clenched on the reins. “When we debated the merits of poetry versus prose, she looked at me as if she were seeing me for the first time. And when she defended her younger sisters against Miss Bingley’s dismissive comments… The fire in her eyes. She was magnificent.”
His cousin followed his gaze toward Meryton. “I understand. You are in love with her.”
Darcy said, “Completely.”
