The carriage rolled steadily northward, the late afternoon light slanting pale across the winter fields. Darcy sat opposite his sister and stepmother, one gloved hand resting against the leather strap at his side, his thoughts moving far more restlessly than the wheels beneath them.
Only three days had passed since he had dispatched his letter to them by express, requesting they join him at Netherfield. He had followed several hours later, arriving at Darcy House just as the women had finished their supper.
Lady Anne had looked at him with quiet scrutiny. “A ball? You request our presence for a ball?”
“I should value it,” he had replied evenly.
Georgiana, who had been seated beside the fire with her music, had risen at once. “We are to go to Bingley’s estate?”
“For a short visit,” he had said.
Lady Anne had studied him a moment longer.
“And is there some particular reason for our journey beyond Mr. Bingley’s hospitality?”
Darcy had hesitated briefly before saying, “Yes, there is. I shall explain on the journey, if that is agreeable to you?”
His stepmother gave him a long, measuring look, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Yes, very agreeable. I should like to see for myself what you have discovered in Hertfordshire.”
Her agreement to his plan was much different than when he had spoken of it to Elizabeth. He could still recall the flicker in her expression when he told her must travel to London. It had lasted scarcely a breath—disappointment swiftly masked.
“You leave so soon?” she had asked.
“Only briefly. I shall return in good time for the ball.”
“And London requires you?”
“My stepmother and sister,” he had said. “I would like for them to join me here for a time, and I would feel more comfortable escorting them myself.”
Her countenance had altered at once—surprise first, then something steadier. “I shall look forward to meeting them.”
He had assured her of his return. Assured her, too, that he intended to claim the opening set—and, after a pause, the supper set as well.
“You presume a great deal, sir,” she had said.
“I do.”
“And I suppose,” she had answered, the faintest smile touching her lips, “that I shall permit it.”
The memory lingered pleasantly, but then a small jolt of the carriage signaled their departure from the London streets and onto the road towards Meryton.
“Brother?” Georgiana was watching him closely. “Will you tell us now why you want us to come to Hertfordshire?”
Darcy did not answer at once. He adjusted his gloves with unnecessary precision. “I intended to send you a letter,” he said at last, “but I decided it was best to speak of it in person—and without anyone overhearing.”
Lady Anne regarded him with quiet interest. “That implies there is something to be spoken.”
“There is.”
Georgiana leaned forward slightly. “Is it about Mr. Bingley?”
“Only indirectly.”
A small pause followed.
Lady Anne’s voice was calm. “Then it concerns you.”
Darcy inclined his head. “I have been much in company with a family near Netherfield,” he said. “One in particular.”
