They walked together along the gravel path, the late-autumn wind stirring the fallen leaves at their feet. Whenthey reached a place apart from the others, he stopped. “Miss Bennet,” he said, his voice warm but measured, “I wish to court you, with your consent.”
The words settled over her with the unexpected clarity of something long half-hoped-for but never presumed. “You have my consent,” she replied, her voice bright with pleasure.
They resumed their walk, the formality of the moment giving way to a more comfortable silence. Elizabeth was keenly aware of the nearness of his presence, the easy strength in his stride beside hers. Yet as they turned back towards the carriages, her thoughts strayed briefly to Longbourn—the missing items, the strange noises, the uneasy sense of being watched. She realised, with no small measure of relief, how grateful she was for this time away from it all.
For now, the quiet of Netherfield—and the new understanding between herself and Mr. Darcy—felt like the safest and most welcome refuge in the world.
“I shall speak to your father soon,” Mr. Darcy promised as they neared the church once more.
Elizabeth had scarcely stepped onto the gravel path when Kitty and Lydia descended upon her like a whirlwind.
“Lizzy! Youwill never guess what has happened while you and Jane have been at Netherfield,” Lydia burst out, clutching her arm.
“Not in a hundred years!” Kitty added, bouncing on her toes. “It has been positively dreadful, and yet—oh—most diverting.”
Elizabeth smiled at their eager faces. “Then you had best tell me quickly before I expire from curiosity.”
“I shall begin,” Lydia declared grandly, only for Kitty to interrupt.
“No, I shall, for my tale is the most shocking. Cook was locked in the larder!”
Elizabeth blinked. “Locked… in the larder?”
“Yes!” Kitty insisted. “She went in for a joint of beef and could not get out for over an hour. We only found her because she began shouting so loudly that the milkmaid heard her from the dairy.”
Lydia laughed. “And when they let her out, she vowed she would haunt the place if it ever happened again. Though I daresay she has forgiven everyone now, as she made us seedcake the next day.”
Elizabeth shook her head in amused disbelief. “Was it an accident?”
“No one knows,” Kitty said with relish. “But that is not all—”
“It most certainly is not,” Lydia cut in. “The very next morning, Tom the footman discovered his livery coat missing. And where do you think it was found?”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “I cannot imagine.”
“On the goat!” Lydia crowed. “That horrid old billy that belongs to Farmer Cooper. There it was, parading about the yard with the coat hanging from its shoulders as if it were a great gentleman!”
Jane, who had come up beside them, covered her smile with a gloved hand. “Poor Tom. I imagine the coat was beyond rescue.”
“Oh, it smelled abominably,” Kitty confirmed. “And there was a hole chewed in one sleeve.”
Elizabeth was beginning to laugh when Lydia tugged at her arm again. “And then—more things disappeared. Mama’s coral hair comb, Mary’s best gloves, a silver spoon from the sideboard—”
“And Papa’s snuffbox!” Kitty added.
Elizabeth frowned slightly. “That is indeed odd. And no one knows where they have gone?”
“No,” Lydia said, eyes wide. “And that is not even the strangest part. There have been noises—”
“—in the attic,” Kitty put in eagerly. “Scratching and footsteps, even though the maids swear no one is up there.”
Lydialeaned closer, lowering her voice as though imparting a great secret. “And lights—floating lights—seen in the garden after dark.”
Elizabeth’s brows rose. “Floating lights?”
“Yes!” Lydia nodded vigorously. “Twice I saw them myself from my window. They moved about as if someone were carrying a lantern, but when Papa went out to look, there was no one.”
“Which proves nothing except that your imaginations are too lively for your own good,” came Mr. Bennet’s dry voice as he joined them. He looked over his daughters with mock sternness. “I am half tempted to ban novels from the house if this is the result.”
