Elizabeth leapt to her feet, tied her bonnet, and ran back toward Longbourn, her eyes alight.
Chapter two
Meryton, Hertfordshire, September 1811
Fitzwilliam Darcy looked out the carriage window as they entered Meryton. He had expected a middling country village and found, instead, a place more orderly than he would have expected of such a village. Shop windows were clean and neatly arranged, the buildings well-kept rather than merely repaired. Even the houses near the green showed signs of care, with flowers set out more from habit than display.
One shop in particular caught his attention: a bookseller, its modest windows nevertheless well stocked.
As the carriage turned down a lane, Darcy leaned back in his seat and allowed himself to consider that the visit might not prove as trying as he had anticipated. Netherfield itself confirmed the impression. It was well situated, the land fertile, the gardens carefully maintained. Bingley, for all his easy manner, had chosen sensibly.
Darcy had long valued Bingley’s easy good nature; it complemented his own reserve. The carriage came to a stop, and Darcy stepped out, looking up at the steps leading to the frontdoor. At the top, beside her brother Charles, stood Miss Bingley, raising her hand in greeting.
Darcy suppressed a sigh. This, he reminded himself, would require patience. After the necessary civilities, Darcy took the first opportunity to withdraw.
He closed the door of his bedchamber behind him and paused, leaning briefly against it. Removing himself from Miss Bingley’s company had proved more difficult than he had anticipated. He resolved, therefore, to change into his riding clothes and take a brisk ride before attending the evening’s assembly, an obligation Bingley had pressed upon him.
As he made his way down the stairs and out of the house, Darcy felt his spirits lift slightly. Miss Bingley would, no doubt, be occupied with her toilette, and he would enjoy a short interval of freedom.
***
Elizabeth was walking briskly down the lane toward the Smiths’ cottage. She glanced back and saw her maid, Millie, following with a second basket and struggling to keep pace. Elizabeth smiled and slowed until Millie caught up.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Lizzy,” Millie said, a little breathless.
“There is no need,” Elizabeth replied as they set off again. “But I should like to deliver these supplies and return to Longbourn without delay. You know how my mother is on the day of an assembly, and she will already think me remiss for not having spent the morning in preparation.”
As they approached the cottage, the door flew open and little Emma Smith ran toward her as quickly as her short legs would allow.
“Miz Lizzy! Miz Lizzy!”
Elizabeth set her basket down and, as soon as Emma reached her, lifted the child and turned her once in the air before settling her against her hip. “And how are you today?” she asked gently.
Emma’s expression grew solemn. “Mama tired.”
Elizabeth stooped to retrieve her basket and continued toward the cottage. Giving Emma a small, reassuring squeeze, she said, “I am sure you are doing all you can to be a good girl.”
Together, they entered the cottage. The lane lay quiet once more.
***
Darcy sat upon his horse, pausing a moment as he surveyed the lane. He had noticed the two women earlier and now found himself watching as the younger, addressed by the child as Miz Lizzy, stooped to lift the little girl and turn her lightly about.
He was surprised to find himself smiling at the sight. More surprised still that he had done so at all.
From her dress, Darcy judged her to be the daughter of a local landowner. It was simple in style, but well made, and worn with an ease that suggested both good sense and familiarity with her place in the world.
Realizing that his attention lingered longer than propriety allowed, Darcy turned his horse toward Netherfield and urged it forward. After a moment, he glanced back, expecting the cottage door to open again. It did not.
He smiled faintly and wondered whether she might appear at Bingley’s assembly that evening. He had scarcely turned away when a sudden scream echoed from the cottage. Darcy started, and his mount shifted beneath him, ears flattening as another cry followed, this one unmistakably distressed.
The cottage door burst open and the maid he had seen earlier hurried out, scarcely noticing him as she ran back along the lane.
Darcy hesitated only a moment. Then he dismounted, secured the reins to a nearby tree, and went quickly to the cottage, but stopped short at the door. Another scream sounded within, and that decided him.
Darcy pushed the door open and stepped inside.
***
