A smile, genuine and unguarded, crossed his face. "Ah. The rumors. Miss Bingley informed me of them not two days ago. It seems half of Meryton has concluded we are forming an attachment."
"An easy mistake," Elizabeth said lightly. "They observe Apollo and Pippin's devotion and assume their masters must share it. I hope those rumours do not make their way to Kent.”
“To Kent?” Darcy repeated, glancing at her with mild curiosity. “I should not care where they travel. Those who choose to believe without seeking truth are at liberty to think what they please.”
Elizabeth coloured slightly. “I only thought—well, I heard you were to marry your cousin soon. I suppose rumours of this kind might cause some confusion.”
Darcy’s brows drew together, then he gave a short laugh. “Marry Anne? I see Mr. Collins has been industrious with his tales. No, Miss Bennet, I am not engaged to my cousin, nor is there any arrangement of that kind. My aunt may fancy the notion, but my cousin and I are perfectly agreed that it shall never be.”
“Mr. Collins spoke with much confidence on the matter,” she said.
“His confidence and my aunt’s opinion do not alter the truth,” Darcy replied calmly. “If I am ever to marry, it will not be from duty or convenience but for regard. No arrangement, however proper, can supply that.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard, unsure whether she ought to speak or remain silent. She felt an unexpected warmth rise in her chest—a mingling of relief and something far more dangerous.
Before she could trust herself to reply, Jane’s clear voice called from ahead, “Lizzy! Mr. Darcy! We are returning to the house. The air grows chill.”
Elizabeth glanced toward her sister, grateful for the reprieve. Darcy looked at her once more, his expression composed but unreadable.
“Shall we follow?” he said.
“Yes,” she managed, smiling faintly. “Before we give Meryton any new material for its stories.”
***
THE AFTERNOON WANED into a soft gold haze, and by the time the Bennet sisters took their leave, the lamps in Netherfield’s hall had been lit. The house glowed with quiet elegance, its windows catching the last light of day. Mr. Bingley insisted on escorting them himself, along with Mr. Darcy, MissBingley, Mrs. Hurst, and a somewhat pale Mr. Hurst, who appeared to have been recently coaxed from his chamber.
“My apologies, Miss Bennet,” Mr. Hurst said, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief. “I would have joined you earlier, but I am afraid I have suffered greatly from a bad piece of fish. Abominable stuff. I should have known better than to trust Cook’s optimism.”
Mrs. Hurst gave him a reproving glance, while her brother laughed. “Then we are fortunate to see you on your feet again, Hurst. Though I hope the fish has not spoiled your spirits, for we shall soon have reason to celebrate.”
He turned to Jane, his eyes alight. “I had hoped to tell you earlier, Miss Bennet, but perhaps now is the perfect moment. I am to host a ball here at Netherfield next week. It was, in fact, what took me to Colonel Forster the morning you saw me. The invitations shall go out in a day or two.”
Jane’s eyes brightened. “A ball, Mr. Bingley? How delightful. I am sure all of Meryton will be overjoyed.”
Caroline smiled thinly. “Indeed. I dare say the neighbourhood will never recover from its excitement.”
Elizabeth caught the faint note of disdain and merely replied, “We shall look forward to it most sincerely, Miss Bingley. Few things bring people together so pleasantly as a dance.”
“Quite so,” said Mr. Bingley, laughing. “And you must promise me the first set, Miss Bennet. I shall not rest until you do.”
Jane blushed and inclined her head. “If I am present, sir, you shall have it.”
Darcy said little as they moved through the hall, though his gaze lingered more than once upon Elizabeth, who was fastening Pippin’s leash. The little spaniel tugged toward thedoor, her tail beating the marble floor in joyful rhythm, Apollo pacing beside her in clear reluctance to part.
“Come now, my girl,” Elizabeth murmured, bending to fasten her cloak. “You cannot live at Netherfield, much as you would like.”
Outside, the evening air was cool and scented faintly of rain. The carriage waited at the foot of the steps, the horses shifting in their traces. Pippin barked once, turning a pleading eye toward Apollo, who stood watching from beside his master.
“It appears they share a reluctance to part,” Darcy said quietly as he came to Elizabeth’s side.
"Indeed," she replied with a faint smile. "I fear keeping them apart will soon prove impossible."
His eyes held hers. "Then perhaps," he said quietly, "we should not try to keep them apart. I should like Apollo to see Pippin again. And I should very much like to see you."
Elizabeth felt her breath catch. The simple words, spoken so softly, carried a weight that startled her. He offered his hand to help her into the carriage, and when she placed her gloved fingers in his, she was aware—too aware—of the warmth that lingered there.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she managed.
