Mrs. Bennet wrung her hands. “You will catch your deaths in the cold! Oh, my nerves, my poor nerves—”
But the girls were gone before she could finish, Elizabeth leading the way into the frost-bright morning, her cloak drawn close about her.
***
THE AIR WAS SHARP, their breath rising in white clouds. The ground crackled underfoot as they crossed the meadow and followed the lane toward Meryton.
“Pippin!” Elizabeth called, her voice carrying across the fields. “Pippin, come girl!”
Only the distant call of a crow answered.
“She cannot have gone far,” Kitty said hopefully.
But Elizabeth felt unease prickling beneath her ribs. The thought of Pippin alone in the cold—and of Apollo perhaps also lost—tugged at her heart with an ache she could not shake.
At the edge of the village, they stopped to ask a farmer mending a gate. “Have you seen a spaniel about? Small, white and brown?”
The man shook his head. “No, miss, not this morning.”
They pressed on, peering into shop doors and alleys. “Pippin! Pippin!” Kitty called, her voice echoing down the street.
As they turned onto the green, a cheerful voice hailed them.
“Miss Kitty! Miss Lydia!”
A tall, fair man in the uniform of the militia was striding toward them, his smile confident, his hat tucked smartly beneath his arm.
“Oh! Mr. Wickham!” Lydia cried, her voice bright with delight. “What a pleasure to see you again!”
“Mr. Denny told us you were unwell,” Kitty added eagerly. “He said it was a stomach upset that kept you from the Netherfield ball.”
Wickham laughed lightly. “Ah, Denny says a great many things. It was nothing serious, I assure you, and I am quite restored.” He bowed gracefully to the ladies. “But to be out and about in this cold, you must surely be upon some important errand. How may I be of service?”
Elizabeth returned his greeting with calm civility. “Our dog is missing, sir. She appears to have strayed sometime in the night.”
“Then you must allow me to assist. We soldiers are trained in such matters—tracking and observation are part of our art.”
Lydia clapped her hands. “How gallant! Come, we shall find her in no time.”
The four set off along the path, their boots crunching softly over frozen earth. The mist had begun to thin, revealing bare hedgerows rimed with frost. Wickham, walked beside Elizabeth while Lydia and Kitty darted ahead, calling the dog’s name.
“Pippin!” they called, “Pippin, come!”
“Oh! Mr. Wickham!” Lydia cried, her voice bright with delight. “What a pleasure to see you again!”
“Mr. Denny told us you were unwell,” Kitty added eagerly. “He said it was a stomach upset that kept you from the Netherfield ball.”
Wickham laughed lightly. “Ah, Denny says a great many things. It was nothing of consequence, I assure you, and I am quite restored.” He bowed with easy grace.
“Though I have often seen Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty about the town, I do not believe I have yet had the pleasure of meeting you, or your other sisters.” He continued, addressing Elizabeth.
“Then allow me to introduce myself,” Elizabeth said with calm politeness. “I am Elizabeth Bennet. My other sisters are Mary and our eldest, Jane.”
“Ah! Miss Elizabeth,” he said with practiced warmth. “Miss Lydia has already given me to understand that there are five of you.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “Indeed, sir. A large household, and one not easily kept quiet.”
Wickham’s answering chuckle was smooth, pleasant. “Then I am doubly honoured to find you abroad on such a morning. But surely, to be walking at this hour, you must have some purpose. May I ask what brings you out in this chill?”
