“I am sure she is quite well and does not need you fussing over her,” his sister tutted.
“I shall join you, for it is a fair day for a ride,” Darcy said to Bingley.
I did some quick calculations in my head. If I was right, then this was the chapter where Elizabeth and her sisters walk into Meryton with Mr. Collins and first meet Mr. Wickham, and then Darcy and Bingley bump into them and there’s that little stand-off between Wickham and Darcy. In which case, maybe I could go into Meryton and try to chat with Elizabeth again, because if Darcy was going to ignore me, then she was the only semi-friendly face I had here, and I desperately needed someone to talk to before I went completely mad with anxiety.
“May I join you?”
The group all turned to me in surprise, as if they’d forgotten I was there. I found this happened a lot.
“Of course,” Bingley said, giving me a small smile. “Do you ride?”
Oh, bugger, no, I very much didnotride. My dad had once taken me riding, aged eight, and the horse had decided to canter off and leave me on my backside on the ground, much to my painful embarrassment and my dad’s amusement. I’d sworn never to get on one again.
“Don’t worry, I’ll walk,” I said.
Bingley nodded politely, and the conversation continued around me as if I’d never spoken. Still, I was determined to go into Meryton, and after breakfast, I quizzed a servant on the best way to get there and then set off for the village.
Elizabeth Bennet was famously a fan of country walks, andPride and Prejudiceis littered with scenes of her jumping over stiles and springing through puddles with a glowing complexion and mud-covered skirts. Unfortunately, as a born-and-bred Londoner, I was considerably less well suited to outdoor pursuits, and even though it wasonly two miles to Meryton, I was red-faced and sweaty by the time I got there. The small town was pretty, although much less idyllic than screen adaptations would have you believe: voices of tradespeople yelled up and down the high street, the ground was muddy and rough underfoot, and there was a strong smell of manure (whether it was animal or human, I preferred not to think about).
I wandered up and down the high street for about half an hour before I saw a group of four women arrive at the far end, accompanied by a man in clergy clothing. I recognized Elizabeth and Jane at once, and knew the younger ones must be Kitty and Lydia, the latter of whom looked very much like a fifteen-year-old girl. God, Wickham really was a creep to elope with her.
Speak of the devil, two officers were walking past me in the direction of the Bennet sisters, one of whom must be Wickham and the other Denny, so I hurried to get ahead of them.
“Hello, Elizabeth, Jane,” I panted when I reached them.
Elizabeth smiled at me politely. “Miss Knight, how do you do?”
I was about to reply and ask if I could have a word with her in private when the two officers walked past on the far side of the street, and one of them—Wickham, I guess—bowed toward our group.
Lydia let out a squeal. “Who is he, for I am sure he is the most gentlemanlike fellow I ever saw?”
“Let us cross the street so that we may encounter them when they return and find out,” Kitty said, and the two girls set off at speed toward a milliners on the other side. I saw Elizabeth and Jane share a knowing look, and then they crossed too with Mr. Collins. I followed.
The younger girls stood in front of the shop window, pretending to admire the hats on display, until the two officers came back past.
“If it is not the charming Bennet sisters!” Denny said, bowing to the group.
“Denny, what a fancy seeing you here,” Lydia grinned.
“Ladies, may I be allowed to introduce my friend, Mr. Wickham, who has returned with me from town having accepted a commission in the corp. Wickham, this is Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Kitty Bennet, Miss Lydia Bennet, and…” His eyes stopped on me with curiosity.
“Miss Zoe Knight,” I said.
“And this is our cousin, Mr. Collins,” Jane added.
Collins let out a low, obsequious bow, but Wickham barely looked at him, his attention on Elizabeth. I have to tell you, the book makes him sound like a ten, but the guy was kind of weird looking, with a thin face and eyes that were too close together. Still, I suppose Jane Austen’s idea of a hunk was different from the men in contemporary romance novels.
The officers and the Bennet sisters began discussing the weather, making it impossible for me to talk to Elizabeth, so instead I focused my attention up the street. Sure enough, a minute later I saw two familiar figures on horseback riding toward us.
“Oh look, it is Bingley and his ghastly friend,” Lydia cried, and the group all turned as the two men rode toward us.
Bingley’s face lit up when he realized it was Jane, and Darcy’s eyes naturally sought out Elizabeth. I waited for him to spot Wickham and scowl, but instead, I saw Darcy’s eyes flick away from Elizabeth and settle on me. As they did, they went wide, and I saw something like recognition flash across his face. Oh my God, was he finally remembering me?
“Zoe?” he muttered, and honestly, with that one word, I felt as if my feet had been lifted off the ground in relief.
And then I realized my feet actuallyhadbeen lifted off the ground, as someone had grabbed my arm and was physically dragging me backward, away from the group. I let out a yelp of surprise and tried to wriggle free, but whoever it was had a strong grip. I turned to them in anger and saw it was a woman wearing a huge bonnet that obscured her face.
“Let go of me!” I shouted, but the woman continued to pull me into an alleyway between two shops.
