Every head turned.
Mrs. Phillips had thrust open the window of her house across the lane and was leaning perilously far over the sill. “We are having a card party tomorrow evening! You must all come! Bring the officers! And the gentlemen from Netherfield as well! Lizzy, make sure your Mr. Darcy attends!”
Elizabeth felt mortification descend like a cloak.
Half the street had now turned openly to stare.
Lydia waved enthusiastically. “We shall!”
Mrs. Phillips nodded briskly. “Seven o’clock!” she called before withdrawing inside.
Elizabeth wished the earth would kindly part.
She did not look at Darcy at first. When she did, she found him watching her—not with amusement, nor with condescension, but with something gentle and steady.
He gave her a small smile, and her heart unclenched. The burden eased. “Shall we assist you in your errands?” he asked quietly.
Mr. Bingley brightened. “Yes! We would be delighted, Miss Bennet, if you will allow us?”
“Come with us?” Lydia asked the officers. “Do say you will!”
Wickham inclined his head agreeably, causing Lydia to clap her hands. “How very fortunate we came across you all this morning!”
Elizabeth drew a steady breath and returned Darcy’s look with one of gratitude. “Yes,” she said calmly. “We should be glad of the escort.”
As they paired off one with another, Mr. Wickham moved to walk alongside his cousin. “How long will you be in the area, Darcy?”
“Oh, Mr. Wickham,” she cried, latching onto the officer’s arm, “you must know that Mr. Darcy is quite fixed in Hertfordshire now.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly.
“Lydia—” Jane murmured.
But Lydia pressed on with mischievous boldness. “He is courting Lizzy.”
Silence fell in a small, perceptible ripple.
Elizabeth felt the heat rise instantly to her cheeks.
Wickham stared at his cousin in astonishment. “Indeed?” His surprise was genuine.
Elizabeth watched Darcy’s cheeks turn a faint pink. “Her father granted his permission yesterday.”
“What do Lady Anne and Georgiana say?”
Darcy’s cheeks reddened further. “I have not yet written to inform them.”
Wickham’s brows rose. “Lady Anne and Georgiana do not yet know?”
“Not as of yet, but I plan on sending them a letter this afternoon.”
“Then you must convey my regards when you do,” Wickham replied lightly. “I trust they are well?”
“They are,” Darcy answered. “And I shall.”
The remainder of their errands passed in light conversation and easy civility. Mr. Bingley proved eager to admire every trifling purchase, while Darcy listened more than he spoke, offering the occasional quiet remark that Elizabeth felt rather than heard. Wickham maintained his agreeable manner, though he did not seek her particular notice; he seemed content to walk with his fellow officers.
The sun was beginning to descend as they arrived back home. At the gate to Longbourn, the gentlemen declined to enter. There were bows, expressions of pleasure at the morning’s encounter, and promises of seeing one another again soon. As the others moved ahead, Darcy lingered half a pace behind.
