The two of them stared at one another until Darcy broke into their silent conversation. “The outing has been abandoned, Miss Bennet, but Mr. Bingley did not mind as it gave him an opportunity to await you here.”
Miss Bennet thanked him, and Bingley rushed around the table to fill a plate for her.
“Is Miss Elizabeth still abed?” he asked. It was unusual for her.
“No, Elizabeth is already taking her walk, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bennet informed him. “She feared it would rain later, and she would miss her chance.”
“I see,” Darcy said. He set down his coffee cup and stood. “Good morning, Miss Bennet. Good morning, Bingley.”
He ignored Bingley’s grin and went to gather his coat and hat.
Elizabeth could smell the rain in the air. She took a deep breath and let it out, rejoicing in the autumn cold, the damp, and the freedom of being outdoors. Jane had asked that she not go far this morning, for she feared a storm, and Elizabeth had complied. She was near to completing a wide circular path around the house. She had only just crossed through the back garden on the way toward the small wilderness along one side of the park when the soft patter of footsteps alerted her that she was no longer alone.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said, offering her that small upturn of his lips that almost nobody would recognise as a smile. “I hope you do not mind a little company.”
“You are very welcome, Mr. Darcy.”
He offered her his arm, and she took it, smiling up at him. “Are you excited about the ball at Netherfield?” she asked teasingly.
He shook his head and replied in his deep, serious voice, “I believe you already know the answer to that question.”
She patted his arm. “I believe I do. Poor Lydia and Kitty are more despairing the closer the date arrives. It is a shame they cannot take your place.”
“I would pronounce that a splendid idea, Miss Elizabeth, were it not for the fact that I would rather dance with you than win the approbation of your youngest sisters.” His next words were a little rushed. “Might I ask that you grant me the first set?”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks warming as she nodded. “Yes, Mr. Darcy. I should be very happy to dance the first with you.”
“Thank you,” he said, and Elizabeth glanced up to see a quietly but deeply pleased man. They took a few steps without speaking, only the leaves crunching beneath their feet as they approached the copse that bordered one side of the front drive. Before they could travel the path through the trees, Mr. Darcy gently pulled them both to a stop. “I . . . Would it be too forward to ask you for the supper set as well?”
This was a declaration indeed. Elizabeth met his gaze with delighted surprise and could not make her reply immediately. It was only when he swallowed hard and moved to speak again that she answered. “I would be honoured, sir,” she said. “Are you quite sure?”
He smiled widely now. “Indeed I am, and the honour would be all mine.”
She ducked her head as she felt her cheeks warming. “I shall look forward to it, Mr. Darcy.”
Mr. Darcy placed his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. “Shall we?” He led them toward the trees. “I had not realised,” he said, “that these trees were so close to the front of the house.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied. “In fact, there is quite a good view of the entrance from between two of the trees. We discovered Lydia there one day when she had run away from her lessons. She wished to be far from the schoolroom, but not too far from us.”
“Was she not afraid she would be missed?”
“She knew she would be missed. No, she wished to escape her work but not her dinner.”
Mr. Darcy laughed. “How old was she?”
“Oh, it was not long after we returned from Portugal. That must have been just before she turned twelve. Kitty had been so ill, and she required a good deal of our time and attention. Lydia was feeling neglected, and we were all still adjusting to life without my mother.”
“Perhaps it is not my place to say,” Mr. Darcy said, “but I believe your mother would have been very proud of you.”
“I hope you are right,” Elizabeth said softly.
They entered the little grove, and she was about to point out the very spot where Lydia had once hidden.
It was just a strange lump in the grass at first, but the closer they strolled, the more distinct it became. She halted as her heart began to race, but before Mr. Darcy could ask what was wrong, she rushed forward again.
The lump was a foot. Her eyes travelled up the rest of a man’s body. She crouched down next to him and checked for a heartbeat.
“Miss Elizabeth,” she heard Mr. Darcy say. “Come away.”