Just as he had ordered himself for the third time to turn away and return to Netherfield, a figure appeared where the Longbourn path emptied out into Meryton. It was a woman, bundled in a red wool cloak, a scarf wound around her neck and up nearly to her ears, and a fur-trimmed hood pulled over the whole. She was driving a small pony cart that had probably been rather smart a generation ago.
He did not recognize her, exactly. It was simply that he could think of no other gentlewoman who would be out an hour from dark on such a chilly day, and on her own at that.
He touched the brim of his hat as she drew near.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet tipped her face up and pulled her scarf down to speak. “Mr. Darcy,” she said, sounding quite relieved, “you have saved me a journey. Thank goodness. I was beginning to think Miss Bingley had not received my note.”
He could not tell her what had become of her missive, but he would not prevaricate, either. “I am afraid I do not understand, Miss Bennet.”
She huffed with exasperation. “Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy.”
Was she somehow aware of what was happening at Netherfield? He supposed word might have travelled through the servants, but so quickly? “I do not know what you mean . . .”
Her expression was incredulous. “I sent a note to Miss Bingley hours ago, explaining that Mr. Bingley was thrown from his horse this morning and was taken to Longbourn to recover.”
Darcy was shocked and alarmed. “How . . .? Is he well?”
Miss Elizabeth shook her head. “It was all in the note. I must assume Miss Bingley did not bother to open it?”
He started to answer but stopped. What could he say?
She rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Your friend is resting comfortably, and though his injuries are not trifling, he is in no danger. I trust you will relay this information to Miss Bingley.” Without awaiting his response, she yanked the scarf up to cover her face once more and turned her pony cart towards home.
“May I see him, madam?” he asked stiffly.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Mmph,” she said from behind the scarf.
He shook his head at her, not understanding, and she motioned with her head for him to follow her. It appeared that the decision had been made for him. He was going to Longbourn after all.
Chapter Three
Darcyhadtoadmitto a bit of surprise at the efficiency of Longbourn’s grooms, two of whom met them on the drive without being forewarned. Miss Elizabeth had handed off the little rig, and his own mount had been seen to swiftly at her confident direction.
“Mr. Hill,” Miss Elizabeth said as they entered the hall, “Mr. Darcy is here to see his friend. Will you take him up to Mr. Bingley?” She removed her bonnet, mussing her hair in the process. Then she yanked at her very long scarf. Her father’s butler took her cloak and Darcy’s greatcoat and busied himself putting them away, but she did not wait for him. Instead, she tried to lift the scarf over her head without success.
It was a little like the string on a spinning top, and he had to stop himself from smiling. “May I assist you, Miss Elizabeth?” he inquired politely.
“No, thank you,” she replied, before accidentally winding the scarf a bit tighter. “Oh dear,” she said with a sigh.
He took a half-step forward and asked again. “Will you allow me?”
Miss Elizabeth paused to give him a rather appraising look, and then handed him one end of the offending article.
Darcy took it, and an electric sort of shock coursed through his body. He cursed himself silently. He had not taken into account how it might affect him to have her so near.
“A moment, please,” he told her, his voice unusually hoarse.
Miss Elizabeth took his request to wait as a sign he could not help her, and she began to twist to the right just as he pulled the scarf to the left. She made a little strangling noise and twisted to the left just as he corrected his motion and tugged the scarf to the right.
Miss Elizabeth huffed—she did even that prettily—and glared up at him.
He did not laugh, but it was a near thing. He placed one hand briefly atop her head and said, “Do not move, Miss Elizabeth, I beg you.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she offered him one quick nod before folding her arms across her chest.
Being tall gave him an advantage, for he had a better view of how the garment had been tucked and twisted. He quickly had it unwound and was able to pass it over to the returning Mr. Hill, who, Darcy noted, was watching him rather closely.
“Thank you,” Miss Elizabeth said when he had done. She quickly removed her gloves. She shivered, which made him frown. “I hope you will excuse me.”