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“Yes,” Jane replied. “He is to escort me on a stroll.”

“Ah, a romantic walk. If only an officer would invite me!” Lydia affected a pout. “I am far more lively than any of you, and officers like that.”

“They like a good deal more than a lively girl,” Mr. Bennet said. “I will not have you girls making a fool of yourselves over a man in a red coat. A militia man cannot support you as a lady ought to be supported. They look dashing, but in truth, they are rarely in a position to take a wife.”

Lydia’s perplexity made Elizabeth chuckle under her breath. “What do you mean? They are all handsomely dressed and behave with perfect propriety.”

“In public, they may.” Mr. Bennet looked up. “A colonel may have enough of an income to marry, but even the officers are second and third sons, or poor heirs to estates. No, my dear Lydia, as silly as you are, I would prefer to see you settled in a more comfortable situation.”

The youngest Bennet sister mulled over her father’s words, and Elizabeth was glad her father had shown such interest in Lydia. At only fifteen, she was flighty and foolish. Their papa often ignored his girls, and the result was the wild child before them. Hopefully, their father’s sage advice would penetrate the fluffy romantic thoughts Lydia boasted daily.

Mr. Bingley arrived in time for a walk before tea. It was warm outside, but breezy. Clouds were gathering, and it looked as though rain would be in their future.

Elizabeth trailed behind her sister and Mr. Bingley as they strolled the gardens. They did not dare venture far, for fear the heavens would open and drench them. When they returned to take tea with Mrs. Bennet and the others, Mr. Bingley presented an idea.

“I am of a mind to host a ball,” he said. “Caroline is agreeable, and we have discussed a date before the end of November. Perhaps my other guest will have arrived by then.”

“A ball! I should like that above all things,” Lydia cut in excitedly. “We rarely have private balls here.”

“It would be a wonderful way to thank the neighbors for their welcome,” Mr. Bingley agreed.

He asked Jane for her first set, then, and she agreed. Elizabeth watched with satisfaction. It was clear he was in love with Jane. Elizabeth knew what mere infatuation looked like, having witnessed it with Jane’s past suitors, and this was beyond that.

“I shall bring around an invitation when they are ready,” Mr. Bingley said as he departed. Jane and Elizabeth had accompanied him to the door. “Good day, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth.”

He took Jane’s hand and placed a kiss on the back before departing.

“Hush, Lizzy,” Jane scolded.

“I said nothing,” Elizabeth smirked and glided away, gratified that her most deserving sister had at last met a man worthy of her regard.

4

Mr. Darcy Is Not Lost

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy pulled Bingley’s letter from his pocket. His carriage was some hours behind him. Darcy had been eager for a ride and chose to ride his horse the rest of the way to Netherfield Park.

Blast Bingley’s poor writing, he moaned as he attempted to decipher his friend’s illegible handwriting.

Meryton was close. He had learned that at the last posting inn where he had rested and watered his horse. I shall have to keep going and hope I can find the place without speaking to people. He did not like asking directions. It required him to engage in discourse, and Darcy preferred to remain silent.

Darcy had intended to join Bingley in October. His sister’s prolonged illness had prevented him from leaving. Georgiana had taken ill at Ramsgate over the summer. Her ailment had lasted through September and October. Now that she was well, she had gone to stay with Lady Matlock while they secured her a new companion. The old one, Mrs. Younge, had been caught stealing funds from Darcy’s study and had been evicted from the house without reference.

In that same time, Darcy had discovered her friendship with his old friend, George Wickham. He did not know what the two had been working together to achieve, but he arranged for both to take a ship to America. He provided enough funds to help them start life there, and swore if either returned, he would see them ruined. Darcy would do anything to prevent their mischief.

He examined the path before him. It split in two a little ahead. Darcy consulted Bingley’s letter and nodded. Yes, this was the way to go. He nudged the horse off to the left and started down the track.

The path was not wide, and Darcy wondered how a carriage could traverse it. He will have to improve the roads, he thought. It was ridiculous to expect any equipage to make this journey.

After some time, Darcy wondered where the manor house was. All that was before him were trees and fields. A few more minutes passed before he paused.

“I must have taken a wrong turn,” he said aloud.

“Indeed, you have.”

Darcy turned to see a young lady perched upon a rock. Her cloak billowed out around her. Dark curls peeked out from under a simple bonnet. She had a book in her hand.

“Perhaps you can help me find my path?” Darcy asked. “I am looking for Netherfield Park.”