With her magazine held close to her chest, Elizabeth left the shop with her cheeks burning. Why had Mr. Darcy bought her a gift? Was this his way of apologizing? Why hadn’t he said anything to her? It was all most perplexing and Elizabeth found herself more frustrated that she couldn’t give the man up in her heart or her mind!

Practically dragging her sisters to the hat shop and away from the friendly officers, Elizabeth bought more ribbon than she originally expected, including a yard of the bright pink ribbon she planned to just give evenly to both of her younger sisters. With any luck, the distractions of ribbon and military officers would keep her sisters from talking about running into Mr. Darcy.

As the girls exited the hat shop with their wares in hand, a familiar set of eyes balefully caught Elizabeth’s as Mr. Darcy’s horse was still tied up outside of the bookshop. With a rueful smile, Elizabeth patted the horse’s muzzle and stroked the dark fur with her gloved hand.

“How are you old boy? Still galloping down hills as wild as the wind?” She laughed as the horse snorted into her hand.

“Lizzie,” Lydia whined, and blew out a full breath to set her mouth in the most perfect pout only the baby of a family can perform.

Elizabeth leaned closer to the horse and pressed her forehead to his muzzle.

It was this vista of Elizabeth greeting his horse that Mr. Darcy spied upon leaving the inn that stopped him in his boots. His neck felt suddenly very hot, and he tugged at his offending cravat for relief. He shook his head and began his way back to his horse once he saw Miss Elizabeth turn to leave.

He wasn’t sure what came over him at the bookstore, to buy a gift for a woman so wholly unrelated to him was a very serious matter but something about that woman was bewitching in the most unsettling manner! He urged his horse in the opposite way of the walking Bennet sisters and began a gallop as soon as he was on the outskirts of town. Taking the longer road around the shire, he would make it back just in time to refresh himself for dinner.

The Bennet sisters were a few yards down the road when a most shrill whistle rent the air and Lydia and Kitty turned around and waved. Elizabeth dreaded turning around herself, but did so to begin chiding the two younger girls for stopping and turning at such impolite behavior.

“A lady does not respond to a whistle from a man,” she hissed.

“Oh shove off, Lizzie, you have your beau and we have ours,” Lydia cried triumphantly, as the two officers hastened to catch up to the ladies. Lydia happily took the arm of Mr. Denny, and Kitty expected to take the arm of Mr. Wickham and was severely put out when she was ignored by the taller man and instead noticed he immediately attempted a conversation with Elizabeth.

“I do not believe I’ve had the honor of an introduction.” Mr. Wickham employed a bow with a flourish making Lydia laugh and Kitty pout by crossing her arms in front of her.

Elizabeth eyed the gentleman with a wary eye, and shrugged. She immediately turned away and began to walk, after all she was not introduced to the man and she had endured her limit of strange behavior for the day.

“Lizzie, don’t be so missish . This is Mr. Wickham, an intimate friend of Mr. Denny. Both are officers in the militia.” Lydia looked up at Mr. Denny to flash him a most catty smile.

Instead of greeting the man, Elizabeth kept walking and dragged her hand across the browned autumn grass lining the road. Kitty jumped on the opportunity to attract Mr. Wickham’s attention back to herself.

“You never told us how you are so well acquainted with Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wickham!” Kitty walked faster to catch up with Mr. Wickham, causing him to look down at the less interesting Bennet sister and practically forcing him to offer her his arm, which he reluctantly did.

“Ah, it’s a sad tale, I tell you. Sad only because of the way the story ends.” He shook his head with a grim expression, while simultaneously noticing Miss Elizabeth’s attention was caught by her sudden rigid stature, though she continued to knock the stalks of grass.

“If you cannot speak of it, we understand,” she finally said, firmly, still not looking at the coupled group behind her.

“On the contrary, Miss Elizabeth. My childhood at the Darcy estate, Pemberley, was all that was idyllic. Old Mr. Darcy was like a father to me, and he paid for me to attend Cambridge with Fitzwilliam.”

The manor house of Longbourn could be seen in the far distance, and Elizabeth felt torn between hearing more about Mr. Darcy’s family life and not hearing anything about the man at all. She heard Kitty ask Mr. Wickham questions but only vaguely marked the answers as she once more dwelled deeper in her own thoughts. It was only when he described Mr. Darcy cheating him out of a living to the collective gasps of her sisters that Elizabeth turned around.

Mr. Wickham was stunned by the fierce scrutiny in Miss Elizabeth’s face, but he kept the much practiced doleful look upon his own countenance.

“You are sharing a most personal story for such a lack of intimates in company, Mr. Wickham.” Elizabeth raised an artful eyebrow at the sandy-brown haired man and eyed him carefully up and down, noticing deep scars on his knuckles. “I cannot imagine being so free as to air my personal failures and failings so cavalierly.”

Wickham glanced skyward in a feigned attempt at showing emotion and silently counted the seconds. He made it to two before his calculated move paid off.

“You are one to talk, lecturing poor Mr. Wickham. The whole neighborhood knows you keep throwing yourself at Mr. Darcy and he never comes to call. Of course Mr. Darcy stole his inheritance. He is not a nice man.” Kitty panted after her longest tirade to date against another sister. The winds began to pick up and a chill made Kitty shudder as her older sister remained speechless in front of her.

“May I?” Mr. Wickham attentively offered Kitty his coat and the two couples continued to walk on, practically leaving Elizabeth alone on the side of the road. With no other choice but to follow behind them, even Elizabeth had to admit she too was chilled to the bone by the sudden change in weather. She quickened her pace to surpass the couples and beat them to the edge of her father’s property at which point she hastened her step to a near jog.

“Lizzie! You’ve returned.” Her father met his wayward daughter at the door to receive a peck on the cheek. He ignored her as she tarried not in the foyer and dashed up the stairs. With a wary eye, Mr. Bennet stepped out to greet the two gentlemen escorting his youngest daughters with a sardonic grin and his hands clasped behind his back. He was never one to forgo a little sport at the expense of a new acquaintance, and his daughters’ beaus were his favorite prime prey.