Page 71 of Mr. Darcy's Complex Courtship

A smile played over Papa’s mouth, and his brown eyes shone. “I want you to accompany me to Bedford to stay with my old friend Mr. Baxter. I thought we should sojourn there for a fortnight. What say you—would you like to take this journey with me?”

“This is sudden. You have not mentioned your friend in a long while.” Mr. Baxter, a former university professor of Papa’s, had stayed at the house many times in my youth, but over five years had elapsed since his last visit.

“Well, I received a letter from him this week, and he reiterated his offer for me to be his guest. Too much time has passed since I have seen my old friend.”

“I should like to go, but are you certain he will not mind if I come?” The older gentleman had always been kind to me and my sisters; yet he was accustomed to living alone.

“Baxter will be delighted—he has always been fond of you.”

“Why have we not seen him in so long?”

“My friend shares my dislike of travelling. He used to journey to London each year to visit a cousin, but the man died in the year seven. And I have been remiss—I have promised to visit him but never did. It is high time I kept my word.”

“When shall we leave?”

“If you can be ready, I should like to depart in two hours.”

Two hours?“Is it not late in the day to travel? Why not go tomorrow morning?”

“It is the height of summer—we have plenty of daylight hours left. And we need not arrive until tomorrow. For tonight, we shall select one of the many inns along the way. Stevenage would be a fine place to stop.”

“I see.” I shifted forwards in my chair. I had never stayed in an inn before; it ought to be diverting. “Yes, I shall be ready.”

“Splendid.” He nodded. “You will approve of Bedford—it is a market town similar to Meryton. Baxter resides near a large wood, so you will have miles of picturesque wilderness to roam, and you will have plenty of time to write.”

“I am eager to see your friend—and Bedford as well.”

“Be certain to bring your manuscript.”

“Why should I do that?”

“My dear, Baxter is a respected author—he has written textbooks for Oxford students on literature and philosophy. You could not find a better person to judge your work.”

I swallowed. “Oh, but it is too soon to show my writing to anyone. Besides, I have scribbled it down in a makeshift form of short-hand that will make sense to no one else.”

“Then you must read your work aloud to us.”

Could I do that? I squashed my lips together. It would be helpful to get their opinions, even if they offered nothing but criticism. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Make haste now. Instruct Sarah to pack your portmanteau and prepare yourself to depart.” He flung his hand in my direction to incite my alacrity.

“Yes, Papa.” I rose and darted from the room.

Chapter 13: Adventures in Bedford

Friday, 3 July

Hertfordshire

Darcy

Idirected Regal to the shade of an elm tree. “Easy, boy.” I removed my hat, wiped the perspiration from my brow, and replaced it. For the past three hours, I had ridden over paths in and around Longbourn Estate with no sign of Elizabeth.

She ought to have breakfasted by now, and the sunny, mild weather could entice her out to the garden. If I waited in the adjacent grove of trees, I may be fortunate enough to glimpse her. At the moment, I did not have a better plan.

I eschewed the avenue in favour of an unobtrusive route through the woods past the house and towards the garden since Mr. Bennet could have asked his servants to watch for me. I tied Regal to a sapling and took a post beneath an elm. Thirty minutes later, I caught a flash of yellow clothing on a dark-haired female. She strode upon the path and sat on one of the benches. I drew nearer and fixed on the lady’s profile; unfortunately, she was not Elizabeth but Miss Catherine. I had never spoken more than a few words to her, yet maybe she could be persuaded to assist me. I continued in her direction. The sound of my Hessians upon the flat stones caused her to turn my way.

Miss Catherine shot to her feet with a sketch book clutched in her arms and curtsied. “Mr. Darcy. I did not know you had returned to Hertfordshire.”

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