Page 72 of Mr. Darcy's Complex Courtship

I bowed and attempted to appear sanguine, or at least not dour, when I met her wide-eyed stare. “Good day, Miss Catherine. Might I impose upon you to give Miss Bennet a message for me?”

“Miss…um…do you mean Lizzy?”

“Yes. You see, when I last spoke to her—”

“Excuse me, but she is not here.”

“Oh? Where is she?”

“She and Papa left yesterday on a trip. They are to stay at the home of Mr. Baxter. He is an old friend of my father’s.”

Yesterday.Then Mr. Bennet must have taken drastic action to keep Elizabeth from me—but I should not be deterred. “Where did they go?”

“Mr. Baxter lives in Bedford.”

“Do you know how long they expected to remain there?”

She shook her head. “Oh wait—yes, Papa said they would stay for a fortnight.”

“Thank you, Miss Catherine. You have been very helpful.”

“You are welcome.” She gave me a shy smile.

I parted from her and returned to Regal. I must depart for Bedford at once. Somehow, I should find a way to see Elizabeth.

Bedford

Elizabeth

“Here we are.” My father directed me to the carriage window as we drew to a stop. “This is Baxter’s residence.”

The charming stone structure, perhaps half the size of Longbourn House, stood nestled between hawthorn trees, honeysuckles, and patches of blooming yarrow. Mr. Baxter resided less than fifty yards from the wood Father had mentioned.

A diminutive butler of perhaps forty years of age answered Papa’s knock and conducted us to the vestibule, where he took our hats and coats.

Rhythmic footfalls drew my gaze to the hall, where Mr. Baxter strode towards us. Although an abundance of grey hairs had infested his pate since we last met, his apparent agility defied his years. His round, merry countenance—a bit reminiscent of Sir William Lucas—inspired my grin.

Mr. Baxter gave Papa’s hand a hearty shake. “Bennet, I have seldom been more surprised and pleased than when I received your express. At long last, you are here.”

“Forgive me for taking so long to make the trip, old friend.” My father patted Mr. Baxter’s shoulder. “You look well and as spry as ever.”

“My arthritis comes and goes, but this has been a good week.” Releasing Papa’s hand, Mr. Baxter moved before me. “And you have brought this delightful rose with you. This could not possibly be the same Lizzy who leaped through your meadows like a roe deer and sneaked lizards into the house.” His merry eyes gleamed.

“The very one, I am afraid. These days I am content to admire reptiles from a distance.”

“Well, I am overjoyed to welcome you here.” A maid appeared at Mr. Baxter’s side. “Ah, here is Rachel. She will show you both to your rooms. When you are settled in, come back downstairs and join me in my parlour.”

Rachel led us to adjacent chambers. The room designated for me, though rather small, provided a bucolic view of the woods.

Upon our return downstairs, a footman directed us to the parlour. Mr. Baxter called for refreshments. When the provisions arrived, I poured the tea whilst Papa described our accommodations at the Grey Fox Inn at Steventon, a charming historic building. The night before, we had enjoyed a delicious and filling dinner there, which consisted of beef stew with raspberries and biscuits for dessert.

I passed steaming cups of tea to Mr. Baxter and my father.

Papa winked at me, then aimed his smile at his friend. “You may be interested to know I have a budding authoress in the family. Lizzy is writing a romance novel.”

“Indeed?” Mr. Baxter’s sight locked upon me. “How much have you written so far?”

“Six chapters.”

---