“Do not go far, my Love. The winter weather looms; we are in for a bad spell.”

“Listen to you, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth joked as she headed toward the door.“You sound like one of the old hags who claim they can tell the weather from their rheumatism.”

Darcy cleared his throat, stopping her exit. “Elizabeth, I have lived my whole life in Derbyshire. I understand the harshness of the winters.Trust me, my Love.”

She stopped in her tracks. “If you are serious, Fitzwilliam, I will follow your lead,” she assured him.

“I think only of you and Georgiana.”

“Do you suppose Lydia will arrive before this weather changes?” Elizabeth now expressed the same concern as he.

Darcy stood and came to where she waited. “A rider brought me some papers from Liverpool today, and he said that the weather turned bad quickly. If he is correct, the storm is at least a day out, but it is likely to be here by early in the day tomorrow. Mrs.Wickham’s coach will be driving into the storm.Your sister may have some uncomfortable hours, but I am relatively certain she will arrive safely.”

“You will go with me to Lambton—I mean to bring Lydia to Pemberley?” Elizabeth inquired.

“I will not leave you to your own devices.” Darcy kissed her fingers. “Have a good visit with the tenants.”

“Mrs. Hudson needs someone to repair her window,” Elizabeth reminded him as she prepared to leave.

Darcy followed her to the door. “I will see to it immediately.”

Elizabeth and Georgiana took Darcy’s small coach for their visits. Often they made their rounds on horseback or in an open curricle, but Georgiana suffered from a head cold, and Elizabeth would take no chances with Miss Darcy’s health in the bitter weather. “We have only two more baskets,” Elizabeth said. She accepted Murray’s hand as she climbed into the coach. He closed the steps, setting them inside. “Thank you, Murray. Tell Mr. Stalling we will see the Baines and the Taylors.”