Preoccupied by her beguilement of my senses, I absentmindedly answer, “Yes, my love?”

Her hitched breath and widened eyes slam me back into reality. Thanks to quickness of mind, I am able to salvage the slip of tongue. “Yes, my love of the hunt has been engaged; and I shall immediately run down the crafty, artful jewelry. It may be elusive, but I am resourceful.” By God, am I ever!

Elizabeth looks away, and the nervousness in her voice is evident. “I had heard you and Mr. Bingley were back in Hertfordshire in pursuit of game. You enjoy sport, do you?”

My friend and I had rather halfheartedly ventured out around nine o’clock each morning for a bit of sport, mostly to keep up our pretense. Of course, the true purpose of our return is pursuit of the two eldest Bennet sisters; and we dearly hope the ladies will be game. Bingley appears well on his way to capturing his bird, but I am still wary about Elizabeth taking flight.

“Yes, Bingley invited me to Netherfield to do some hunting.” My throat is still dry, and I long to take another draught of brandy. I audibly swallow before saying, “Birds are in season now.” The image of a little yellow one in Herne’s jaws reminds me of some unfinished business I must attend before leaving the county. “I enjoy shooting but do not much care for the new fidddle-faddle of running down foxes. I have hosted such a hunt at Pemberley, but I … “

“You were outfoxed?”

“No. Actually, I… insisted the fox be allowed to escape.” You, on the other hand, my crafty little vixen, shall not be slipping away quite so easily. “Although I thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of the two-hour chase over almost twenty miles, I found I did not care for the treeing, brushing, and capping aspect of such a lovely creature.”

Embarrassed by the admission of unmanly softheartedness, I clear my parched throat and continue. “But, rest assured, I do not sanction the escape of errant earrings.