“I have no wish to speak ill of anyone, but if you and Mr. Bingley are to spend all of your time shooting, that would mean I would have to spend all of my time with his sisters.”

“I understand. You need say no more.”

In the week that followed, Darcy spent a fair amount of time with Miss Montford and her family and friends. He found Letitia to be a lovely woman, who deserved the high praise she received for her many accomplishments. Her only flaw was that she was rather dull, and he was sure he would not have noticed just how lacking she was in any sense of irony or wit if it had not been for Elizabeth Bennet.

Elizabeth was unique to his experience. She liberally voiced her opinions but seemed unaware of the accompanying hazards, or maybe she didn’t care. No matter. There was an excellent chance he would not see her again as he was determined to spend most of his time shooting and riding and had no intention of attending social events in the neighborhood. In ten days’ time, he would return to London and begin a courtship with Miss Montford in earnest.

Fortunately, the approach to Netherfield did not require that he pass through the village of Meryton as he was sure its inhabitants would assign some romantic reason for his return. As he turned down the lane, his only thoughts were about Bingley and if he had made the necessary arrangements with the gamekeeper for the shoot, but he noticed that at the bend in the drive, a woman was walking toward the manor. Much to his surprise, it was Elizabeth Bennet.

After dismounting, he took his horse by the reins and walked toward her, wondering all the while what on earth she was doing. Elizabeth turned around and greeted him, giving the appearance that there was nothing unusual about a young lady, miles from home, walking down a muddy lane.

“Miss Elizabeth, what are you doing here?”

“I have come to visit my sister. Have you just come from town, Mr. Darcy?” she asked, after looking at the amount of mud on the horse’s hooves.