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“Oh, I agree with you completely, William.” Caroline joined the fray, her expression indicating she relished this newfound alliance with her nephew’s handsome friend.

“Girls, especially, require a very strict course of instruction. A girl should learn to sing and play an instrument, to draw and paint, to dance, and to learn French, and above all, she must learn to conduct herself—by her speech and actions—as a proper young lady.”

“I would add that she must develop her mind as well, through reading.”Darcy glanced over at Elizabeth, who had shut her book with a snap.

Her eyes flared with the thrill of debate when she responded. “I now know why you’ve met so few accomplished women. Given your unrealistic expectations, I wonder whether you’ve ever met any.”

“You are so critical of women in general?”

“I’ve never met this paragon of virtue you describe. It’s a little much to ask of an ordinary human being.”

“Miss Bennet,” Caroline said in a condescending voice. “Perhaps you have not had the social opportunities William and I have. I can assure you, dear, that truly accomplished women do exist.”

Darcy frowned at Caroline but said nothing, and Elizabeth returned to her book. He made his phone call to Maggie, and Louisa began talking about her rose bushes, to the relief of all the others in the room.

After an hour, Jane declared herself tired and suggested she and Elizabeth retire for the evening as they still had a significant amount of work to do the next day. The Bennet sisters had hardly left the room when Caroline began criticizing Elizabeth without lowering her voice.

“Jane is a sweet, lovely girl who seems to know her place, but Elizabeth Bennet is one of those young women who try to elevate their own importance at the expense of other ladies. Thank goodness, I have outgrown such mean-spirited arts to try and draw men’s attention.”

Darcy set his coffee cup aside. “Yes, I agree that any petty, conniving means of captivating attention are objectionable. It is unfortunate that there are women who find such methods acceptable, for in truth, men find them completely the opposite.” He stood.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Charles. Dinner was delicious as always, Caroline, Louisa. Do make sure to thank Nan on my behalf, won’t you? ”

Caroline bade him goodnight, looking a little unhappy and confused.

Darcy paced across the floor of the Bingley home, half-ready to kick himself for his tomfoolery.

Maybe he should turn tail and run off before anyone but Nan knew he was there.

Showing up unannounced at Netherfield meant he was taking a chance on encountering only Caroline.

He always tried to avoid encouraging her, but Charles had said the Misses Bennet were returning home tomorrow afternoon, and for Darcy, crossing paths with Miss Bingley was a risk he was willing to take.

This might be his last chance to see and talk to Elizabeth without her uncle standing over her shoulder or that brood of sisters clustering around her.

And if they weren’t around, then Charlotte Lucas was with her, giving him that smug look that suggested she could see right through him.

Damned nosy woman!

At least Elizabeth seemed oblivious to his interest. Of course, why wouldn’t she be? She didn’t know him like busybody Charlotte who had lived in this little town all her life. Elizabeth didn’t know he never paid the local young ladies any mind.

He blew out a sigh. What was he thinking, coming here today?

He was behaving like a schoolboy. Oh, he admitted he had been mildly intrigued when he saw Elizabeth Bennet on the train that day last summer.

After all, she had a pretty face, a nice smile.

Then she appeared at the station, talking with Georgiana and the girls as he stepped off the train.

She observed his family with curiosity but without passing judgment.

Gigi certainly seemed to like her at any rate.

Then, he saw her sitting there in the wagon as they waited at the crossroads, looking straight at him, bold as brass, like a queen amongst the suitcases and hay.

Each Sunday at church he found his gaze drawn to her.

She had made him into quite a devout man these days too.

He had not been to church that many Sundays in a row since he was a boy.

Even after all these little encounters, he might have been able to keep her off his mind, if it had not been for Maggie. Every day, it seemed his niece had something else to say about her:

“ Elizabeth is so pretty.”

“Elizabeth is so nice.”

“Elizabeth liked my dress.”

“Elizabeth has the same name as me.”

Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth… What was it about Elizabeth?

Not beauty per se. Jane was actually more beautiful.

Charles was right about that, but Elizabeth was not only physically attractive—she was more.

Her eyes sparkled with wit and intelligence.

Her smiles were bright and open—he loved to see them, although she rarely turned one his way.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet was outspoken, but she was kind to people. Even though Maggie was only four, she was a good judge of kindness and sincerity. After all, the little rascal avoided Caroline Bingley like the plague.

Elizabeth was also brave in very trying circumstances, demonstrating admirable character. Darcy had heard the talk in town and knew that Dr. Bennet was going to have a hard time making ends meet, at least this first year.The man had seven mouths to feed and no harvest.

Her situation was even more lamentable because Elizabeth was smart enough to know what she had lost. What, he wondered, she could have done with her life if her family had been able to stay in Chicago?

She could have been a teacher, married a rich, college-boy off Lake Michigan, been the toast of her upper-middle class neighborhood.

So, why would a bright, lively twenty-year-old girl like that want any attention from a thirty-year-old farmer?

Even if he did own half the county, he was still a man who felt old—older than thirty, older than fifty on some days.

Each day ran one into the other, broken only by smiles from his precious little nieces—and now by the wit and charm of a college girl down on her luck.

A girl with fine eyes, rich brunette curls, and creamy porcelain-like skin that glowed above the neckline of her dress.

He berated himself for thinking of her in that way when he knew he should not act on those feelings.

Suddenly, he made up his mind. He was leaving before he made a complete ass of himself.He turned and grabbed his hat as he hurried out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Darcy strode by the hedge separating the driveway from the flower garden.

He made a beeline for his roadster, halting in mid-step when he heard female voices.

He froze in place, hoping he remained unseen.

The last person he wanted to see him escaping was Caroline Bingley.

The woman always made him squirm, like his tie was too tight.

Louisa was less problematic; she actually seemed to realize she was too old for him.

Caroline, though, was only a few years older than he—and for her, that meant he was fair game.

In another life, he might have even considered her had she not been such a cold, detached shrew.

As the voices continued, he realized that they didn’t belong to the Bingley sisters but to the Bennet sisters.

Now he froze for a completely different reason.

He strained to hear their conversation, chastising himself for eavesdropping.

As he listened, he realized, from their conversation, they hadn’t seen him at all.

“I sent a message to Uncle Ed this morning.” That was Jane’s voice. “He should be here around one o’clock tomorrow.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Oh, Jane.” He glanced around guiltily and closed his eyes.He was going to indulge himself in the sound of her voice, just this one last time. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’ll be glad to get back home.”

“It hasn’t been so bad, has it?”

“No, I suppose not so bad. Your charming friend Mr. Bingley is very kind and attentive.”

“He’s not my friend, really. Although he is charming.”

“But his aunts seem to want little company at all, except for Mr. Darcy. They certainly don’t seem to be very fond of us. I keep waiting for Miss Caroline to bark at me to serve her tea until I see poor sweet Nan appear. Boy, wouldn’t you hate to have that job?”

Jane giggled.

Elizabeth lowered her voice. “I tell you one thing I will miss, though.”Darcy leaned closer to the hedge, his hope rising. Might she say she would miss his company?

“What?”

“The bathtub.”

Darcy could hear the smile in her voice, and unexpectedly, he smiled too.

“I know the housekeeper must think I’m crazy. I’ve been in that tub every night—warm running water, lavender soap, soaking as long as I want.”

Darcy found himself visualizing the scene—sensations all but forgotten igniting his blood.

“It’s heavenly.” Elizabeth’s voice was as warm and fluid as the water in the tub.

He audibly swallowed.

“That crunched-up little metal tub in the kitchen at home just won’t be the same.”

Darcy’s eyes opened. Of course, old farmhouse, not lived in for years. No indoor plumbing. No bath. His hand reached up and touched the hedge.The wistfulness in her voice tugged some place deep inside him.

He remained still, letting the rest of their conversation wash over him.Jane and Elizabeth’s voices slowly moved away, leaving him alone beside the hedge. A cold, sharp wind kicked up, and he turned toward his car, feeling all the heaviness of the world in his bones.