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“It is a pity she did not accompany you to Netherfield, sir; we might have formed a little literary society. Georgiana Darcy is a delightful girl, Miss Elizabeth. She is about your youngest sister’s age, but more like Miss Bennet in disposition.”

A little of Miss Bingley’s superciliousness emerged, and Elizabeth wondered what sort of girl might fascinate her. Miss Darcy must be a fearsome creature, if she were anything like her brother. Elizabeth took a step away. “Shall we complete your purchase and find the bookseller?”

It was not Miss Bingley who answered Elizabeth, but Mr. Darcy. “I would be happy to accompany you.”

“Surely you must have come here with a purchase in mind,” Elizabeth hedged.

“I seek a gift for Georgiana, in fact. But I begin to think a book shop would be a superior place to start. Surely ladies prefer to select their own….” He gestured broadly at the various fripperies.

“Not the singular Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Bingley said with a wink at her friend. She began to link her arm through Mr. Darcy’s and then halted, gesturing for Elizabeth to go before her.

Elizabeth led the way; Miss Bingley tarried to purchase her reticule and the ribbon, and so Elizabeth fell into step beside Mr. Darcy. She said nothing; he had chosen to follow her , and if he preferred to do so in silence, she was happy to oblige.

There was a commotion to Elizabeth’s left, near the village square, where her relations were speaking - her sisters fairly squealing - with a cluster of officers.

Jane and Mr. Bingley, who appeared unbothered by the noise, were with them, waving to Miss Bingley as she exited the shop.

Elizabeth diverted from her course to speak to her family, and perhaps encourage them to behave with a modicum of dignity.

She said nothing to Mr. Darcy, but he trailed behind her nonetheless.

Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief at Elizabeth, giving Mr. Darcy a deliberate scowl before resuming her excitement. “Well, Lizzy! What do you think - Mrs. Forster says that her husband is to give a ball for the officers! What do you say to that?”

Elizabeth made a droll face, turning round to whisper to Miss Bingley, who had come to stand beside Mr. Darcy.

“Whenever there is any promise of diversion, Mamma taunts me as if she expects me to dislike the amusement. I am sure I should be very happy to attend a ball where there are partners willing to dance with all the ladies.”

Mr. Darcy certainly heard her; he raised his brow but said nothing as a hint of color crept across his countenance.

Miss Bingley laughed. “Surely she will not expect you to disapprove of every scheme of pleasure. I believe we may have a share of the credit in encouraging Colonel Forster to give a ball. Shall I tell her so?”

“By all means, if you can get a word in!”

Mrs. Bennet was speaking to her sister Mrs. Phillips with shrill enthusiasm, but Miss Bingley dragged Elizabeth along with her as she approached the matrons.

“Madam, what felicity that the good colonel has heeded our suggestion! But Miss Elizabeth and I have another notion to put to you. She tells me your brother owns a first rate warehouse and that his wife is in possession of a keen eye for fashion. Surely your eldest daughters in particular must be looking their best at the ball, and I am always in favor of a visit to the modiste. What if they were to accompany me to London? My brother will likely give a ball ere long; we shall be in need of new gowns.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Bennet let out a wail of pleasure and clapped her hands. Miss Bingley flinched but smiled in the face of such enthusiasm, and Elizabeth only gaped at her new friend.

“Jane! Jane, come here at once, child! Listen to what Miss Bingley says - she wishes to bring you and Lizzy to town for shopping at your uncle’s warehouses! Is it not the most excellent plan you have ever heard?”

Kitty and Lydia instantly began to insist that they also required new gowns and wished to go to London, and without waiting for any answer they loudly asked Denny and Sanderson whether they would look ravishing in fine silk at the ball.

The officers did not appear to mind their wild behavior any more than Mrs. Bennet or Mrs. Phillips, but Elizabeth happened to look over her shoulder just as Mr. Darcy furrowed his brow into a stern grimace.

Jane did her best to mollify Mrs. Bennet’s histrionics, while Mr. Bingley was speaking with his sister about her scheme to visit London.

Elizabeth could bear no more of the mortification that assailed her, and she slipped away to visit the booksellers on her own.

Or so she thought - once again Mr. Darcy silently stalked alongside her.

Elizabeth drew in a deep breath and let out a hum of contentment at the pleasant smell of the shop, and lingered over a display of newly arrived volumes near the front.

Had she no concern for funds, she might have carried them all off with her.

Mr. Darcy also examined the books, and she wondered about his grand library - here was a man who could leave this shop with as many volumes as he chose.

“I am not surprised to learn that you are a reader of novels, sir.” Elizabeth had not moderated her volume, and an older man at the back of the shop peered at Mr. Darcy with affronted derision. Elizabeth grinned.

Mr. Darcy looked up at her, the corner of his lips twitching. “Why is that?”

“In reading novels, one observes the doings of others, though they are but fictional characters, without actively participating in the story. It is no little difference to your behavior in company, ever observant.”

“Am I not an active participant when I go out in society?”

Elizabeth thought that Mr. Darcy ought not go out in society at all, for he only made people uneasy.

She had no wish to insult the man directly, for she would have in turn forfeited her right to resent his slight to her at the assembly.

She clung to her moral high ground, and answered cryptically, “That is certainly something to ponder.”

After examining a few collections of poetry, Elizabeth was hailed by Mrs. Pruett, the proprietor’s wife. “We received a new shipment, and held back the two volumes you asked about last month.”

Elizabeth smiled, bouncing up on her toes a little as she gave a clap of her hands. “Excellent! I may be traveling soon, and I shall have something new to read on the journey. One must always have something sensational to read when travelling.”

The kindly woman asked Elizabeth to wait as she retrieved the books, and Mr. Darcy came to her side.

“Had you not opened the subject of books with Miss Bingley, I might have forgotten that my sister wrote to me of a few books she has lately acquired while staying with our aunt in London. I wrote down the titles, hoping that I might find one or two. The library at Netherfield scarcely deserves the word, but perhaps I shall ask the shopkeeper.”

This was a rather long speech for Mr. Darcy, but his countenance lit in a singularly charming manner as he spoke of his sister. “What sort of books does Miss Darcy favor?”

“Poetry and novels, of course, and plays - she is very fond of Shakespeare. Recently she has taken an interest in reading histories.”

“All of my favorites. May I?” Elizabeth reached for the small folded paper on which he had written out three titles. He allowed her to examine the three titles written there, and Elizabeth laughed in amusement - she and Miss Darcy had similar tastes indeed.

Mr. Darcy seemed to await some commentary, but Elizabeth instead took a pencil off of Mrs. Pruett’s desk and added two titles she had recently enjoyed, a novel and a history of the Wars of the Roses.

When Mrs. Pruett returned with Elizabeth’s books, Mr. Darcy asked her about the titles on his list, and the matron laughed. “Well, the first two I have just given to Miss Bennet, and I am afraid they are the only copies. I do not have the third, but I believe I may have the two written in pencil.”

Mr. Darcy looked over at Elizabeth as she smiled bemusedly at him. After a moment of triumph she felt a little guilty, and offered him one of the two books. He hesitated, but she moved her hand closer, and finally he accepted Walter Scott’s English Minstrelsy . “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”

The tone of his voice sent a chill down Elizabeth’s spine; she recalled that he had called her pretty, if Miss Bingley was to be believed.

She turned away, extracting a few coins from her reticule to pay for her novel.

When she turned back, Mr. Darcy had purchased the historical volume she had recommended as well as the collection of poetry and her novel, which he then handed back to her.

She looked at him with confusion. “Mr. Darcy, I….”

“It is yours to keep, and I thank you for the other two. I thought perhaps once I have read the poetry and you the novel, we might make a trade of them.”

Elizabeth found herself nodding in agreement, though she could scarcely speak from astonishment. Fortunately, Miss Bingley entered the shop and greeted them. She stopped to examine a book with highly embossed gold scrollwork across the leatherbound cover, and then turned her gaze back to Elizabeth.

“Happy news, Miss Eliza! My brother and I have worked out all the details for a little jaunt down to London in a few days. You and Jane shall stay a week with us, unless your aunt and uncle wish to steal you away to stay with them.”

“That is exciting indeed - but you may call me Lizzy , if you like.”

“Very well, Lizzy; you may call me Caroline, or Caro if you prefer. How gay we shall all be in London! And you are very welcome to accompany us, too, Mr. Darcy.”

Miss Bingley smiled encouragingly at him, but Elizabeth was oddly perturbed at the thought of him joining their little party.

She reminded herself to think of Jane’s happiness, for surely it would be a fine thing for Mr. Bingley to come to know her sister amongst relations whose behavior was above reproach.