Darcy’s eyes darted to Jane, who was watching him with a grim little smile that seemed to say, Let’s see you get yourself out of this one, pal.

“Oh, my friends!” Darcy stammered. “Yes, well, it’s rather embarrassing, but as I have just explained to Miss Austen, that knock on the head really confused me.”

He looked at Jane and saw her triumphant smile fading. “In fact,” he continued, “I know no one in this part of the country. I was simply riding through on my way to London when my horse bolted and ran into the fields.”

“Ah, I see!” said Edward, seemingly satisfied with the American’s nebulous explanation. “I suppose that explains it, then.”

Chapter 22

A short time later they stood at the front gate of Chawton Cottage, where Edward’s carriage waited.

“Miss Austen, I am obliged to you,” Darcy said, bowing at the waist to Cassandra, as he had seen Hudson do earlier.

“Not at all, sir.” Obviously pleased to have the handsome stranger in her debt, Cassandra rewarded him with a radiant smile and returned his overly formal bow with a polite curtsey.

“I hope we’ll meet again before I return home,” Darcy told Jane, who was standing beside her sister and making no effort whatsoever to conceal her irritation.

“I would take great pleasure in such a meeting,” she said, raising her eyes to his and looking straight into them. “For I still have many unanswered questions to ask about your fascinating life in…Virginia.”

Darcy fidgeted nervously beneath her steely gaze, certain that she was about to give him away. He breathed a sigh of relief as Edward stepped forward and addressed her.

“You two shall indeed have another meeting, Jane,” Edward cheerfully informed her. “Have you forgotten that my brother Frank is arriving today at Chawton Great House? You and Cassandra are to dine with us this very evening. And several of your friends will be there as well.”

Edward suddenly broke off his cheerful discourse and cast an apologetic look Darcy’s way. “Of course,” he continued, “we had thought to delay those jolly plans because of Mr. Darcy’s incapacity, but if he is now well enough…”

Forced to make some polite reply, Darcy tried to sound enthusiastic at the unsettling prospect of dining with all the Austen clan and their friends. “I feel quite well now,” he assured Edward, quickly adding, “however, I wouldn’t want to impose on your hospitality, sir.”

In fact, Darcy wanted nothing more than to be taken to his horse so that he could flee from these people at the earliest opportunity. He most decidedly did not want to be forced into a social situation where his ignorance of early nineteenth-century customs would surely mark him as an impostor.

Edward, however, was having none of his feeble protests. “Nothing of the sort, sir,” he assured Darcy. “We shall enjoy a fine dinner of excellent fish and fowl, and then be charmingly entertained by the ladies.”

Turning to Jane and Cassandra, he said, “Shall I send my carriage at seven?”

The ladies both smiled in appreciation of their brother’s thoughtfulness. “Yes, thank you, Edward,” Cassandra replied for both.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Darcy climbed into the open carriage with Edward and it drove away. He looked back through the etched glass backlight to see Jane waving good-bye to him, a little smirk of satisfaction pasted on her lovely face. And he realized that she was actually looking forward to his undoing.

Leaning back against the padded leather seat cushions, Darcy only half-listened to Edward, who was enthusiastically describing the local hunting conditions. Between polite nods, the anxious American covertly surveyed the passing countryside in a futile search for the low stone wall with its distinctive arch of overhanging trees.


“Sister,” Cassandra said excitedly as the carriage rolled out of sight, “I did not know that you had been so much in conversation with our guest.” The elder Miss Austen frowned to express her own disappointment. “I confess he did nothing more interesting than to sleep and groan while I sat with him.”

With a disinterested shrug Jane dismissed Cassandra’s evident desire to begin gossiping about Darcy. “We had only a little brief discussion…about his home in Virginia, after I found him awake a short while ago,” Jane lied, wondering now if she had perhaps only imagined the strange, combative conversation with the American in her bedroom.

“And yet you seem most eager to meet with him again,” Cass said with a sly smile. “Did he tell you if he has a wife at home in Virginia?”

Jane, who usually loved to engage in such delicious but harmless prattle with her beloved sister, was in no mood for such foolishness today. So she pretended to be shocked by Cassandra’s intimation. “Cass, what a thing to say!”

“Well, he is very handsome and, as Edward tells it, very rich, too.”

Jane sniffed irritably. “Yes, and I expect that like most rich American landowners he also keeps slaves and is thus thoroughly wicked,” she replied, silently conjecturing whether it might actually be true. “Mr. Darcy is probably the sort of man who beats his servants and loves his dogs and horses to distraction,” she concluded, turning and going into the house.


“Well, hello there, big fella. How are you doing?”

Darcy grinned with genuine delight as a young groom led Lord Nelson out of Edward’s commodious stable for his inspection.

“He’s in tip-top condition, sir,” said the groom, handing the reins over to Darcy. “Can’t say I ever seen a healthier beast.”

Edward Austen, whose fine team of matched chestnut geldings demonstrated that the man obviously had an excellent eye for horseflesh, was clearly impressed by Lord Nelson. “What a marvelous creature, Darcy!” the older man exclaimed. “Where on earth did you find him?”

“I bought him at auction…a few days ago,” Darcy warily replied. “I plan to, um, take him home…to improve the bloodline in my own breeding stable.”

To Darcy’s dismay, Edward seemed shocked by this innocent revelation. “Home? You mean to say you plan to sail to America with this magnificent horse?” he bellowed. “Good Lord, man, is that not highly risky? I mean, the army regularly moves cavalry and livestock by sea, but confining a superior animal like this for months below decks in a heaving, rat-infested ship’s hold…”

Realizing that he had stepped into another minefield, for he had forgotten that this was still the age of sail, with steamships not due to revolutionize ocean travel for another sixty years or so, Darcy quickly backtracked. “Well, I’m still only thinking about it, actually. We’ll see.”

Slightly mollified by his answer, Edward nodded in the direction of the large Jacobean mansion they had passed on the way to the stables. “Shall we go up to the house now?” he suggested. “I daresay you will want to rest before dinner.”

“Yes, thank you,” Darcy replied. “But I’d like just a little more time with the horse, if that’s all right.”

“Certainly,” Edward agreed, seeming to readily understand a man putting the welfare of his horse before his own comforts. “I shall have your rooms prepared and some fresh clothes laid out for you.”

Edward indicated the young groom who had been standing patiently by the stable door while they talked. “Young Simmons here will show you the way up when you’re ready.”

“Sir!” Simmons touched his peaked hat in acknowledgment of his master’s order.

With a nod to his guest, Edward left the stables and Darcy began to check the horse over carefully.

“Begging your leave, sir,” said the groom, coming over to stand beside Lord Nelson. “I think there’s something you should see.”

Darcy looked at the youngster. “There is?”

Taking hold of Lord Nelson’s halter, Simmons deftly rolled back the horse’s upper lip, exposing the electronic barcode symbols that had been tattooed there by the previous owner. “Look at this, sir!” the groom exclaimed. “What can it be?”

Another minefield, thought Darcy, wondering how many of these situations he was going to be able to talk his way out of before making a fatal slip.

Looking quickly around to see if anyone else was listening, Darcy placed a warning finger to his lips. “Simmons,” he said in a low, confidential tone, “you seem like a good fellow. Can you be trusted to keep your mouth shut if I let you in on a secret?”

Simmons’s plain country features lit up with pleasure. “Oh, yes indeed, sir,” he whispered.

“This is a good-luck charm that was given to me by a very noble Indian chief when I was a boy,” Darcy said, pointing to the barcode identifier, which listed the horse’s international registry number, age, country of origin, lineage and owner.

“No!” Simmons’s eyes were as large as saucers.

“I have that charm secretly tattooed on all of my horses, for luck.”

The look of awe on Simmons’s face gave Darcy an idea and he decided to embroider the ridiculous tale just a bit more. “In fact,” he told the wondering groom, “I believe that Indian charm is the only reason I wasn’t killed in the fall I took going over that wall the other day.”

“That’s amazing, sir,” Simmons breathed. “For I heard tell you took a very bad tumble indeed.”

Darcy was just on the point of congratulating himself when the youngster frowned and said, “But I thought maybe it was there so you’d know the horse was yours if he was ever stole.”

Shot down again for having underestimated his supposedly unsophisticated listener, Darcy couldn’t help laughing out loud. “Simmons, my friend,” he told the observant groom, “something tells me that you’ll go very far in this life.”