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“Bingley informed me that your sister was fatigued.”

“She is. She has also spent several days wishing to arrive among friends.” Elizabeth accepted his assistance and stepped onto the gravel. His hand was warm and steady beneath her glove. It would have been agreeable to find fault with his manners in every particular; unfortunately, there was nothing to criticize in this one.

“Lizzy,” Jane said, very gently, “I should like both the bed and the company. If I may rest for an hour, Mr. Darcy, I would be pleased to join you for tea afterward. And perhaps we might have an early supper?”

“Certainly.” Mr. Darcy addressed the housekeeper waiting above them. “Mrs. Reynolds, will that give Cook sufficient time?”

“Quite sufficient, sir,” Mrs. Reynolds replied.

Caroline came forward with an expression of injured appreciation, as though the insult to their host had been offered principally to herself.

“Your thoughtfulness is exactly what I told Jane to expect, Mr. Darcy. We must all be guided by what is best for her.”

“I am attempting to tell you,” Jane said.

Charles’s laugh escaped before he could disguise it as a cough. Elizabeth caught her sister’s eye, and for a moment the exhaustion of the journey gave way to the comfortable understanding of home.

Mr. Darcy bowed to Jane. “Then tea after your rest, madam.”

Inside, the hall was cool beneath their feet. Elizabeth became conscious of dust upon her traveling gown and was trying to brush a pale streak from the skirt when a large gray head appeared beside her hand.

She looked down. The dog looked up. Having apparently established that neither posed a danger, he pushed his nose into her palm.

“Oh, you are very welcome,” she murmured, rubbing behind one ragged ear.

“Houndsmere.” Mr. Darcy spoke with the firmness of a man whose instructions had lately been questioned enough.

The dog leaned harder against Elizabeth.

“He is generally more obedient,” his master said.

Mrs. Reynolds glanced at the ceiling, and Elizabeth was obliged to look away from her before laughing.

“What a creature!” Charles bent to stroke the rough head. “He has grown since I was here.”

“He has principally grown idle,” Mr. Darcy replied.

“And his name is Houndsmere?” Elizabeth asked.

“Lord Houndsmere,” Darcy said. “My sister named him.”

The alteration in his voice was slight, but Elizabeth heard it. Charles had told them of Miss Darcy’s death, and Caroline had spent part of the journey discussing the proper duration of retirement after such a loss. Elizabeth had disliked the discussion then and liked it less now, with the gentleman standing before her and his sister’s dog pressing against her knee.

“However do you call him?” Caroline asked. “Such a name must be a great inconvenience.”

“Sir,” Elizabeth said, bending to the dog again. “It is perfectly simple. Is it not, Sir?”

His tail struck Charles’s leg with sufficient force to move him aside.

“He approves,” Jane observed.

“Of the shortening or the promotion?” asked Charles.

“Of being addressed properly, I imagine.” Elizabeth looked up at Mr. Darcy. There was the beginning of a smile about his mouth, and she was surprised by how much it altered his face.

“You may have settled a difficulty of several years, Miss Bennet.”

Before she could answer, the dog left her to investigate a footman carrying a basket from the carriage. Mr. Darcy caught him by the collar and discovered that his improved title had done nothing for his submission to authority.