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Miss Bennet looked up, and the smile she had given the dog nearly included him. Then she drew back her skirt and entered the carriage.

“Perhaps Jane will have better success.”

Darcy surrendered the collar to a waiting footman. He had no reasonable ground for resenting an answer that agreed with him. He resented it nonetheless.

Caroline came down with a little basket and an inquiry about the weather. She was pleased to hear that the day promised to remain fine, pleased with the choice of inn, and certain that Highwood Lodge would answer very well if Charles could be made to give proper attention to its advantages.

“The south drawing room alone ought to recommend it,” she said. “Charles has read me the particulars. Four windows, all overlooking the lawn.”

“There are several matters to examine besides the windows,” Darcy replied.

“Of course. I depend upon you for those.”

Her confidence was agreeable. He was aware of the comparison because he had spent the last two days receiving the opposite treatment from the other lady in the carriage.

Bingley at last appeared, assured them that Jane wanted nothing, and climbed in opposite his sisters. Sally sat beside Bingley. Darcy mounted, gave the coachman the direction, and they set off.

The house lay beyond the western hills. A rider could reach it by a shorter path, but the carriage road wound south before turning back toward it, making a journey of fifteen miles. Darcy had thought the situation promising when he examined the map. Charles might ride over often, and the two households would be near enough to visit without the formal arrangements required by a stay in another county.

For the first hour, he thought chiefly of the roads and the condition of the horse beneath him. It was a relief to be out upon ordinary business with Bingley. Since the spring, too many departures from Pemberley had been hurried journeys he had no wish to remember.

At a turn where the carriage slowed, he glanced through the window and saw Miss Bennet laughing at something Charles had said. Her head was bent, one hand lifted to keep her bonnet from striking the side. She had not lost her spirits, then. She had merely chosen to withhold them from him.

He looked back to the road.

The last time he had seen her laugh freely in his company, she had been holding Anna.

That recollection was more difficult to dismiss. Martha had dressed the child in one of the gowns the following morning. The three little flowers lay near the hem, absurdly small beside all that Darcy had commissioned for his niece and more troublesome to think of than any account. The sisters had given something their mother had kept for them. He had tried to tell Elizabeth that he understood the kindness, and she had answered as though it were nothing.

Had she known whose child she was holding? She had been gentle with Anna. He returned to that recollection with a relief he distrusted; tenderness toward a baby need not imply compassion for its mother.

Highwood Lodge appeared at the end of an avenue a little before two. The house was smaller than Pemberley, but handsome, with a broad central door and a terrace that overlooked a shallow valley. The lawn had been kept in order, and the stables visible beyond the trees appeared sound.

Bingley leaned from the carriage window before they had stopped.

“Jane would like this.”

Darcy dismounted. “Let us see the inside before we tell her so.”

Mr. Pritchard, the agent, came down the steps carrying a ring of keys. He had waited for them at the house and was anxious to show that his description had understated its merits. A groom led Darcy’s horse away while Pritchard conducted the party into a hall bright enough to make Caroline’s approval immediate.

The drawing room justified its place in the particulars. Four tall windows looked across the lawn, and there was space for a pianoforte without obliging every person who wished to cross the room to pass behind its player. Caroline considered where her brother might put the instrument.

“Jane must have one of her own,” Bingley said.

“Certainly. There is no reason to retain anything belonging to the present family if it does not suit.”

Miss Bennet walked to the window. Darcy followed far enough to inspect the lower frame, where the paint had lifted from the wood.

“The view pleases you?” he asked.

“Very much.”

A moment passed in which he could find no further question that did not sound as though he wished her to praise the house for his benefit.

Then she said, “Jane asked me to discover whether she could reach the garden easily.”

“There is a door from the room beyond.”