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He had no answer which would not sound like a judgment upon her choice. She had given him something more personal than an entertaining account of his aunt’s clergyman, and he did not wish to repay it with approval bestowed as though she had sought it.

“I am glad your father stood beside you,” he said.

Elizabeth looked at him, and for a moment her expression was entirely unguarded.

“So am I.”

Sir chose that moment to return with a branch in his mouth.

It was considerably wider than the path. He advanced a few steps, struck one end against a tree, backed away, and attempted the same passage with greater determination.

Elizabeth began to laugh.

“Here is another gentleman who cannot be persuaded that his first plan was mistaken.”

Darcy took the branch near the middle. Sir held tighter.

“You must release it.”

The dog pulled backward.

“He understands you perfectly,” Elizabeth said. “He merely thinks persistence will improve your opinion.”

She reached for the other end of the branch as Darcy shifted his grip. Their hands touched. She withdrew hers at once.

The brief contact was enough to bring back the dream with unwelcome force: her hand upon his coat, the easy willingness which had existed only while he slept. He looked away and coaxed the branch free. Sir immediately began searching for it after Darcy placed it beyond his reach.

Elizabeth bent to rub the dog’s ears. When she straightened, the open expression with which she had spoken of her father was gone.

Darcy wondered whether she regretted telling him so much. If she believed he had concealed his sister’s disgrace while allowing her to speak freely of her own family, she had reason to feel unequally treated. Yet he could not purchase her confidence with Georgiana’s story. The secret did not become less his sister’s because he longed to be understood.

They returned by the stream. Elizabeth asked whether the water rose much in winter, and he answered without attempting to recover the intimacy of their earlier conversation. Sally rejoined them near the lawn, the empty basket still upon her arm.

At the house, Elizabeth thanked him for the walk.

“I was glad you chose the longer way,” she added.

“So was I.”

She smiled before going upstairs. He remained in the hall until Sir pressed against his leg, demanding the attention which neither lady had stayed to provide.

Darcy looked down at him.

“You have had bread, cake promised on your behalf, and two walks in two days. I should be obliged if you remembered that you have very little to complain of.”

Sir leaned harder. Darcy rested a hand upon the dog’s head and found that, for the moment, he had very little wish to complain.

Chapter Fourteen

THERE WERE TO be ten people at Jane’s supper, and Caroline had ordered enough flowers to receive thirty.

Elizabeth surveyed the baskets upon the dining room floor. There were late roses, asters, and long sprays of greenery, all brought in that morning at Caroline’s request. The gardener had been generous. Elizabeth doubted that the tables of Longbourn had ever required so much assistance from the shrubbery.

“Only two low arrangements here,” Jane said, laying her hand upon the table. “I should like to see the people opposite me.”

“The larger pieces were intended for the sideboard,” Caroline replied.

“Then we are all agreed,” said Jane, before Elizabeth could observe that the sideboard must be very grateful.