“I should be sorry,” he said, more quietly, “if you thought so.”
She looked at him steadily. “It would be difficult to think otherwise, however generously you intend it.”
A slight pause followed. His expression altered – less public now, and more thoughtful. “If I have overstepped, I apologise.” He was not accustomed to being refused and felt it more than he chose to show. “Allow me to amend my proposal.”
Elizabeth waited.
“If I were to choose something for you,” he said more quietly, “would you object to that?”
Elizabeth felt the colour rise in her cheeks. “That is a different matter.”
“Why so?”
“Because,” she said, with an effort at composure, “I must then consider whether I approve your taste.”
A faint smile touched his expression. “And if you did?”
She met his gaze though not without warmth. “I might be persuaded.”
Darcy turned toward the display. “At this time of year,” he said, “I cannot offer flowers.”
Elizabeth said nothing.
“But I may perhaps find something that will serve instead.”
He selected, after a moment’s consideration, a pair of fine kid gloves – elegant, understated.
Elizabeth started slightly before she could command her expression. “They are very well chosen.”
“I am glad you think so.”
***
The business of the shop was soon concluded.
Lydia, whose objections had not survived the offer made to her, quitted the place in high satisfaction; Kitty followed, no less pleased with her own acquisition. Jane expressed her thanks with gentle propriety.
Elizabeth, though more reserved, did not return the gloves.
Darcy settled the account without display and joined them at the door.
The afternoon air was cooler than before, and the street somewhat more animated. Kitty was seated on Bramble, and Lydia continued her conversation with unabated liveliness.
Darcy, with quiet readiness, offered his arm. Elizabeth accepted it.
They moved on together, a little behind the others. For a short distance, neither spoke.
Elizabeth was conscious – though she would not have owned it – of the presence of the gloves in her hand. Darcy, equally silent, was not unaware of it.
Across the street, a gentleman had paused. He had been on the point of entering another shop but now remained where he stood.
His figure was easy, his appearance open and agreeable; yet there was something in his expression, as his gaze fixed upon the party before him, that was less pleasing than it first appeared.
He watched.
His attention settled not on the group, but on two figures walking somewhat apart.
A faint, knowing look crossed his face.
