Page 129 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

“My mother believes every journey demands food, blankets, and a report of the roads. Lady Catherine appears to have survived without our assistance.”

Georgiana glanced toward her aunt. “She prepares for most difficulties before they occur.”

“And several that never do.”

A smile appeared, which Georgiana made no attempt to hide. Darcy, caught in Lady Catherine’s questions about Bingley’s lease, saw the change and lost the thread of the inquiry. Elizabeth noticed that as well, though she gave no sign beyond turning her attention back to Georgiana.

The outer door opened, and a moment later Hill came to the drawing-room door. “Miss Elizabeth, Sarah has come from the north pasture. Tom says she is waiting in the yard.”

“I shall see to her.” Elizabeth looked at Georgiana. “Would you care to come? You saw her at Netherfield, but she was busy inspecting your carriage.”

“I would.”

Lady Catherine broke off her question. “Georgiana has no need to leave the room for a dog.”

“I should like to see her,” Georgiana said.

“The yard is no place for you.”

“It is dry, and I have walking shoes.”

Darcy met his aunt’s gaze. “Georgiana may decide whether she wishes to cross a hall and step into a yard.”

Jane rose. “I will go with them.”

Lady Catherine could object to a dog, a yard, and Elizabeth, but not to three young women walking ten paces from an open door under the eyes of half the household. She settled for a look that promised later correction.

Sarah stood near the mounting block with mud upon her paws and a burr caught in the hair beneath one ear. She had seen Georgiana through the open doorway and watched the three women approach without moving. When Elizabeth stopped, Sarah’s attention shifted to her face.

“Come,” Elizabeth said.

Sarah crossed the yard, then halted and waited while Elizabeth removed the burr. Only after Elizabeth touched her shoulder did she turn toward Georgiana.

“She knew I was here,” Georgiana said.

“Before we reached the door. She hears carriages, voices, and footsteps long before we notice them.”

Sarah approached Georgiana and raised her head to accept the offered hand. Her interest held no excitement, and after a moment she looked back to Elizabeth.

“My brother wrote that she commands sheep better than many people command a drawing room.”

Elizabeth looked toward Darcy, who had followed them outside with Bingley. “Did he?”

Georgiana’s color rose. “I should not have repeated it.”

“I am less offended than the drawing rooms might be.” Elizabeth rubbed the mud from Sarah’s foreleg with a cloth a groom brought from the stable. “Mr. Darcy once believed her work proved something about my station. Sarah has never forgiven him for being wrong.”

Darcy stopped beside his sister. “Sarah has shown no sign that she remembers the offense.”

“She has the dignity to conceal it.”

Georgiana looked at them. Darcy’s letters had described Elizabeth’s wit, but they had not shown how he received it. He did not retreat behind silence or answer with the cold correction Georgiana had seen him give others. He listened, considered, and allowed the amusement in his face to remain.

A small group of sheep moved beyond the kitchen garden where a gap in the hedge opened toward the north field. Sarah turned at once, but she did not leave Elizabeth’s side.

“She wants to go,” Georgiana said.

“Yes, but she is waiting to learn whether I want the same thing.” Elizabeth raised two fingers, then pointed toward the opening. Sarah ran across the yard and through the gap without a bark.