Page 47 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

“Mr. Darcy helped.”

The folded linen shifted in Hill’s arms.

“Mr. Darcy?”

“He happened to be riding through the lane.”

“And got down?”

“Yes.”

Hill’s expression became unreadable in the manner of a servant who intended to repeat every detail while claiming no interest in any of them.

“He held the gate,” Elizabeth added, hoping the plainness of the fact might prevent embroidery.

Hill nodded. “I see.”

“You do not.”

“No, miss.”

Elizabeth went upstairs before the encounter could reach the kitchen in a form she no longer recognized.

Jane was in her room, a stocking in her lap. She raised her eyes when Elizabeth walked in.

“You have been gone longer than I expected.”

“The sheep reached the lane.”

“Again?”

“Thomas never fitted the latch.”

Jane set aside the stocking. “Were they difficult?”

“No. Sarah brought them back.”

Elizabeth removed her bonnet and placed it on the bed. “Mr. Darcy assisted.”

Jane’s surprise was quieter than Hill’s. “That was kind.”

“It was useful.”

“Useful things may also be kind.”

“He could not ride through six sheep.”

“He might have waited.”

Elizabeth unfastened her gloves. One finger had caught on the rope, leaving a rough line across the leather.

“He dismounted before his horse injured itself. Afterward, he helped return the flock and held the gate while I tied it.”

Jane smiled.

“Do not.”

“I have said nothing.”