Page 49 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

“His conduct was better than his phrasing,” Elizabeth conceded.

Jane smiled again, though with enough restraint not to provoke her. “That is all I ask.”

“It does not erase what he said at the assembly.”

“No.”

“Or what Mr. Wickham has told us.”

Jane’s hands stilled.

Elizabeth knew she had gone too far. Although Jane had never accepted Wickham’s account without reservation, she refused to condemn him.

“I am not asking you to forget either,” Jane said. “Only to judge what happened today for what it was.”

Elizabeth drew a chair close and sat beside the bed.

Darcy had seen danger before pride. He trusted her knowledge of Sarah, asked what she wanted him to do, and obeyed. Then he looked at the broken gate and all but announced that a better-managed estate would have spared her the task.

Both things were true, and that was the difficulty.

At Netherfield, Darcy handed his horse to the groom and entered by the side door.

Dust marked one shoulder, and a strand of wool clung near his coat button. He removed it before entering the breakfast room, but Caroline saw the rest.

“Good heavens, Mr. Darcy. Were you thrown?”

“No.”

Bingley looked up from a letter. “What happened?”

“My horse took alarm in a narrow lane.”

“Your horse?”

“Yes.”

“And the dust?”

“A sheep.”

Bingley laughed. “Whose sheep?”

Darcy crossed to the sideboard. “Mr. Bennet’s.”

“Was Miss Elizabeth there?”

Darcy looked at him.

“I thought so.”

Caroline set down her cup. “Miss Eliza Bennet was driving sheep through the lanes?”

“She was returning them to a field.”

“How rural.”

Darcy poured coffee.