Page 53 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

“To my steward.”

When Elizabeth glanced at him, he met her eyes, perhaps aware that the answer contradicted Caroline’s expectation.

“You are industrious in your correspondence,” Caroline said. “I hope Mr. Stewart understands how much of your time he consumes.”

“He has yet to complain.”

“Do tell him I envy his privilege.”

Darcy nodded and left through the door beside the book room.

Louisa remained by the window until Jane and Bingley disappeared behind the clipped yews, then returned to the sofa and took up her needlework.

Caroline poured more tea for herself, though her cup was not empty. “You and Mr. Darcy appear to have reached an understanding about the gate.”

Elizabeth looked at her. “An understanding?”

“He spoke of it with unusual concern.”

“He objected to its condition.”

“As any responsible landowner would.” Caroline stirred her tea. “A neglected gate can be dangerous.”

“So it can.”

“And appearances, though less dangerous, may also be troublesome.”

Louisa’s needle paused. Elizabeth suspected she knew what was coming and had no wish to interrupt.

“I have always thought,” Caroline continued, “that country society encourages a freedom which is charming in the right circumstances. People meet without ceremony, walk wherever they please, and speak with a frankness that would surprise those accustomed to more formal circles.”

Elizabeth settled back in her chair. “You make Hertfordshire sound almost savage.”

“Not savage. Unstudied.” Caroline smiled. “That is often its attraction.”

“And its danger?”

“I should not call it danger. Only the possibility of being misunderstood.”

“By whom?”

“By anyone unfamiliar with local habits.”

Elizabeth waited, and Caroline took her silence for encouragement. “You are fortunate in possessing confidence, Miss Eliza. Many young women would not give orders before a gentleman or manage livestock.”

“Mr. Darcy seemed grateful for the orders when his horse required them.”

“He admires competence.”

The compliment sounded too deliberate for Elizabeth to trust it.

Caroline continued. “But unusual circumstances can mislead admiration. A gentleman may admire conduct he would not expect from a lady without considering it suitable in every setting.”

Elizabeth looked toward Louisa, who was bent over her embroidery with increased attention.

“Have I claimed otherwise?” Elizabeth asked.

“Of course not.” Caroline’s tone softened. “I would never suggest you had. We sometimes judge women for impressions they never meant to create.”