Page 78 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

“She also believes he meant no harm.”

“And you?”

Elizabeth looked toward the carriage, where her mother continued speaking to Bingley through the open door. “I think he knew what people would make of it.”

Darcy had expected her to defend Wickham, and her answer forced him to reconsider another judgment.

“He did,” he said.

Her attention returned to him. “You sound certain.”

“I know him.”

“That has not always made your conclusions reliable.”

She did not soften the rebuke because he had defended her or because they stood under Bingley’s roof.

“No,” he said. “It has not.”

Surprise crossed her face.

Lydia ran into the hall with the glove held above her head. “Found it.”

Mrs. Bennet called again.

Elizabeth stepped outside. Sarah moved beside her without command.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy.”

“Miss Elizabeth.”

He watched until the carriage turned beyond the trees.

Caroline remained behind him. “You allowed her to speak to you with astonishing freedom.”

Darcy turned. “She spoke the truth.”

“That has never excused poor manners.”

“No.”

Caroline waited for more. He gave her none.

She looked toward the east lawn. “I intend to look over the summerhouse tomorrow. The workmen will ruin it if no one directs them.”

“Bingley has given you charge of it.”

“I intend to see that it becomes fit for use.”

Darcy thought no more of the matter.

That evening he carried Stewart’s letter to the library and read it again. The report concerned drainage near the west meadow, repairs to two tenant cottages, and a dispute over timber rights. Stewart set out the facts, named the costs, and recommended a course.

Darcy valued such clarity, but tonight the words failed to hold his attention. Elizabeth remained before him, correcting him over the difference between obedience and trust, redirecting her mother, checking Lydia, sparing Jane, and reminding him that familiarity did not make his conclusions reliable.

She was right.

He rose and walked to the window. Rain crossed the glass in thin lines, and darkness hid the grounds beyond the terrace.