Page 89 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

The groom reached for the bridle, but Wickham waved him back and tightened the rein again. The horse stopped, though its ears remained pinned.

Sarah came out of the house and placed herself between Elizabeth and the mounting block, her attention fixed on him.

He glanced down. “She disapproves of my horsemanship as well.”

“The shutter frightened him,” Elizabeth said.

“He will survive the discovery.” Wickham loosened the rein and stroked the horse’s neck. “There. We are friends again.”

His tone invited laughter, and Lydia supplied it. Kitty smiled because he did.

Elizabeth did not mistake impatience for cruelty. Horses required correction, and a startled animal could injure a rider or groom. Yet the groom was within reach, and Wickham refused help before he knew whether the horse would settle. Sarah seemed less concerned with the horse than with the man holding its bridle.

When Wickham rose to leave, Denny paused to scratch behind Sarah’s ears, and she accepted the touch. Wickham tried again with the back of his hand, but Sarah looked at him and moved closer to Elizabeth.

Denny laughed. “She has judged you, Wickham.”

“Then I must improve my character.”

His answer drew laughter, but Sarah’s refusal stayed with Elizabeth after the men had gone.

Kitty carried her returned book upstairs and Lydia followed, singing Wickham’s name until Mrs. Bennet ordered her to stop. Jane sat beside Elizabeth and watched Sarah settle at their feet.

“She does not like him,” Jane said.

“Sarah does not know him.”

“She liked Mr. Denny.”

“Mr. Denny smelled of horses and gave her room to approach.”

Jane touched the dog’s head. “You have an explanation.”

“I have several, though none of them prove anything.”

Sarah had sense, but she was still an animal. She might distrust Wickham’s scent, his movement, or the way he reached for her after she had refused him. Elizabeth would not turn instinct into accusation because it belonged to a creature she trusted.

Yet Wickham had not read Sarah well. A man so practiced at judging people should have understood a warning when he saw one.

That thought was no more proof than the dog’s dislike.

Elizabeth looked toward the stairs. Kitty had hidden the book, defended his attention, and heard seriousness in gestures that might mean nothing. Wickham encouraged her without making a promise and only protected her when doing so cost him nothing.

Ordinary officer nonsense, Elizabeth told herself, though the words no longer carried the same force they had that morning.

Chapter 22

ELIZABETH SAW NOTHING of Wickham the following morning. Kitty came down late, complained of a headache, and remained close to Lydia through breakfast. She spoke little to Elizabeth and less to Jane. When Mrs. Bennet proposed calling on Mrs. Phillips, Kitty pleaded fatigue and Lydia accused her of wishing to stay at home in case a certain officer called. Kitty colored and left the table before her mother could ask whom Lydia meant.

Mrs. Bennet looked after her. “What is the matter with the girl?”

“Nothing that Lydia can improve by teasing her,” Elizabeth said.

Lydia laughed. “I never said Mr. Wickham would call. Kitty decided for herself that his attention meant something.”

Bennet entered as she spoke and took his place at the table. “Who is Mr. Wickham, and what has he done to earn such confidence?”

“He is one of Colonel Forster’s officers,” Elizabeth said. “He has been paying Kitty a good deal of attention, and I think she may expect more than he has offered.”