Page 26 of Honor Requires

Elizabeth turned toward her. “Have you tried sea bathing, Miss Darcy?”

Miss Darcy shook her head. “Not yet, though I have very much wished to do so.”

“Then you must join me,” Elizabeth said. “I mean to attempt it soon, and I should be most glad of your company.”

Miss Darcy’s eyes lit at once. “Oh! I should like that exceedingly.” She turned quickly to her brother. “May I, Brother?”

Mr. Darcy regarded her, then inclined his head. “You may.”

Miss Darcy clasped her hands in delight. “Thank you!”

Elizabeth smiled at her enthusiasm.

“You shall find it both bracing and invigorating, I think.”

“I shall rely upon your experience to guide me,” Miss Darcy said.

Mr. Darcy looked toward Elizabeth then, his expression thoughtful.

“I have no doubt Miss Bennet is equal to the task,” he said. “She appears well suited to any undertaking she chooses.”

Elizabeth felt a warmth rise to her cheeks, though she kept her tone light.

“You give me far too much credit, sir.”

“I think not.”

There was something in the steadiness of his gaze that made her glance away.

The remainder of their time in the shop passed with ease. Conversation flowed naturally, the pleasures of the table matched by the pleasures of company. Elizabeth found herself increasingly at her ease, her earlier awareness melting into something more comfortable, though no less engaging.

When at last they rose to depart, the brightness of the day had deepened, the sea calling them outward once more.

They walked along the shore, the sand firm beneath their feet, the gentle rhythm of the waves accompanying their progress. Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Darcy soon moved a little ahead, their conversation animated, leaving Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy walking side by side.

There was a peace between them—not uncomfortable, but full of possibility.

Darcy paused suddenly near a cluster of rocks where the tide had receded, leaving small pools of water glinting in the light.

“One moment, if you will.”

Elizabeth watched as he stepped carefully among the stones, reaching down to retrieve something lodged between them.

When he returned, he held out a shell.

It was a small conch, its surface delicately ridged, the colors subdued and varied—cream and pale rose with faint lines of amber tracing its form. It caught the light in a way that revealed its subtle beauty.

“I thought you might like this.”

Elizabeth accepted it, her fingers brushing his briefly. “It is lovely.” She turned it in her hand, admiring the shape. “I shall treasure it.”

A small smile touched his expression. “I am glad of it.”

“I think,” she added thoughtfully, “I shall rub it with a little oil when I return. It will bring out the color more clearly.”

“I have no doubt it will.”

She glanced at him. “You are very attentive, Mr. Darcy.”