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My imagination is a cruel master when your safety is concerned.

“I assure you, I am an excellent swimmer, Mr Darcy.” Her voice was softer now, trembling with an emotion she could no longer suppress. “And Bates was a perfect gentleman. He did not trip once.”

“I shall never trust him near a body of water.” Mr Darcy moved closer. “I vow it to you, Miss Elizabeth. I shall not let you drown.”

“I hold you to that vow, sir.” Elizabeth tilted her head with a tremulous smile.

Mr Darcy offered his arm. The gesture was formal, correct, but his eyes burnt with a silent question.

Elizabeth slid her gloved hand into the crook of his elbow without hesitation, feeling the hard muscle of his forearm beneath the fine wool. They turned away from the lake, walking along the grassy bank, leaving the tension behind them.

The silence stretched, comfortable and unbroken. Elizabeth’s mind raced. This was not the disdainful man of Hertfordshire, nor the insulting suitor from Hunsford, and she needed to clear the air, and to dismantle the shadows of the parsonage once and for all.

“Mr Darcy.” Elizabeth kept her eyes fixed on the distant treeline, her heart beating fast. “We must speak of Kent.”

She felt his body stiffen beneath her hand, his stride faltering before he forced himself to maintain the pace.

“If it causes you distress, Miss Elizabeth, we need never speak of it again.” His voice came carefully stripped of all emotion.

“It does not cause me distress.” Elizabeth tightened her grip on his arm, drawing a fortifying breath. “I must thank you. I have owed you a debt of gratitude for months, and I have lacked the courage and the opportunity to voice it.”

Mr Darcy stopped walking. He turned to face her, his expression one of bewilderment. “Gratitude? For what possible reason could you owe me gratitude?”

“For trusting me.” Elizabeth gazed into his eyes, refusing to flinch from the painful past. “Your letter at Rosings... The history regarding your sister and Mr Wickham. It was a secret of the utmost gravity, the deepest wound of your family, and you placed it in my care.”

Mr Darcy swallowed hard, his gaze searching her face.

“I kept your trust, sir,” Elizabeth said fiercely. “I have not breathed a single word of it to anyone. Not even to Jane. Your sister’s reputation is safe with me. I wanted you to know that your confidence was not misplaced.”

Mr Darcy closed his eyes, a shuddering breath escaping, as if a crushing weight had been lifted from his shoulders. When he opened his eyes, they shone with raw vulnerability.

“I never doubted you would keep it, Elizabeth.” He spoke her Christian name softly, almost unconsciously. “I knew your character. Even when I was a blind fool, I knew you had a soul of honour.”

Elizabeth felt a hot prickle of tears behind her eyes. She blinked rapidly, forcing them back.

“We were both blind, sir.” She resumed walking, gently pulling him along with her. “I judged you on the word of a scoundrel, and I refused to see past my own wounded pride, and... I apologise. But... We must speak of Jane.”

Mr Darcy’s posture stiffened once more, but he did not pull away. “I owe your sister the deepest apology a man can offer, Miss Elizabeth. My interference was unwarranted.”

“I understand your motives.” Elizabeth kept her voice calm, devoid of the fury that had fuelled her at Hunsford. “Jane is the gentlest creature alive and she does not display her feelings. It is easy to assume her heart is untouched when she guards it so carefully. But she loved him, Mr Darcy. She loved Mr Bingley and her heart has been broken since the autumn.”

“I was a fool.” Mr Darcy stared unseeingly at the ground ahead. “I measured her affection against my own cynical standards. I believed I was saving my friend from an unequal, unrequited match. I had no right to meddle in their happiness.”

“No, you did not.” Elizabeth squeezed his arm gently. “But you acted out of loyalty to your friend. I can respect the motive, even if I despise the outcome.”

Mr Darcy halted, turning to her. This time, he reached with his free hand, covering her gloved fingers where they rested on his arm, his touch warm and firm.

“You must know something, Miss Elizabeth. Before I left London... I sought Bingley out.”

“You spoke with him?”

“I confessed everything.” Mr Darcy refused to hide his shame. “I told him of your sister’s presence in London throughout the winter. I confessed to concealing that knowledge from him. I told him of my own interference, and I admitted my error in judging her feelings.”

Elizabeth gasped. “And what did he say? Is he angry? Does he still care for her?”

“He was furious with me, as he had every right to be.” Mr Darcy offered a shrug. “But his affection for your sister has not wavered by a single fraction. He was planning to depart for Hertfordshire when I left the city.”

Tears spilled over her lower lashes, tracking down her cheeks. Jane. Her sweet, gentle Jane was going to be happy. The long, miserable winter of heartbreak was over.