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Mr Gardiner welcomed him with a broad grin. “Ah, the suitor arrives! You look well this morning, Mr Darcy. Have you eaten?”

“I require no sustenance, sir.” Darcy offered a respectful bow to them both. “I require only a moment of your time.”

Mrs Gardiner set her teacup down, searching his face.

“The lake is calm this morning.” Darcy addressed them both with sincerity. “The fallen branches have been cleared from the landing. I have instructed Bates to prepare the rowboat. I intend to ask Miss Elizabeth to accompany me.”

Mr Gardiner nodded slowly, pushing his plate of eggs away. “A rowboat offers a quite contained environment, Mr Darcy. A woman cannot walk away from a conversation when she is surrounded by water.”

“I have no intention of trapping her, sir,” Darcy protested. “I merely wish for privacy. The library proved... insufficient for my purposes yesterday afternoon.”

Mrs Gardiner’s lips twitched in a suppressed smile. “The library is a public room, Mr Darcy. One must always expect interruptions when one stands so perilously close to the bookshelves. The lake is a much more sensible choice.”

“Do I have your permission to take her?” Darcy held his breath, waiting for the approval.

“You have our permission to take her, and you have our blessing to keep her if she agrees.” Mr Gardiner reached out, clapping an affectionate hand on Darcy’s forearm. “Speak plainly, son. Do not dress the matter up in ribbons. She knows your heart, and I am fairly sure you know hers. Now go and claim it properly.”

Darcy bowed again, with gratitude. He turned and strode out of the parlour, his purpose set.

He found Miss Elizabeth in the sunlit morning room. She wore a walking gown of buttery yellow muslin, a matching bonnet framing her face. She stood near the open French doors, gazing out across the lawns to the distant line of the woods.

She turned as he entered the room and the smile she offered him robbed his lungs of air.

“Good morning, Mr Darcy.” She said, her eyes sparkling.

“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth.” He closed the distance, offering his arm. “I can see you already wear your bonnet. This calls for an outing, since the weather has proven most cooperative and the water is clear. Will you do me the honour of accompanying me to the lake?”

She placed her gloved hand on his sleeve. “I should love nothing more.”

They walked out onto the stone terrace and descended the wide steps to the gravel path. Darcy kept his pace slow, matching her shorter strides. He wanted to savour every second of this walk. He wanted to commit the rustling of her skirts, the sweet scent of lavender soap clinging to her skin, and the expression on her face to his permanent memory.

“My aunt informs me that Mr Gardiner has officially declared war on his apothecary.” Elizabeth’s eyes danced with amusement. “He intends to stand on his injured foot tomorrow, regardless of Mr Donelson’s warnings regarding permanently weakened ligaments.”

“I shall assign two sturdy footmen to guard his chair. I will not have him ruining his recovery simply because he lacks patience.”

“You are a very protective host, sir.”

“I protect what I value.” Darcy met her gaze, allowing the truth of his devotion to shine in his eyes.

Elizabeth averted hers, staring straight ahead at the winding path, though she did not pull her hand away from his.

They reached the edge of the dense woodland bordering the water. The trees opened up, revealing the small boathouse and the landing extending out into the water.

Bates waited at the end of the landing. He held a coil of rope, securing a small, elegantly crafted rowboat to the pilings.

Darcy led Miss Elizabeth onto the planks of the landing. “Good morning, Bates. Is the vessel prepared?”

“Yes, sir!” Bates shouted the words, startling a nearby flock of wood pigeons into the air. “I have the oars! I have wiped the benches! I have inspected the hull for leaks, and I have determined it to be sound!”

Elizabeth pressed her free hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking.

“Thank you, Bates.” Darcy managed to keep his own voice level, though he felt his lips twitching uncontrollably. “You may leave the rope to me.”

Bates dropped the coil of rope onto the planks, with a bow so deep that he nearly pitched himself into the shallows. He scrambled backwards, plastering his back against the wall of the boathouse.

Darcy stepped down into the rowboat, testing his balance on the gentle sway of the water. He turned, offering both hands to Elizabeth.

She took them and he gripped her, supporting her weight as she stepped gracefully from the landing into the boat. He guided her to the bench at the stern, waiting until she was settled before taking his own seat on the thwart in the centre of the vessel.