Page 111 of What Change Entails

It was not much.

It was also more than she would once have allowed him.

Mr. Darcy stood silent for a moment. “Then I must thank Mr. Alden for preserving my reputation as a guide.”

“I should not give him all the credit.”

The words escaped before she had polished them into safety.

He went still for a moment. “No?”

“No.”

Elizabeth’s cheeks heated at her own boldness, but she kept her ground. Barely.

Mr. Alden saved them both by dropping a stack of pamphlets behind the counter.

“Blast,” the bookseller muttered, then raised his head. “Pardon, miss.”

Elizabeth smiled wryly, partly from amusement and partly from gratitude for interruption. “No apology required. I have several younger sisters. Pamphlets are mild by comparison.”

Darcy took the books from her after she selected a third small volume of poems for Jane and carried them to the counter. Elizabeth protested that she could manage. He answered that he did not doubt it, which was no answer at all and somehow still made her blush.

When they emerged from the shop a quarter hour later, the village had grown busier. A cart rattled past carrying sacks of flour. Two women stood outside the draper’s window arguing over ribbon widths. Somewhere up the street Lydia’s voice rose in unmistakable triumph.

“Should we be alarmed?” Elizabeth asked.

“Almost certainly.”

“Miss Darcy is with her?”

“And Mrs. Gardiner.”

Elizabeth smiled pertly. “It is very fortunate my aunt appeared when she did. There is no telling what mischief Lydia might get up to unattended.”

“I have grown rather fond of Miss Lydia.”

Elizabeth stopped walking and stared at him.

“You have?”

“Yes.”

“Of Lydia?”

“Yes.”

“My sister Lydia?”

“I believe there is but one.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “She has grown upon you in the manner of a mushroom upon a fallen tree.”

“Am I the fallen tree?”

She swatted his arm lightly with the rolled paper around her purchases before propriety could stop her. “You know perfectly well what I meant.”

He fiddled with his sleeve, then back at her, openly amused. “Miss Lydia,” he said as they resumed walking, “possesses more loyalty than judgment. But loyalty is not a small thing.”