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A pensive Elizabeth Bennet departed from the inn the following morning to walk through Lambton, though in truth her thoughts were only half on what she saw before her.

Lambton was a charming town, indeed, its cobbled streets, quaint buildings, bits of greenery, and bustling citizenry all catching Elizabeth’s attention and reaching her heart in a way she did not think Meryton ever had.

On top of the town’s highest hill stood a beautiful church, the ornate windows a riot of colors striking a contrast with its white-washed walls gleaming in the sun.

Next to it was a lovely green space with several large trees casting their shadows on the ground, while all else was bathed in the glorious light of the sun.

The more she saw of Lambton, the more she understood her aunt’s love for the place, for Elizabeth could well imagine staying here for the rest of her life.

Though everything she saw appealed to her and while Elizabeth enjoyed the sights, her thoughts kept returning to the previous evening and the two gentlemen who had invaded her peace of mind.

Of the other members of the party, she thought little, for she did not think they deserved her consideration, though Georgiana was a pleasant girl and well worth knowing.

Elizabeth hoped to maintain their friendship, while she also hoped that after they departed, she would not need to endure the objectionable company of the Bingley sisters.

Foremost in her thoughts was, of course, the conversation she had shared with Mr. Bingley the previous evening.

As a gentle young woman of breeding and possessing a tender heart, Elizabeth could do nothing but regret the necessity of destroying all Mr. Bingley’s hopes pertaining to Jane.

It was clear he felt deeply for her, and if the blame for his failure to return was his own, there were extenuating circumstances in the business.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, and even Mr. Darcy, had played a part, and were therefore not blameless in the affair.

It would, Elizabeth hoped, work to Mr. Bingley’s benefit, though the lesson must be difficult to bear.

Though Elizabeth esteemed him as an excellent man, she thought his reflections on the event would lead to acquiring some measure of purpose, for she thought he needed it.

Given his behavior last night, defending her and taking his sister to task for her mean-spirited attacks, Elizabeth thought he had already changed to a certain extent.

She hoped it would continue, and he would find happiness, though Jane was now out of his reach.

As for the second gentleman, Elizabeth was not quite certain she understood him.

The Mr. Darcy that presented himself to her now was not the man she had known in Hertfordshire, and though the notion was yet new, Elizabeth found she liked him more than she expected.

There was a measure of softness in his demeanor that had not existed then, a civility and ease of manner that had taken her aback.

Again, Elizabeth considered the possibility of the location being the reason for this change, though she suspected that was not all.

The question that remained unanswered was what part Mr. Darcy had played in the matter of Mr. Bingley.

Elizabeth did not suppose that he was the primary force behind preventing Mr. Bingley’s return, for she ascribed that role to Miss Bingley.

Even so, Mr. Darcy had played some part in it, and while Elizabeth thought she knew his motivation, now she could not be certain.

The attention he paid to her suggested something else, though she could not say what that was.

As she was reflecting on the gentleman, he appeared before her, striding up one of Lambton’s narrow streets, his focus on her.

The man’s concentration was of such intensity that Elizabeth held back a shudder, wondering at the sensations his regard engendered in her breast. A moment later, he was with her, and she had no time to consider his growing power over her any further.

“Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, stopping before her and bowing as was proper. “Good morning. I hope you are well?”

“Very well,” replied Elizabeth in a like fashion. “As my aunt and uncle had no plans for this morning, I was eager to explore the town.”

“That is how I knew where to find you,” said Mr. Darcy. “As I am familiar with Lambton, I considered several locations you might find appealing.”

“It is a lovely place, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, her eyes roving over what lay before her. “I understand why my aunt has always praised it to the skies.”

The gentleman hesitated, but soon he said: “Even when I knew you in Hertfordshire, I suspected you would find Lambton agreeable.”

Elizabeth regarded him, uncertainty warring with interest. “I had not thought you paid that much attention to me, Mr. Darcy.”

“I was far more aware of you than you know.”

As surprising as his statement was, Mr. Darcy did not allow her to reflect on it, for he motioned to the street and offered to accompany her.

In this, he proved an excellent guide, for he was even better acquainted with Lambton’s secrets than Mrs. Gardiner, his information being both newer and enduring, unlike her aunt, who had left the town many years before.

For a time, they walked and conversed, Mr. Darcy regaling her with tales of his antics as a boy or accounts of the town’s history, people, and other interesting details.

All the time, however, Elizabeth knew their thoughts and words would turn toward the events of the previous evening, and those of a more distant nature.

When the moment came, Mr. Darcy’s expressed sentiments were not what Elizabeth expected.

“Please allow me to apologize for last night, Miss Bennet.” The gentleman stopped and turned toward her, showing his utter sincerity. “You were a guest in my house and did not deserve the assault to which another guest subjected you.”

“Do not consider it for another moment, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth hastened to say. “You and Georgiana were everything welcoming and agreeable; you cannot control what others say and do.

“Besides,” said Elizabeth, showing him a saucy grin, “you cannot suppose that I am incapable of defending myself against the likes of Miss Bingley.”

The gentleman caught the humor in her statement. “No, Miss Bennet, I cannot imagine she gave you a moment’s concern.”

“She did not. To own the truth, Miss Bingley’s attacks are predictable and rather prosaic—she is so blinded by self-interest that she is incapable of understanding how repugnant her behavior is.”

Mr. Darcy nodded, though he became a little more sober.

“I hope you understand, Miss Bennet, that I have never encouraged her. From almost the first moment of our acquaintance, I have understood her ambition. In all her scheming, she pays no attention to temper or compatibility, for her interest is predicated only on her perception of what I can do for her in society.”

“That much is evident, Mr. Darcy. Even when I stayed those few days at Netherfield, I never suspected you of having any interest in her.”

Mr. Darcy nodded and changed the subject. “If I might beg your pardon, I wonder if you will say something of your sister’s situation.” He paused as if considering what to say. “To own the truth, I had always thought she was not as interested in Bingley as he was in her.”

The admission was akin to what Elizabeth had supposed, but differed in essentials. “You thought her indifferent to Mr. Bingley?”

“Not indifferent,” said Mr. Darcy. “It was my opinion that her heart was not easily touched, or perhaps to be more precise, that Bingley had not touched her heart.”

The first assertion did not suit Elizabeth’s feelings, but she understood better when he explained. “As Mr. Bingley did not return to Hertfordshire, might I suppose you spoke to him on this subject?”

That Mr. Darcy did not wish to answer was no less than clear, but the gentleman did not hesitate beyond an instant. “You are correct, I did offer my opinion on the subject, but the primary argument was not mine but his sisters’.”

“To them, I suppose that Jane, being the daughter of a gentleman, was not high enough for their dynastic ambitions.” Though disgusted by Miss Bingley all over again, Elizabeth pushed the feeling away.

“That is an interesting bit of self-blindness, considering Miss Bingley is naught but the daughter of a tradesman—her sister has risen to become the wife of a gentleman, but that does not give her a reason for haughtiness.”

“Yes, it is an interesting bit of folly in her character,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “I shall not say you are incorrect, Miss Bennet, though a part of their argument centered on your family and the... behavior of certain members.”

Elizabeth sighed, the defiance bleeding out of her.

“With that, I suppose I cannot fault them, though I will note that my sisters are yet young and still have time to improve through maturity. As for my mother, while I sometimes despair over her behavior, she loves her children and is concerned for our futures, which sometimes leads her to act in ways that do not bring her credit. That is no longer an issue, so I think you will find my mother easier to endure should you be in her company again.”

Mr. Darcy nodded, but he did not speak. He appeared curious about Elizabeth’s meaning, but his initial question remained unanswered, and that must be the greater curiosity.

“In response to your comment, Mr. Darcy, I shall say that you are incorrect about the difficulty in touching Jane’s heart—her husband proved that. Your observations about Jane and Mr. Bingley, however, proved correct.”

The gentleman regarded her. “How so?”