Lizzy awoke the next morning with the same thought in her head that had kept her awake half the night. The handsomest woman of my acquaintance. Surely not!
Darcy moved in the best society in London. All those peers’ daughters making their come-outs. How could Lizzy compare?
She hadn’t puzzled it out by the time she and Jane descended for breakfast. Darcy, already there, prepared their plates. They hadn’t gone beyond the vaguest pleasantries when Mrs. Morton appeared.
The woman was garbed in travelling clothes—the dark wool expertly tailored and buttoned up to her neck. “Well, Mr. Darcy, my work here is done. With the holidays upon us, I’m off to visit my daughter. I understand if you must adjust my payment accordingly.”
Lizzy rose. “But...you were to chaperone me through the new year.”
