Page 25 of Honor Requires

Miss Darcy brightened immediately.

“Oh, you must not think so! You will find it quite delightful. The ices are the best I have ever tasted, and the pastries… I do not know how one might choose among them without great difficulty.”

“That is a grave concern,” Elizabeth said. “To be confronted with abundance and required to select only one—such a trial might overwhelm the stoutest constitution.”

Mr. Darcy smiled faintly. “Then you must rely upon experience to guide you.”

“And if experience only deepens the difficulty?” Elizabeth returned. “For then, one knows too well what is to be lost by choosing amiss.”

“In that case,” he said, “one must adopt a strategy.”

“Indeed? I should like to hear it.”

“A careful balance of reason and indulgence,” he replied. “One selects with judgment and allows oneself the liberty of enjoyment.”

Elizabeth considered him with a look of playful skepticism. “You make it sound almost virtuous.”

“I believe it may be so.”

“Then I must revise my understanding entirely,” she said. “For I had always supposed that a well-made confection exists solely to banish all dismal thoughts and ought therefore to be enjoyed without restraint.”

Mr. Darcy laughed—a warm, genuine sound that surprised her, though she could not say why.

“I cannot disagree,” he said. “A good pastry may accomplish more for one’s spirits than a great deal of philosophy.”

“Then we are agreed.”

“Entirely.”

Miss Darcy laughed delicately between them. “I am very glad you both think so, for I intend to enjoy mine without the least hesitation.”

“And very properly,” Mrs. Gardiner added. “It is not every day one may indulge in such pleasures with impunity.”

The carriage soon drew up before the tea shop, its position precisely as Elizabeth had imagined from description—situated near the curve of the shore, its wide windows admitting both light and the pleasant view beyond. The sign of Mrs. Peacock’s establishment swung gently above the door, painted in cheerful colors that suggested welcome rather than ostentation.

They alighted and entered together.

The interior was as charming as its exterior promised. Light streamed in through the tall windows, illuminating a series of small tables set neatly across the room. Delicate china was arranged with care, and the air carried the faint sweetness of sugar and baked goods, mingled pleasantly with the freshness of the sea. A glass-fronted counter displayed an array of pastries—tarts filled with fruit, small cakes iced with care, and dishes of ices kept cool beneath polished covers.

Elizabeth paused just inside, taking it in. “It is even more agreeable than I had expected.”

“I am very glad you think so,” Miss Darcy said.

They were shown to a table near the window, where the view extended toward the water, the tide glinting in the sunlight. A young woman came to take their orders, and each made their selection with varying degrees of deliberation.

Miss Darcy chose a strawberry ice and a small almond cake, her expression already bright with anticipation. Mrs. Gardiner selected a lemon syllabub with a light sponge, declaring it a favorite of hers when well prepared. Elizabeth, after a moment’s consideration, chose a raspberry tart with a vanilla ice, reasoning that she ought to begin with something she could compare to other experiences. Mr. Darcy requested a lemon pastry and a dish of orange ice, his choice made with certainty.

When the plates were set before them, Elizabeth could not help but smile. “If these prove half so agreeable as they appear, I shall be entirely satisfied.”

“You will not be disappointed,” Mr. Darcy said.

She tasted the ice first, the cool sweetness dissolving instantly. “Oh—this is excellent.”

Miss Darcy laughed. “I told you so.”

“I shall not doubt you again in matters of confectionery.”

“You may doubt me in others, if you wish,” Miss Darcy said with gentle humor, “but not in this.”