Page 6 of Honor Requires

The teashop was located on a corner, within sight of the shore. Windows wrapped around two sides of the shop. Darcy could see tables arranged inside, and a counter where lovely pastries were displayed.

They entered and took a small table near the window. At length, a young woman came, taking their order. Brother and sister waited patiently, watching the people around them. While the wait was longer than Darcy was used to, he was not disappointed when he tasted his lemon pastry and vanilla ice.

“This is excellent!” Darcy suppressed a moan of pleasure. “How do you find your raspberry tart?”

“It is everything my friend described. Oh, tell me we can come every day, Brother?” Georgiana turned her pleading gaze to him.

“If that is what you desire, dearest. I shall not complain.” They enjoyed the rest of their treat and then departed, intending to walk on the beach before returning home.

The morning air carried the briny freshness of the sea, stirred by a steady breeze that lifted the edges of cloaks and set the ribbons of bonnets fluttering. The tide had withdrawn only a little while earlier, leaving behind long stretches of damp sand that gleamed in the pale sunlight. Gulls wheeled overhead, their cries sharp and cheerful, while the rhythmic hush of the waves formed a gentle accompaniment to the promenade of visitors who had come down to the shore for exercise and diversion.

Darcy walked beside his sister with calculated ease, his hands clasped loosely behind his back as he listened to Georgiana’s light conversation. Ramsgate had proved agreeable thus far, and the morning’s air seemed to have restored some of the animation that had lately deserted her spirits. She had spoken more in the last quarter hour than she had in an entire afternoon the previous week, and he found the change most gratifying.

The waves beat gently against the sandy shore, and Georgiana stopped to pick up a shell. She turned to show Darcy when a great brindle-colored dog charged them, a stick in his mouth. Darcy stepped in front of his sister, hoping to stop the beast from plowing her over, only to be knocked on his back by the giant animal.

The impact drove the breath from his lungs, and for a time, he lay sprawled upon the sand, staring upward at the pale sky while grains of sand worked their way most unpleasantly into his coat and cravat.

“Bruno! Naughty dog! Shame on you.” A young lady rushed to his side, wrapping her hands around the dog’s collar and pulling. “I am so sorry, sir! Bruno is still a puppy—he is not fully trained. I am afraid I removed his lead so we could play fetch, but rather than return to me with his stick, he came after you.”

Darcy pushed himself upright, brushing sand from his sleeve while the enormous animal proceeded to wag his tail with shameless enthusiasm. The dog appeared quite pleased with the encounter, though Darcy could not claim the same satisfaction.

Darcy stood, brushing sand off his coat and breeches. He looked up intending to chastise the young lady, only to be rendered silent.

The lady before him was stunning. She was petite, with a light and pleasing figure. Her bonnet had fallen back, revealing dark, curly hair. There were glints of red in the locks that shone as she turned her head. Her gaze was filled with remorse, and Darcy thought he had never seen such fine eyes in his life. They were the color of hot chocolate and sparkling with intelligence—he could very well drown in their depths.

Her breath came quickly from her dash across the sand, and a faint flush colored her cheeks as she struggled to restrain the still-wiggling animal. The effort had drawn a few loose curls about her temples, giving her a disheveled appearance that was, paradoxically, most becoming.

Rather than scold, he bowed. “Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy at your service. This is my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy.”

The lady dropped a curtsey. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, sir. And this brute is Bruno.” She gestured to the dog, who finally lay in the sand chewing happily on his stick.

As if to demonstrate his utter innocence, Bruno rolled onto his side and thumped his tail against the sand with enthusiastic vigor.

“A Great Dane?” Georgiana stepped forward. “I have never seen one in person. You say he is a puppy? How big will he become?”

Her voice held both curiosity and delight, and she regarded the animal with fascination rather than fear.

“Believe it or not, he was the runt of his litter, though he has outgrown all his brothers and sisters. Bruno will be the size of a small pony someday.” Miss Bennet grinned. “He was a gift from my uncle. My mother was scandalized at first but was convinced such a large animal would keep any ‘thieves and miscreants’ from invading my father’s house.”

Georgiana giggled, and Darcy, too chuckled at the amusing anecdote. “He seems to be rather ferocious…until he is not.”

Miss Bennet agreed. “An accurate assessment, Miss Darcy.”

At that moment Bruno lifted his head and trotted several paces away, only to return again with the same stick, dropping it proudly at Miss Bennet’s feet.

“Oh! There are my aunt and uncle.”

“Will you not introduce us?” The words burst from Darcy’s lips before he had even considered them. All he knew was that he wished to know more of Miss Bennet, and if an introduction to her relations accomplished that, then so be it.

Miss Bennet regarded him with mild surprise, though not displeasure. “If you like.”

Miss Bennet raised a hand and waved her relations over. A handsomely dressed couple approached. The lady looked to be only a few years older than Darcy. Her husband seemed older—perhaps nearing his fortieth year.

They walked with the easy composure of those accustomed to society, and the gentleman’s expression carried a warmth that suggested good humor rather than formality.

“Aunt, Uncle, Mr. and Miss Darcy have requested an introduction. Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, my relations, Mr. Edward Gardiner and his wife, Mrs. Madeline Gardiner.”

They exchanged greetings and proposed moving to the shade nearby. Miss Bennet tugged on her unruly beast, and together they meandered over to a nearby bench positioned beneath a large tree.