“Of course, you are correct, Mrs. Reynolds. Mr. Darcy would never ignore a possible danger to anyone at Pemberley.”

Mrs. Reynolds chimed in, “Mr. Darcy is the best landlord and the best master that ever lived.There is not one of his tenants or servants but what will give him a good name. If I were to go through the world, I could not meet with a better.”

The very man of whom they spoke strolled through the doorway. “There you are, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth offered up a bright smile: Her husband’s masculine appearance always made her heart catch in her throat. Broad shoulders—slim waist—muscular chest and back—well defined legs and buttocks—no extra padding found on the man. And Elizabeth relished the idea that he chose her. “I apologize, Fitzwilliam; I was unaware that you sought me out.”

Darcy’s steel gray eyes caught hers. “I thought we might spend some time in the conservatory; the temperature turns bitter.We are in for a spell of bad weather.”

“Really?” Elizabeth stood to join him.“My first winter in Derbyshire was quite mild. Should I expect lots of snow? We normally received some snow in Hertfordshire, but I was sadly disappointed with Derby last season. I had hoped for sledding and skating.”

“Well, Mrs. Darcy, I do believe you will receive your wish.” He placed her on his arm and led her away from the kitchen and toward the main part of the house.

However, when he turned to the main staircase and their private quarters, Elizabeth leaned into his shoulder. “I thought we were to enjoy the conservatory, Mr. Darcy,” she reminded him.

Darcy tilted his head in her direction to speak to her privately. “Do you object to a change in our destination, my Love?”

“Not even in the least, Fitzwilliam.” A blush betrayed her anticipation.