“I did not mean to injure you. Are you very sore? Would you rather we rest instead of touring the house?” he asked contritely.

“No, I’ve had enough of my room for the day. I’d like to stretch my legs. Shall we tour the guest rooms? We didn’t see them when I visited before.”

And so they were off. He told her stories about the rooms and who usually stayed in each and when they were last changed. She made mental notes of the furniture and which coverlets looked like they should be replaced soon. She was pleasantly surprised to find that the rooms were beautifully done but were not garish. This is true elegance, she thought. Where beauty and comfort are the goals, not the display of wealth.

When the tour was complete she said, “There is one room I have not seen yet.”

“Which is that?”

“Yours.”

He hesitated but a moment. “This way.”

He took her arm and led her rather swiftly through the halls so she was practically skipping to keep up with his long strides.

He opened a door and led her in, saying, “My lady’s wish is my command.”

She stepped into his bedchamber and looked around, curiosity getting the better of her. There was a leather chair by the fireplace and a soft fur rug in front of it. She noted the door she presumed led to his dressing room and another that led to a balcony outside. She opened it and looked out, the rain preventing her from exploring further.

“It extends to the sitting room that direction.” He pointed to his right and she looked obligingly, her eyes catching sight of the bed.

It was covered in a deep green counterpane with curtains of a similar shade pulled tight to the posts. There was a small table on either side with a lamp. She quickly looked away and noted the round table in the center, presumably for dining in his chambers and another chair in the corner. Altogether, it was rather sparsely furnished and she wondered if it was by design or if he hadn’t really noticed it.

“You do not have much furniture,” she observed.

“No. I do not like clutter.”

She nodded and walked to the other side of the room, feeling the plush rug beneath her slippers and sliding her hand along the smooth wood of the table.

“May I?” she asked, reaching for his dressing room door.

“Of course.”

She stepped inside the small room. It was similar to hers in that it was surrounded by wardrobe doors that she was sure were filled with elegant clothes, but the style was rather different. Hers was done in pale, light colors while Darcy’s was a rich blue.