On his way home from the club that afternoon, Darcy stopped into a small jewelry store. He wandered around, looking from display to display, hoping something would jump out at him. After Elizabeth’s tale of her favorite gift from the uncle who knew her so well, he’d been able to think of little else but doing the same. He would buy her a gift that would suit her perfectly and she would realize how well he knew her, how well-matched they were, and it would have the added bonus of increasing her affection for him. This was a great responsibility to place on one tiny gift, and just when he thought he’d found the right thing, something else would catch his eye. In the end, the pressure of choosing something so perfect proved to be too much and he left the store in a frustrated huff.

He walked along Bond Street and made a stop at his tailor, as had been arranged, for a final fitting of his wedding coat. He was wearing blue. His sister had assured him that it was fashionable but he wouldn’t look like a dandy and the color was very complementary to his complexion. He’d agreed and wondered what Elizabeth was wearing. She hadn’t mentioned it in her letters. He hoped they would look well together, then immediately chastised himself for such a dandified thought.

As he was walking to his carriage, he passed a small hat shop that had a display of hair combs in the window. A pair caught his eye and he stepped closer. They had a cluster of small blue flowers—he didn’t know what kind, and he thought them very pretty and very like Elizabeth. Simple, beautiful, sweet, not seeking attention but sparkling just the same. He quickly stepped inside and bought the combs and had them wrapped and was on his way home in five minutes, a curious smile on his face.

Before he could become distracted, he closed himself in his study to write a letter to his betrothed.

Dearest Elizabeth,

I hope you are well. I’m so glad you are pleased with going to The Lakes. I think you will enjoy them immensely. I have borrowed a house from a friend of mine, John Lansdowne. He has an ideal place just off the shore of Lake Windermere and has agreed to allow us the use of it for a month. I have visited it twice before—it is a comfortable house and has a sweeping view of the lake as it is settled on a bit of a rise. There is a small boat that we can use to go out on the water. There is also an island not too far off shore that we could picnic on if you’d like.