Elizabeth hesitated, then spoke the question she had been carrying for months, carefully phrased so as not to sound like presumption. “Do you think—” she stopped herself, regrouping her thoughts. “Do you think it would be…possible, when I return, that matters might be…reconsidered?”
The princess looked at her then, fully and steadily. “You mean your presentation.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I know the prince has refused before. I would not wish to press where it is unwelcome. But I am no longer a child, Aunt. I know how to conduct myself. I have been taught—very thoroughly.” A small, wry smile touched her lips. “Perhaps more thoroughly than most.”
Her aunt reached across the table and laid her hand over Elizabeth’s. “I know,” she said softly. “And you are right. You have been prepared for years—only never permitted to demonstrate it.”
Elizabeth searched her face. “Will you speak to him?”
Princess Caroline did not answer at once. Her thumb traced a slow circle against Elizabeth’s hand, a familiar, grounding gesture. “I hope to do just that,” she said finally. “I cannot promise you success. You know better than anyone how uncertain such appeals can be.”
Elizabeth did. She had learned early that hope must be handled with care.
“But,” her aunt continued, her voice lowering, “things are…shifting. He is less inclined to notice me than he once was, and that neglect may be turned to advantage. You will soon be of age. It grows harder to justify keeping you hidden.”
Elizabeth felt a flicker of excitement she did not quite dare indulge. “If I were presented,” she said slowly, “I would not embarrass you. I know how to exist at the edges of society. I have watched you do it all my life.”
Princess Caroline’s smile this time held more sadness than pride. “Yes,” she said. “You have.”
Elizabeth thought of the fashionable balls she had glimpsed only from a distance, so different from the gatherings she attended with her aunt and from the assemblies in Hertfordshire. She considered the names she knew by heart but she had never been permitted to meet. She knew the rules, the rhythms, the language of the ton—yet she had never truly beeninit.
“I should like,” she said thoughtfully, “to choose my own path.”
Caroline’s hand tightened briefly around hers. “That,” she said, “is precisely why I will try.”
Elizabeth carried that conversation with her when she left London the next morning. It was not a promise, but it was something rarer—an acknowledgment that her life was poised on the threshold of change.
And for the first time in years, she allowed herself to wonder what might come when she returned.
Chapter Ten
Longbourn received callers the day after Elizabeth’s arrival. The house, still warm with the comfort of her return, felt particularly animated, as though the walls themselves welcomed familiar voices. Charlotte Lucas, a young lady seven years her elder, greeted Elizabeth with a warm smile, stepping forward with an ease born of long acquaintance.
“It is very good to see you again, my friend. The country air agrees with you, I see.”
Elizabeth returned the smile with genuine affection. “It always does,” came Elizabeth’s reply. “I prefer it to Town. Heaven knows, I would enjoy spending the majority of my year here, if it were possible.”
Charlotte’s expression softened, though a trace of longing crossed her features. “Oh, but the opportunities for making a match are far greater in the city. I wish my family would partake in the season.” She smiled pleasantly, though the smile did not entirely disguise her envy. “It must be lovely to move in such circles.”
If only you knew more of the gilded cage in which I live. Charlotte was not privy to Elizabeth’s true situation. The closely guarded secret was more to protect Elizabeth from anyone who would take advantage than anything else. Elizabeth merely inclined her head, offering a polite, noncommittal smile that Charlotte accepted without suspicion.
“Well, Eliza, now that you are returned, what mischief have you planned?” The subject change was abrupt, and Elizabeth laughed in surprise.
“You are as bad as my uncle, dear Charlotte. He too accused me of planning some sort of mayhem. Indeed, I have no such designs. Instead, I proposed we organize a picnic so I might see my friends.”
“That is an excellent notion. Jane, what say you? Shall we arrange it for tomorrow week?” Charlotte raised a brow at the eldest Bennet sister, her tone bright with anticipation.
“I think that is a fine idea.” Jane turned to Mrs. Bennet, who sat across the room speaking animatedly to Lady Lucas. “Mama, may we proceed with our planning?”
“Yes, of course, my dear.” Mrs. Bennet waved her hand vaguely, her focus entirely on her friend, her voice rising and falling with enthusiasm as though imparting news of the greatest consequence.
“Whatever they are discussing, Mama is entirely engaged,” Mary whispered, her lips twitching with restrained amusement.
“Oh, I am certain my mother is telling her the news.” Charlotte grinned slyly. “Netherfield Park is let at last!”
Elizabeth’s heart seized, though she schooled her expression carefully. Her estate had been leased many times over the years. Requirements for repairs and updates were minimal, and any changes the tenants wished to make had to be approved by Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet. The income from leasing the estate had been added to Elizabeth’s fortune, which was substantial.
“Oh?” Jane asked curiously. “What do you know about the new tenants?”
