Town fashion,Elizabeth observed.But restrained. Sensible.
Jane caught Elizabeth’s eye and gave the faintest shake of her head.
Elizabeth crossed the room at once.
“Lizzy,” Jane said softly when they were near enough to speak without being overheard, “may I have a word?”
They retreated a step toward the window, Jane lowering her voice.
“I am…uncertain,” Jane admitted. “I am pleased, of course. Mr. Bingley is exceedingly kind. But his sisters—”
Elizabeth did not prompt. She waited.
“They do not like me,” Jane continued. “Nor our home. Nor the neighborhood. They smile, but it is not warmth. I fear I may say something amiss.”
Elizabeth studied her cousin’s face, noting the tension beneath her serenity.
“You will say nothing amiss,” she replied firmly. “But you must be careful what you answer.”
Jane frowned slightly. “Careful?”
“Think before you speak if you are asked about our circumstances,” Elizabeth said. “You owe no one an explanation of your worth. And remember this—” She met Jane’s gaze. “You are not fortunate because you have been noticed. Mr. Bingley is fortunate to have noticed you.”
Jane’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile. “You always know how to say things.”
“I know how the world works,” Elizabeth returned gently. “And I know you.”
Jane hesitated. “Elizabeth…do you think they will be unkind?”
“They may be impertinent,” Elizabeth allowed. “That is not the same thing. Answer politely. Do not volunteer more than is asked. And if you feel uncomfortable, you may always say you are fatigued.”
Jane nodded slowly, taking comfort from the advice.
“We shall speak more when you return,” Elizabeth added. “You will tell me everything.”
Jane reached for her hand and squeezed it briefly. “I promise.”
Mrs. Bennet swept over then, declaring that it was quite time and urging Jane toward the door with excited commentary about punctuality and impressions. Elizabeth watched as her cousin donned her muff and gloves, her composure settling once more into place.
As the carriage departed, Elizabeth remained standing at the window, her earlier resolve only strengthened.
Think before answering,she had told Jane.
She would take her own counsel.
Soon, she would speak with her uncle. Then, she would decide how much longer she was willing to let others define the limits of her life.
Jane returned to Longbourn later than Elizabeth had expected.
The house was already quieting for the night when Elizabeth heard the carriage wheels upon the gravel and, a moment later, Jane’s familiar step in the corridor. Elizabeth rose at once and went to her door, admitting her cousin without waiting for a knock. Jane’s pelisse had been removed, her bonnet set aside by a maid, and she stood there in her gown, looking composed but subdued.
“Come in,” Elizabeth said softly, closing the door behind them. “You look as though you have much to tell.”
Jane gave a small, weary smile and crossed the room to sit upon the edge of the bed. Elizabeth joined her, folding her hands in her lap and waiting.
“It was pleasant,” Jane began, as though reciting a lesson she had already practiced. “Mr. Bingley was attentive—very much so. He would have had me speak of nothing but myselfif he could have managed it. We dined comfortably, and the conversation was agreeable enough.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “And yet?”
