“Yes, ma’am.” Elizabeth’s glance passed from mother to daughter.
The moment had come. “I presume to kick the pot off the fire.”
Lady Catherine raised her eyebrows. “How do you plan to do that?”
“Change is opportunity. Kick the pot over, and the frogs may find their original pond nearby, or make their own way to abetterone. That is what I recommend.”
“Explain how you plan to kick this mythical pot over.”
Elizabeth leaned over the table. “Before I do, I ask you to trust me and agree to my terms in advance.”
Lady Catherine looked affronted; Anne frowned; Elizabeth waited.
“That seems presumptuous.”
“More than.”
“Do you plan to kick us out of the pot and into the fire or a desert?”
“No, my lady. I plan to kick the pot over into a nearby stream that runs to all the best lakes in the world.”
Lady Catherine laughed, a sound not often heard at Rosings. “I can say one thing. You can certainly beat a metaphor to death. How long will this stream run?”
“6 months or more.”
“And if I demur?”
Elizabeth shrugged and retrieved her watch. “You can set your watch by my uncle’s coachman. He will be here in 23 minutes, and in 25, I shall be in his coach going north, regardless.”
Lady Catherine laughed. “Ah, I see you use fixed schedules to prevent dithering. That explains the timing of this meeting.”
Elizabeth was startled, but Lady Catherine said, “Peace. I did not say it was abad thing. I quite like it. Very well, I shall put you to the proof. Anne, do you agree?”
Anne nodded, wondering what could possibly be resolved in 23 minutes.
Elizabeth smiled and picked up the second valise. “Stand up, Anne. It is fortunate we have no footmen here.”
Anne obeyed. To Elizabeth, she seemed almost formed to follow just about any instruction spoken forcefully enough—a habit that needed to end.
“The problem is that you arecomfortablein your little hot pot. You are both afraid to acknowledge that nothing is wrong with Anne save laziness. She plays no instrument, supposedly due to her health. I play well enough—a skill I developed while I was not yet 16 and my QOL was 30-40; yet in a decade, Anne has not learnt to play a single note. She was never presented and never enjoyed a season, also supposedly because she is unhealthy and you are afraid; yet she is robust enough.You are just afraid to leave the pot.”
Elizabeth carried the valise to a small table and beckoned Anne to join her, officiously snapping, “Over here, please.”
Anne hesitated, but complied reluctantly.
“Here is how we shall kick the pot.”
She extracted a dress from the valise. “Turn around.”
Anne turned, and Elizabeth started unbuttoning her gown, an action requiring a certain amount of hand slapping.
“You will come to Hertfordshire and become a Bennet ward for 6 months. My father’s household has gone from 6 females to 5, so you will redress the balance. You will learn a fewaccomplishments, attend local assemblies, walk with me until you gain some strength, and—to be honest—you must learn tolive. You need new horizons, Anne de Bourgh, and I intend to point you in the general direction and kick you from the nest.”
Elizabeth unfastened the last button. “Do not be embarrassed to undress in front of your mother. Sisters do that all the time, and you are going to experience as close to sisterhood as we can contrive. Put on this travelling dress, as yours is entirely too fine for Longbourn, not to mention being half a decade out of fashion. You will exchange jewellery as well.Hurry, hurry, hurry!We have 17 minutes.”
Anne stared in confusion, so Elizabeth clapped her hands loudly. “16 minutes, Anne.MOVE!”
To Elizabeth’s surprise, Anne pulled off her dress and stepped into the new one sharply, and Elizabeth buttoned it.
