Jane met her eyes in the mirror. "Are you very tired?"
"A little," Elizabeth said. "And a little—" She stopped, and shook her head. "No matter."
Jane did not press her. She set aside another pin, her movements unhurried. "Mama bore it very well," she said instead. "I thought her particularly… steady. She is better here, I think?"
Elizabeth turned from the window then. "Yes," she said. "So do I."
For a moment they were quiet.
"You were very composed too," Jane added, after a pause. "I do not think I should have managed it half so well. Whatever was Mr Darcy about?"
Elizabeth gave her a look of arch amusement, though her heart was not in it. She ignored her sister’s second question entirely. "You would have managed it perfectly. You always do."
Jane coloured faintly. "I am not so certain of that."
"You should be."
Jane’s smile softened, but she did not pursue it. "We should not sit up longer," she said, rising. "Mrs Makepeace will think us quite unmanageable if we do."
"You get some sleep," Elizabeth said. "I will follow in a moment."
Jane hesitated, and then climbed into the canopied bed. Her breathing slowing after just a few minutes into the evenness of sleep.
Elizabeth undressed mechanically, unpinning her hair and stepping out of her gown with very little thought. She pulled on her nightgown and wrapped a warm shawl around her shoulders, sitting in the armchair before the fire. She had picked up a book but failed to even open the cover.
After some time she became aware of a very soft knock on the door. She startled at the muffled sound. It must be after one, perhaps her mother was unwell, another headache? She sighed and pulled open the door.
Darcy was in the passage. When had he become simply Darcy to her? She wasn’t sure.
For a moment, they only looked at one another.
"Sir," she said at last, very low, "you cannot be here."
"I am aware of it," he said.
"You must go."
He watched her for a moment without answering, and then he stepped closer. He set one hand against the side doorframe above her, then the other on the opposite side, leaning over her, so that she was held there without being touched at all.
Elizabeth felt the closeness, the heat of him. She knew she ought to move and did not.
"You must not stand so near," she said, though the protest came softer than she intended.
"Then tell me so in a way that will make me obey you," he said, his eyes searching her face.
"I have told you," she replied. "You simply do not care to listen."
"I listen very well," he said. "What I do not do is pretend I believe you."
Colour rose in her face. "You are very obliging."
"And you are not convincing," he returned quietly. "You would have me treat what has passed between us as nothing. You would have me forget that I am a gentleman. And that I cannot stop thinking of you. Marry me, Elizabeth, and end my torment."
"I do not accept you," she said at once. “You ask me in the dark sir. In the cold light of day the matter will have an entirely different slant.”
"Consider it. That is all I ask."
"I have considered it," she said, lifting her chin.
