Page 18 of The Crown’s Gift

"Mortally."

A bead of blood appeared. He reached for the handkerchief in his pocket at the same time Elizabeth lifted her own. Their hands met above the sewing basket.

The contact lasted no more than a second. His fingers were warm. Elizabeth withdrew first.

"I have survived," she said.

Darcy set his handkerchief beside her anyway. His initials were embroidered in one corner with severe neatness.

Jane looked from one to the other and discovered renewed interest in Cowper.

That evening, Caroline's restraint failed.

Lady Bennet had come to sit with Jane and remained for dinner. She spoke more loudly than Mrs Hurst considered fashionable, praised Bingley's kindness more than once, and expressed the hope that Jane would soon be well enough to return home—though her gaze suggested she would not object if recovery required a fortnight.

Caroline waited until the gentlemen joined them.

"How fortunate for Miss Bennet that her family is so near," she said. "Though I confess I would find it peculiar to be nursed in a house once my own."

Lady Bennet folded her embroidery. "Would you?"

"I suppose attachment to old rooms is stronger in some people than others. For my part, when one improves one's situation, it is best not to look backward too often."

Bingley said, "Caroline."

She ignored him. "Of course, Netherfield was so extraordinary a gift. One can hardly blame a family for preferring it."

The room stilled.

Elizabeth saw her mother understand every implication: that the Bennets had abandoned Longbourn for splendor, that royal favor rather than merit sustained them, that their presence in the old house was sentimental intrusion.

Ten years earlier Mrs Bennet would have answered with income, rank, and outrage. Lady Bennet placed one measured stitch into the linen.

"My husband spent six years improving Longbourn before he offered it to your brother," she said. "The cottages have new roofs, the south fields proper drainage, and the house new plumbing. We look backward sufficiently to care for what is behind us."

Caroline's color rose.

"I meant no criticism."

"Then we are fortunate, for I took none."

Sir Thomas, who had entered unnoticed at the final sentence, crossed the room and bent over his wife's hand.

"My dear, Jane is asking for you."

Lady Bennet rose. As she passed Elizabeth, their eyes met. Pride—not vanity, but earned pride—filled Elizabeth so strongly that it hurt.

Bingley followed his sister into the corridor a few minutes later. The door did not fully close.

"You will not speak so to Lady Bennet again," he said.

Caroline's answer came in a hiss. "I spoke no differently than I should to any country acquaintance."

"She is my landlord's wife and Miss Bennet's mother. More importantly, she has been kind to you."

"Kind? She has inspected every room since arriving."

"Her daughter is ill in the house where she raised five children. If she inspects the roof beams, I shall offer her a ladder."