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“The pins in my hair?”

“But Lizzy! After all my work in putting it up!”

“I am sure it is half-fallen down at the back anyway, Jane, and the pins stick into me when I lay my head on the pillow!”

With a sigh, Jane complied, letting Lizzy’s tresses down at the back.

“Is that all?” she asked.

“A book?” Lizzy requested timidly.

Jane might have been at a loss to fulfil this request, but she noticed a volume of Cecilia, which Lizzy had been reading aloud during Jane’s convalescence at Netherfield, still sitting on the bedside table.

“Will this do, or did you finish it?”

“That will do nicely. I only got halfway through the third volume. Now, go!”

“Thank you,” said Jane, kissing her sister; and in a rustle of silk, she was out the door.

Elizabeth settled down to read, with the music from the ballroom forming a pleasant accompaniment. But while her eyes followed the text down the page, her mind was definitely elsewhere. She was thinking how wonderful it had felt to be in Mr Darcy’s arms, to be lifted as if she were a feather. She had never been carried like that as an adult before. She had been careful not to look at him as he carried her, but Lizzy could not forget the feeling of his hard chest against her arm, and his warm arms around her. If she had thought he smelt good when they waltzed together, she had had every opportunity to appreciate his wonderful scent as he carried her upstairs, his exertions no doubt contributing to it. She had never been that close to a man before.

Once the discomfort of her stays had been removed, Lizzy soon became aware that her ankle had begun to throb. Reaching down, she tried to untie the ribbons of her left slipper; but as bending was also rather painful, she only managed to turn the bow into a knot.

Not a quarter of an hour after Jane left, there was another knock. When Jane did not immediately appear, Elizabeth thought it might be one of the Bingley sisters; or worse, her mother, and it was with some trepidation that she bid the person enter.

She was speechless when Mr Darcy slipped into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Mr Darcy!” she said, levering herself up with a wince.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Can I get you anything?”

Elizabeth wondered where this new, solicitous Mr Darcy had come from. She noticed he was wearing a fresh cravat and had also changed his coat.

“No, thank you. I am fine.”

“Some punch?” he asked, stepping forward, his eyes roaming over the discarded stays.

“I believe I have already been accused of drinking too much of it,” Elizabeth smiled.

“You heard that? I am sorry. Caroline is a bit much sometimes.”

“No matter, but you had better take yourself off before she finds you in here.”

“I had to come back…” he explained as he removed his hand from behind his back.

“…I somehow ended up with this,” he said, proffering the cameo.

Elizabeth’s hand flew to her throat in surprise. Distracted by her various hurts, she had not noticed her necklace was missing.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting it.

Lizzy had no sooner done so than they heard voices in the hall. She saw Mr Darcy mouth a swear word.

Darcy knew he could not be caught alone with a lady in a bedchamber. He should have called a maid to deliver the cameo, but they were all preoccupied with the ball. Glancing around desperately, he hid behind the brocade curtain.

Lizzy quickly lay back down on the pillow.

With a peremptory knock, Louisa entered with Lizzy’s mother.