Elizabeth suppressed a sigh. Lydia's "impression" had consisted of giggling excessively and batting her eyelashes with all the subtlety of a stage actress. Still, Lieutenant Galway had seemed amused rather than repelled, so perhaps her sister's tactics were more effective than Elizabeth initially thought.
"Mr Poulett is equally handsome," Kitty countered with the sort of competitive edge that characterised most conversations between the two youngest Bennet sisters. "And he actually called here, which Lieutenant Galway has not yet done. Mr Poulett brought me flowers from his mother's garden and stayed for nearly an hour discussing the weather and his prospects."
"The weather," Lydia scoffed. "How thrilling."
"It was a perfectly pleasant conversation, and he has promised to call again on Thursday." Kitty lifted her chin. "He also just recently sent me a poem, telling me he’s always thinking of me. At least Mr Poulett knows how to court a lady properly, unlike your lieutenant, who’s merely spotted across the street."
"Very romantic indeed," Mary observed dryly from the pianoforte. "I wonder whether constant thought might not interfere with his other obligations. A gentleman ought to maintain some discipline of mind."
Kitty glared at her. "You are simply jealous because no gentleman thinks of you at all."
"Girls!" Mrs Bennet's voice cracked across the room like a whip. "I will not have such quarrelling. Kitty, Mr Poulett's attentions are most gratifying, and you must endeavour to encourage them. Especially with his mother so well placed. I hear her sister is one of the Lady Patronesses at Almack’s. Mary, there is no need for your commentary. And Lydia, do try to conduct yourself with some decorum when you encounter Lieutenant Galway. We cannot have a repeat of your behaviour at the last assembly."
The chastisement had little effect. Lydia immediately launched into an animated description of Lieutenant Galway's superior qualities, while Kitty retreated to the window seat with her letter, re-reading it with evident pleasure. Mary returned to her practice, attacking the keys with renewed vigour.
Elizabeth felt the familiar restlessness rising. She loved her family—truly, she did—but there were moments when the sitting room at Longbourn felt suffocating. Everyone was so absorbed in their own concerns, their own small dramas. Jane's quiet courtship, Kitty's correspondence, Lydia's infatuation. Even Mary had her music, severe and joyless as it was.
And she had... what? A borrowed correspondence with a man who believed her to be someone else entirely.
She set aside her embroidery and rose. "I believe I shall take a walk."
Jane looked up. "Would you like company?"
"Thank you, no. I wish to call upon Cassandra. It has been some days since I last saw her, and I should not like her to think me neglectful."
This was not strictly true—Elizabeth and Cassandra's friendship had always been more circumstantial than dedicated—but it served as an adequate excuse. Jane nodded her understanding and returned to her work.
Elizabeth collected her spencer and bonnet, slipped out through the front entrance, and set off towards the Rochford estate at a brisk pace. The November air bit at her cheeks, but the cold felt invigorating after the stuffiness of the sitting room. Above, clouds moved swiftly across a grey sky, promising rain before evening.
The walk to the Rochford estate took the better part of half an hour. She used the time to arrange her thoughts, to consider whatever information Cassandra might impart. Perhaps there was a simple explanation for Mr Darcy's silence. Perhaps he had been delayed by estate business, or decided to postpone his journey. Perhaps he had arrived at Netherfield already and simply had not yet had the opportunity to write.
Or perhaps something had happened.
The thought brought a chill that had nothing to do with the November wind.
Engleton House rose before her, imposing and perfectly maintained. Elizabeth had always thought it rather cold, despite its grandeur—or perhaps because of it. Everything about the Rochfords spoke of careful cultivation, from their gardens to their flawless manners. Nothing was left to chance or nature's whim.
The butler admitted her without surprise and showed her to the morning room, where Cassandra sat surrounded by fashion plates and correspondence. She looked up at Elizabeth's entrance, her expression flickering briefly with something that might have been guilt before smoothing into her usual pleasant mask.
"Elizabeth! What a lovely surprise. I was not expecting you today."
"I hope I do not intrude." Elizabeth settled into the offered chair, untying her bonnet. "It has been some time since we spoke, and I thought I might call."
"Not at all, not at all. You are always welcome here." Cassandra set aside the fashion plate she had been examining—a frock with bright, flowery decoration—and folded her hands in her lap. "Although I am surprised to see you venture out in such weather. It looks ready to rain at any moment."
"I do not mind a bit of weather. Besides, I wished to enquire..." she hesitated, unsure how to phrase the question without making her concern too obvious. "Has there been any further word from Mr Darcy? You mentioned in his last letter that he intended to travel to Netherfield."
"Ah," her friend said, her expression shifting. "Yes. About that."
Elizabeth's breath caught. "Has something happened?"
For a long moment, Cassandra did not answer. She picked up the fashion plate again, set it down, and smoothed her skirts. Finally, she met Elizabeth's gaze.
"I received word four days ago," she said, the look of guilt crossing her face again. "From Lady Catherine. Mr Darcy wasinvolved in an accident at his mine. A horse bolted, and he... he was injured saving one of his workers."
The room seemed to tilt. Elizabeth gripped the arm of her chair. "Injured? How severely?"
"He struck his head. Lady Catherine's letter was not entirely clear on the particulars, but she indicated that he was unconscious afterwards for some days. His physician is attending him, of course. Apparently his memory has been affected. He has trouble recalling recent events.”
