Mama turned, hands on her hips. “Exactly where you left it. You see? If you would only keep to my system—”
Elizabeth passed it to her without comment, her eyes bright with amusement. “How remiss of me, to fail the system.”
“Well, it’s a mercy we have it now. If there’s to be company, everything must be perfect.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth said. “Nothing impresses a man like properly catalogued millinery.”
Lydia threw herself back onto the settee the moment their mother swept out of the room. “Well. That was exhausting. I’m certain she meant to shout at Kitty and just got the names mixed again.”
“She never confuses my name,” Kitty said. “Only yours.”
“Because I am more memorable.”
“Because you are louder.”
“Because I am the heroine,” Lydia declared, tossing a cushion in the air. “Which means the melancholy stranger is meant forme!”
“He is not melancholy,” Kitty argued. “He is mysterious.”
“Everyone is mysterious until they are revealed to be utterly ordinary,” Elizabeth laughed.
“What if he’s secretly a duke?”
Elizabeth resumed her seat by the window. “With amnesia, I suppose.”
“And a vendetta,” Lydia said eagerly. “He’s come to Netherfield to unmask the man who wronged him, only he doesn’t remember who it is.”
“He just knows it was someone… tall,” Kitty added, nodding with solemn drama.
“I do not think Mr Bingley’s guest is tall or wronged. But he is coming to dinner while he remains in Hertfordshire, if Mama has anything to say about it.”
“Soon?” Elizabeth asked. “We have yet to meet Mr Bingley, and now his whole party is looked upon as our rightful property.”
“I suppose that depends upon when we are introduced. If Papa can be prevailed upon to call on him again, it will be soon. Otherwise, I suppose we will meet them ourselves at the Assembly.”
Lydia gave a sigh and rolled over. “I shall die of suspense before then.”
“You will not,” Elizabeth said, amused. “You have a robust constitution.”
Jane crossed to her side. “Will you go walking today?”
Elizabeth glanced toward the window. The sky had cleared, and a warm edge had crept into the light. She nodded slowly. “Yes. I think I will. After I help with the account sheets. Papa has refused to touch them since March.”
“Why?” Kitty asked. “They’re so boring.”
“Exactly,” Elizabeth said. “And yet he persists in believing someone else will enjoy them more.”
She threaded the needle and made a single stitch before setting it down again.
Across the room, Lydia gave a delighted squeal and leapt up from the chaise. “Mama’s putting on her gloves in the hall! She must be going to town! Come, Kitty, don’t dawdle.”
Elizabeth gave Jane a look that was all silent affection and bone-deep weariness.
“You should walk,” Jane said again, gently. “I’ll help Mary.”
“I might.” Elizabeth stood and stretched, then crossed to the window and looked out at the pale sun rising above the hedgerow. “It seems a very fine day to walk somewhere that is not here.”
Chapter Four
