A knock sounded at the door.
Elizabeth closed her eyes.
“Lizzy?” Jane’s voice followed, already edged with worry. “May I come in?”
“If you must,” Elizabeth said, and immediately regretted her tone.
The door opened, and Jane crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed, her hand hovering for a moment before settling lightly at Elizabeth’s wrist, as though she were unsure whether contact would be welcome.
“You left supper so suddenly,” Jane said. “Mama is quite vexed—and Mr Collins was—well,veryattentive afterward.”
Elizabeth huffed, then winced faintly at the sound. “I am sure he was.”
Jane studied her face. “Is it your head again?”
Elizabeth considered denying it. The effort required seemed greater than the truth. “Only a little,” she said. “It is nothing.”
“You said that at Netherfield.”
“Yes, and I was correct. I survived the experience.”
“You look pale. And you have been so quiet these past days. I thought you were better.”
“So did I.” Elizabeth turned onto her side, propping her elbow beneath her. “Jane, truly, there is nothing to be done. I am tired. That is all. Supper was long.”
“And Mr Collins?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes… carefully. “Is eternal.”
Jane’s lips curved despite herself. “Papa asked me to come and see you.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, then dug her fingers into her eyes. “Did he?”
Jane nodded. “He would like you to come down when you feel equal to it.”
Elizabeth sighed and let her head fall back against the pillow. “I suppose I am to be set down for my behaviour at dinner.”
“I doubt it. He did not seem displeased. Only… concerned.”
Elizabeth sat up. The movement brought a faint echo of pressure, but nothing like before. She pressed her fingers briefly to her temple and then dropped her hand, determined not to invite further scrutiny.
“I am quite able to go downstairs,” she said. “I do not require a tribunal.”
Jane smiled, though her eyes remained watchful. “It is only Papa.”
“That,” Elizabeth said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, “is precisely the difficulty.”
Jane rose to give her room. “Shall I come with you?”
Elizabeth shook her head and reached for her shawl. “No. If I require an audience, I shall request one.”
Jane hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. But if you feel unwell again—”
“I shall retreat with dignity,” Elizabeth said, standing. “Or at least with speed.”
Jane laughed softly and stepped aside as Elizabeth passed her, though she did not look away until Elizabeth had reached the door.
The corridor beyond was quiet. Elizabeth paused there a moment, letting the air out of her lungs. The pressure behind her ears, under her eyelids, did not return. She drew a careful breath and made her way downstairs.
