Jane resumed her seat and began threading the ribbon through the bodice of her gown, drawing it evenly through the loops.
“You were long in conversation with Mr. Darcy yesterday,” she said, almost casually.
Elizabeth did not immediately answer. “We spoke,” she said at last. “I wished to clarify matters.”
“About Mr. Wickham?”
“Yes.”
Jane paused but did not look up. “And are you satisfied?”
Elizabeth considered. “I am… less certain of what I once believed. It is true – he had received money. Mr. Darcy impliedit was no trifling sum. Mr. Wickham deceived me. I do not feel flattered by it now; rather, I feel foolish.”
Jane lifted her eyes at that. “I never thought Mr. Darcy capable of deliberate injustice. He came here to support his friend. Such a man would hardly behave honourably in one instance and dishonourably in another.”
“No.” Elizabeth smiled faintly. “It is most inconvenient. I had so neatly arranged both gentlemen in my understanding. I begin to suspect I am not so discerning as I imagined.”
Jane’s fingers stilled briefly. “I am glad he spoke plainly with you.”
“So am I. He surprised me.” Elizabeth moved to sit opposite her. “Though he does not always succeed in being plain without also being… instructive.”
Jane’s eyes lifted, amused. “He is accustomed to being listened to.”
“He is accustomed to being right.”
“And is he?”
Elizabeth hesitated. “Possibly. He said I was young and possessed of little experience in the world.”
Jane’s smile deepened. “In that, at least, he cannot be entirely mistaken. Very little extraordinary occurs here.”
Another pause.
“And Mr. Bingley?” Elizabeth asked lightly. “You were not much neglected yesterday.”
Jane coloured slightly, though her composure did not falter. “He is very attentive.”
“That he is.”
“I think,” Jane continued, carefully smoothing the ribbon, “that he feels everything very sincerely. There is no calculation in him.”
“No,” Elizabeth agreed. “There is not.”
Jane looked thoughtful. “It is a comfort.”
Elizabeth studied her sister’s face – the serenity, the quiet happiness that did not blaze but glowed.
“And you?” Jane asked gently. “Do you find Mr. Darcy more comfortable company now?”
Elizabeth looked down at the lace in her hands.
“I think he is less inclined to despise us,” she said lightly.
Jane tilted her head. “Lizzy.”
Elizabeth exhaled. “He was very gracious about our family after dining with us,” she said at last. “That is something.”
“And you?”
