She ought to be attending.
She knew it.
Instead, she found herself recalling the steady warmth of Darcy’s arm about her, the quiet strength of his presence, the way the world—if only for a few brief hours—had seemed held at bay.
How easy it would be to return there.
To withdraw. To close the door. To pretend, if only for a day, that nothing beyond those walls required her notice.
Elizabeth reached for her teacup, steadying herself with the familiar motion.
No.
The thought was as firm as it was unwelcome. There was no retreating from what awaited them. The world had a way of intruding—persistently, inexorably—no matter how one might wish otherwise. She had learned that lesson too well to ignore it now.
Still…
Her lips curved faintly despite herself as she lowered her gaze.
It had been very pleasant, while it lasted.
“Elizabeth?”
She started slightly and looked up to find Georgiana watching her with quiet concern.
“You seem fatigued this morning,” the younger girl said softly.
Elizabeth summoned a small smile. “I did not sleep as soundly as I might have wished.”
Which was not, strictly speaking, untrue—though not for the reason Georgiana would suppose.
Across the table, Lady Catherine was speaking with Jane. “…and I always maintain that a proper arrangement of the morning room makes all the difference to one’s comfort. At Rosings, of course—”
The newly-minted Mrs. Bingley nodded politely. “I am certain Rosings sets the standard in such matters.”
Only Jane,Elizabeth thought, hiding her smile with her napkin.
Lady Catherine accepted this without suspicion, continuing her discourse with evident satisfaction.
Elizabeth set her cup aside as the footmen moved quietly about the table, removing dishes and replacing them with fresh. The presence of servants pressed upon her awareness, shaping every word, every expression. It was a peculiar sort of performance—conversation stripped of substance, meaning hidden beneath polite trivialities.
It could not continue.
As the meal began to draw to a close, Elizabeth turned slightly toward Jane, timing her words carefully.
“Jane,” she said in a tone of casual ease, “Papa and his… brother will be calling at Netherfield this morning.”
She darted her gaze towards the servants, and Jane’s eyes widened. “Of course,” she said in a forced tone. “I imagine you all will wish to speak privately, given how long it has been since we have seen him.”
“Yes, precisely.” Elizabeth was relieved Jane could understand her request so easily.
“The small morning room with the rose design would be an ideal place for you,” Jane continued. “I will have the fire lit.”
Elizabeth inclined her head in agreement, grateful—as always—for Jane’s ability to adjust without fuss.
Jane turned slightly, including the others. “Lady Anne, Miss Darcy—perhaps you would walk with me in the gardens while the gentlemen are engaged?”
“I think that would be very pleasant,” Lady Anne replied at once.
