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The morning after the assembly, Elizabeth lay awake by a candle stub, with yesterday's folded sheet tucked inside a little notebook propped across her knees. She ruled a line across the top of the page: Scores are estimates of how free an action feels. Counts are provisional; yesterday I mixed thoughts, instructions, and actual movements. Do not mistake irritation for arithmetic. She disliked the qualification, which was a reason to keep it.

Elizabeth had slept badly. Each time she woke, she listened for Jane beside her before opening her eyes. Her sister had turned in her sleep and stolen most of the coverlet. Elizabeth recovered a corner with a gratitude quite out of proportion to the theft.

Excellent start to the day, she thought.

Beside her, Jane breathed gently. Elizabeth wrote:

Things I Know For Certain:

1. The assembly and the insult occurred as predicted

2. Darcy experienced a compulsion he did not choose; he also knew something I had not told him

3. We are meeting this morning at Oakham Mount

4. He may have a better explanation. Ask before frightening him further.

Things I Don't Know:

1. Why any of this has happened

2. Whether Mr. Darcy has found a way to decline breakfast without taking a walk

Her heart hammered.

Elizabeth laid a hand over the page until she could continue writing neatly.

Jane stirred. "Lizzy? Have you been awake long?"

"Too long. I am sorry if I disturbed you."

"You were very strange last night."

"I know." Elizabeth folded the notebook shut. "I wanted to tell you something and could not make it sound sensible. You were kind to try to understand it."

Jane reached beneath the coverlet and found her hand. Elizabeth held it until her sister was ready to rise.

By the time pale sunlight filtered through her window, Elizabeth had renewed her resolve. She would meet Darcy. They would compare notes. They would figure this out together. And if the narrative wanted to stop her, it would have to try harder than making her breath catch.

"I thought I might walk before breakfast," Elizabeth said. "To clear my head."

"Shall I accompany you?" Jane offered, already beginning to rise.

Elizabeth felt the narrative tug. Jane wasn't supposed to come. This was an Elizabeth-and-Darcy scene. But what if she said yes anyway? What if she... Her mouth opened. "No, thank you. I'd prefer solitude."

Damn it.

Jane accepted this with her characteristic agreeability, and Elizabeth felt a pang of guilt. Was Jane aware? Was she suffering alone while Elizabeth ran off to commiserate with Darcy?

I'll test her later, Elizabeth promised herself. Right now, I have a meeting with my fellow prisoner.

* * *

The walk to Oakham Mount was suspiciously lovely. Autumn trees in gold and amber, gentle breeze, singing birds. A robin hopped along the hedge ahead of her. She stopped when it stopped and was permitted to watch it until it flew. For once she had looked at something without needing an explanation.

Elizabeth decided to experiment as she walked. Small rebellions. Testing boundaries. She tried to turn left at a fork in the path. Her feet went right.

This turning is refused, she noted. Try it again when there is no appointment.