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"I'm talking about curtains. Again. I've described these exact curtains seventeen times this month. Why do I care so much about curtains? Why does anyone care this much about curtains?"

Mr. Collins made a strangled noise. "But your ladyship, the curtains at Rosings are exceptional⁠—"

"Enough, Mr. Collins." Lady Catherine stood abruptly. "You agree with everything I say. I have scarcely finished admiring a curtain before you are obliged to admire it more."

"I... I am honored to agree with your ladyship's superior judgments⁠—"

"There. You have done it again."

Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged horrified glances.

Oh no, Elizabeth thought. She's waking up.

"Something is wrong," Lady Catherine announced, pacing now. "I can feel it. Like... like I'm following a script. Like someone is writing my words and I'm just..." She stopped, staring at her hands. "I didn't choose to stand up just now. My body just... did it. Why didn't I choose to stand up?!"

"Aunt Catherine," Darcy tried. "Perhaps you should sit⁠—"

"Do not offer me a chair while I am objecting to the furniture!" She whirled on Darcy. "You are a grown man with your own fortune. Surely I have some occupation besides choosing your wife?"

"Oh dear," Charlotte murmured.

"You know something!" Lady Catherine pointed at Elizabeth and Darcy. "You two have been smiling at each other like you're in on some secret! Tell me right now what is happening or I swear I will⁠—"

She paused.

"I'll what? What will I do? I don't know! I was about to threaten you but I don't know what threat to use because whoever wrote me didn't specify!" Lady Catherine's voice was getting increasingly shrill. "I'm a stock character! I'm the disapproving aristocrat! That's all I am!"

Mr. Collins fainted. Charlotte caught his sleeve just in time to guide him away from the fender. Anne rang for assistance, with the weary competence of a household accustomed to interruptions.

"Lady Catherine," Elizabeth said carefully, "you need to breathe⁠—"

"Do not issue another instruction!" Lady Catherine gripped the chair. "Not until I know which of my actions I have chosen."

"I have been asking myself the same question since the assembly," Darcy said quietly.

"And you've known? This entire time?!"

"Yes."

"And you didn't tell me?!"

"We didn't think you'd handle it well," Elizabeth admitted.

"I am handling it terribly!" Lady Catherine pulled at the bell rope. A servant appeared, and she stared at him. "I have forgotten what I meant to ask. You may go." She waited until the door closed before trying to speak again.

Anne de Bourgh looked up from her corner. "Mother, the chair has done nothing to you. You might sit in it while you complain."

"You can speak of this so calmly?!" Lady Catherine stared at her daughter.

"I have had time to become accustomed to it. I generally choose not to talk about it. There is quite enough scripted nonsense about being sickly and obedient without my assistance." Anne went back to her spaniels book. "I've made peace with it. You should too."

"I will not be reduced to one occupation!"

"Then choose another," Anne said. "I'm reading about spaniels. You may borrow the book when I've finished it."

Lady Catherine looked like she might explode.

"This is unacceptable! I demand to speak to the author!"