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The maid began gathering the tissue paper, then hesitated over the cloak. Elizabeth told her to leave that too. She could ask her husband what he had ordered without requiring a servant to guess whose instructions would prevail.

She washed her hands though they were already clean, dried them, and took an unreasonable time fastening the clasp at her wrist. Tuesday evening returned in pieces: his chair by the fire, the book placed ready for her, the warmth of his mouth. She had asked to be told before anything concerning her was arranged. The request had been neither obscure nor made in anger. He could not have mistaken it.

At his study door she stopped trying to imagine his explanation. That absence frightened her. Usually she could supply him with half a dozen motives before he spoke, some unworthy, some so nearly kind that she was obliged to consider them. This morning there was only a travelling case, opened without her knowledge.

Darcy rose from his desk. “I was about to come to you.”

“Then we have saved the length of the passage. Where am I going?”

* * *

He dismissed the servant who had been waiting with a tray and closed the study door. Elizabeth remained standing while he returned to the desk. A folded letter lay beside his hand. She recognised Lady Catherine's writing before he touched it.

“The preparations are provisional,” he said. “My aunt has made certain proposals.”

Elizabeth had come prepared to hear his aunt blamed. She had not expected him to offer the blame so readily, with the letter still lying beyond her reach. “Her proposals have reached my maid. They appear to be travelling faster than the explanation.”

“I wished to have a means of taking you out of London if it became necessary.”

“Necessary to whom?” Elizabeth came nearer the desk. “Let me read the letter.”

Darcy kept his hand upon it for a moment. Then he gave it to her. It was longer than Saturday's notice of a call and considerably less civil. Lady Catherine wished Elizabeth removed from London, her visits to Charlotte ended and Charlotte herself restored to the quieter, more suitable surroundings of Rosings. Her ladyship referred to an enquiry concerning a lantern by the embankment after dark, to discrepancies which had caused her concern and to family obligations which ought to prevent that concern from becoming public.

Elizabeth read the final paragraph twice. Compliance would make further enquiries unnecessary. Her ladyship had contrived to offer it as a kindness.

“When did you receive this?”

“Monday.”

On Tuesday he had set her book beside her chair, already knowing what his aunt intended. Elizabeth had read with him and laughed with him. He had watched her enjoy an evening she would have spent very differently if he had shown her this letter.

“And the packing was ordered yesterday.” She looked at him until he answered that it had been. “After I asked you to tell me what concerned me.”

“I had not decided that we should leave.”

“You decided that everyone should be ready for my departure except me.” Her voice failed on the last word, and she hated that he heard it. She lowered the paper before he could mistake the tremor in it for fear of his aunt. “Did you expect to tell me when the carriage came round?”

Darcy moved from behind the desk. “I expected to prevent you from being subjected to this. My aunt has acquired a report from a person who was near the embankment. Until I knew what she possessed, I had no intention of allowing her to use it against you.”

“The lantern is not new to me. You told me of the earlier report yourself. What has she added?”

“She claims a more particular account.”

“Claims.” Elizabeth folded the letter along its existing creases. She did not return it yet. “You do not know whether there is more, but you have begun to give her what she asks for.”

“I have begun nothing which cannot be stopped.”

She looked at the man who had let her end a kiss without a word of objection. He had arranged a journey before she knew of it. She wanted to hurt him with that knowledge. More painfully, she wanted him to understand without requiring her to make a speech of it.

“When is she expected?”

“This afternoon.”

“Then I shall hear her.” Elizabeth laid the letter on the desk. “And I shall have a copy of this, if you mean to keep the original.”

Darcy agreed. He looked at the chair she had not taken, as if he might still persuade her to sit and allow him to make the morning manageable. She left him standing beside it.

* * *