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When the door closed, her sister’s composure failed for an instant.

“Lizzy.”

Elizabeth moved her chair nearer.

“I am here.”

“I know I must bear it. I only wish I knew how much longer.”

“So do I.”

Elizabeth offered her hand. Jane took it, and Elizabeth remained beside her while Mrs. Talbot attended to the next ordinary thing which required doing.

The light changed at the windows. Somebody brought candles, and Mama rose to help with them. Mrs. Talbot asked for fewer people near the bed. Reynolds suggested that Mrs. Bennet take tea in her own room, where Mr. Bennet was waiting to hear how Jane did.

“Elizabeth will stay,” Jane said.

“Of course she will,” Mama replied. “I shall be in my room if you need me.”

She kissed Jane and made Elizabeth promise to send for her. Elizabeth gave the promise.

They were quieter after she left.

Jane turned her hand beneath Elizabeth’s, seeking a firmer hold. Elizabeth laid her left palm against her sister’s wrist and moved her right hand to support the cup Reynolds brought.

Cold tightened across her fingers.

She nearly dropped the cup.

Reynolds caught its base. Together they steadied it until Jane had taken a little water. Then the housekeeper removed it, her eyes upon Elizabeth’s face.

Elizabeth did not answer the question in that look. Not yet. She kept her hand upon Jane’s wrist and waited to discover whether the sensation would pass.

It remained.

This was the cold she had felt upon touching Mara’s cord. It pressed along the fingers which lay against Jane and seemed to draw the warmth out of them, though the room had not changed and the fire continued to burn.

Jane’s next pain came. She closed her hand about Elizabeth’s and made a low sound which brought Mrs. Talbot nearer.

“Stay with her there,” the midwife told Elizabeth.

Elizabeth nodded.

With her right hand she reached into the workbag. The linen packet lay where she had put it yesterday. She brought it onto her lap, unfolded one corner, and separated a fresh length of thread from its companion.

The fresh thread lay limp across her palm. Elizabeth laid the small open loop against her right fingers and invited the familiar warmth into the hand which rested upon her sister.

The loop pressed inward.

She had not pulled it tight.

Elizabeth looked down at the thread. Its free end lay across her palm, precisely where she had placed it. The pressure was upon the open turn, trying to close what she held apart.

Mara had known the movement. She had not possessed the warmth.

Elizabeth drew a slow breath and returned her attention to Jane.

Her sister had opened her eyes. “You look frightened.”