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“No, thank you.”

“You have everything you require in your room, Mrs. Bingley?” Mr. Darcy asked.

“Everything, thank you. I should like to write to my mother tomorrow. Charles has promised her a full account of our arrival.”

“There is a writing desk in your sitting room. Mrs. Reynolds will supply anything you lack.”

“You see?” Charles said to Elizabeth. “I told you we should have nothing to trouble us here.”

“You told us a great many things, Charles. I am attempting to remember which of them were promises.”

He was too pleased with his wife’s recovery to be offended. He sat upon the chair beside her and began describing a house the agent had mentioned in his last letter. Jane listened with interest, asking about the distance from Pemberley and whether there was a room near the bedchamber that might serve as a nursery.

Elizabeth listened, too. At Netherfield, discussion of another house had still seemed a plan for some distant time. Here were names of places she did not know, roads she had never traveled, and the prospect of Jane making her home among them. She had been so occupied with getting her sister comfortably through the journey that she had scarcely considered how seldom they might see each other afterward.

“We shall have to look at several,” Jane was saying. “I would rather wait than choose badly.”

“There is no necessity to hurry,” Darcy replied. “You are welcome here while you look.”

Elizabeth glanced at him. The invitation was offered without ceremony, and Jane accepted it in the same spirit. Charles began to thank his friend until Darcy interrupted him with a question about the particulars. Elizabeth drank her tea and was glad that, for this evening, nobody required her opinion.

Supper was served before the light had left the lawn. Caroline knew the way to the dining room and led them there, pausing to admire a bowl of flowers upon a side table. Mr. Darcy drew back Jane’s chair himself. When Jane declined a second helping, he passed the dish to Charles without insisting that she ought to eat.

Elizabeth watched her sister settle comfortably into conversation. It was a relief to see Jane enjoying herself after the long journey. She began to think she might enjoy the evening, too.

Toward the end of the meal, Mr. Darcy asked whether her room pleased her.

“Very much. Mrs. Reynolds has placed me exactly where I wished to be.”

“There are other rooms if you find the old windows troublesome.”

“I shall complain when they trouble me.”

“I had begun to suppose you would,” Mr. Darcy replied.

Elizabeth glanced at him. His expression remained serious, but Charles was smiling into his wine. She had provoked the observation and would only confirm Mr. Darcy’s opinion if she resented receiving an answer.

“Then I shall try to surprise you by finding nothing to complain of.”

“I should be pleased if you succeeded.”

She could not tell whether he meant to encourage her or challenge her. Caroline asked him about a family in the neighborhood before Elizabeth decided how to answer, and the conversation moved beyond her knowledge. She finished her supper listening to the names and wondering which of these people she would come to know during their visit.

Upstairs, Sally had unpacked the last of her things. Elizabeth found her slippers beneath the chair, her comb upon the washstand, and the book she had brought from home lying beside the bed. Someone had placed fresh water within reach and drawn the curtains against the dark court.

The room looked less strange with her own belongings in it. She sat to remove a pin that had troubled her through supper while Sally loosened the fastenings of her gown.

“Will you require anything else, miss?”

“Nothing, thank you. You have been very kind.”

Sally opened the door and found Lord Houndsmere stretched across the passage. The dog raised his head, saw Elizabeth, and got up before either woman had spoken.

“He has decided to visit,” Elizabeth said. “You may leave him, Sally, if he will be quiet.”

Sir investigated the chair, the slippers, and the space beside the bed. Having found no cause for complaint, he settled upon the rug.

Elizabeth took up her book. She managed two pages before discovering that she had read the same sentence three times. From across the landing came Charles’s voice, then Jane’s answering laugh. She closed the book and listened until their door shut.