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“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, laughing despite herself.

“Have you caught a pin?”

“Some thread. I was attending to my cuff.”

“A little too thoroughly.”

Mrs. Reynolds brought the scissors from her office. “I can cut you free, miss.”

She slid one blade beneath the joined threads, well clear of Elizabeth’s wrist. The cushion fell against the side of the chair. A ragged loop of cotton remained attached to the cuff.

Elizabeth put her hands in her lap.

Mr. Darcy released Sir. “I had come to ask whether the Westcotts’ servant had returned for the basket Mrs. Westcott left here.”

“He collected it after church, sir,” Mrs. Reynolds replied.

“Good. She had put her spectacles in it, and Westcott believed we might otherwise expect a second visit before night.”

“I hope he would accompany her,” Elizabeth said. “It would be unkind to oblige a lady without her spectacles to find the way alone.”

“He appeared more concerned that she should remain unable to read the account he brought home yesterday.”

“Then he must hope for some other misfortune. We cannot keep her property merely to oblige him.”

“No. I suppose not.”

Darcy was smiling. Elizabeth had not meant to detain him, but for a moment she wished she could think of another thing to say.

His gaze dropped to her damaged cuff.

“Shall I send Sally to you?”

“Thank you, but I believe I can manage what remains.”

He bowed and left, taking Sir with him. Elizabeth waited until their footsteps had passed beyond the office.

“He saw nothing,” she said.

“He saw a young lady sewn to my cushion. That was quite enough.”

Mrs. Reynolds sat down opposite her. For several moments neither spoke. Then Elizabeth began to laugh again, softly at first, until the housekeeper’s mouth twitched and she laid the scissors down.

“He will suppose I am a very poor needlewoman.”

“You may consider that an advantage, miss. He is unlikely to ask you to mend anything.”

The amusement relieved Elizabeth more than the experiment had instructed her. There had been no great discovery. She could not explain why one bit of thread moved and another remained still. Yet she had been frightened when the cushion lifted with her, and she had not been frightened when Mr. Darcy spoke.

Before she could attempt to loosen the remaining knot, voices sounded in the adjoining passage.

“I told you the cupboard must be opened before the clean linen went upstairs.”

“I know, but Mrs. Reynolds—”

“You were to bring her the list, Sally, not put it somewhere and forget it.”

Elizabeth rose. Mrs. Reynolds had already gone to the door.