“Sanders, do I look different to you?” she asked her maid after she latched a delicate bracelet on her wrist.

“Different, Mrs. Darcy?”

“Yes. I fear I am walking strangely. What do you think?” She walked a few steps away and turned back. “Do you notice anything amiss?”

“No, madam, other than looking a bit careful, you seem the same as yesterday.”

“Careful. Hmm. Thank you, that will be all. I’ll ring when I need you.”

The maid curtsied and disappeared, leaving Elizabeth wondering what exactly a person looked like when walking carefully. Like the way Jane walked when she sprained her ankle three years ago? Surely she wasn’t limping! Or perhaps it was similar to how she walked when she fell out of a tree in Sir William’s orchard when she was fifteen and landed on her backside. But of course she hadn’t really seen herself walk then, either. She would describe the way she moved then as careful, though.

She tried to see herself in the large mirror in her dressing room, but the room was of such a size and the mirror in such a location that she couldn’t make out anything useful. She decided to move it into the bedchamber where there would be more space and wider angles. She grabbed the mirror on either side and lifted, but it would not budge. She considered calling a footman, but how would she explain what she was doing? In the end, she tilted the mirror and braced it against her hip while leaning back and pulling with all her might. She had to stop once, but she did eventually get it into the bedchamber and placed in the corner.

So settled, she walked away from the mirror, looking over her shoulder at herself the whole way. She adjusted the mirror and her direction and tried again. She didn’t look very different, just strange with her head turned round.

“What are you doing, Elizabeth?”

She jumped and her hand flew to her chest. “Fitzwilliam! Do you not make noise when you walk?”

He raised a brow and gestured toward the mirror. “Did you move that yourself?” he asked.

“I didn’t want to call a footman and it wasn’t too heavy.”

“Hmm.” He walked toward the mirror and lifted it, making another face at her when he realized its weight. She shrugged sheepishly and he shook his head at her.

“Are you finished? Shall I return it for you?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she replied, grateful to get him away from the topic of what she was doing.

He lifted the mirror easily and walked into the dressing room with it, reappearing a moment later. “Now, what exactly were you doing? Watching yourself walk? You’re not trying out some ridiculous new sashay, are you?” he asked worriedly.

She laughed. “No, of course not! I was merely observing something.”

“What were you observing?” he inquired.