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E lizabeth rubbed the back of her neck and then tipped her head from side to side.

While she adored the lace that she had purchased to refashion her ball gown from how it had been at the assembly to how she wanted to present herself at Netherfield, being bent over it and making neat and tiny stitches to attach it to her dress was not her favourite thing to do.

Rain tapped against the window. It was the same tune that had kept Elizabeth company while stitching or reading for three days now.

She certainly hoped the clouds would clear tomorrow so that travelling to Mr. Bingley’s ball would be easier.

As it was, she and her sisters would need to exercise caution when entering and exiting the carriage, or their hems would be covered in mud.

The right side of her mouth tipped up into a wry smile as she looked out the window. Who would have thought that, in so short a time, she would be eager to attend a ball just so she could dance with Mr. Darcy?

As her father would say, love did strange things to otherwise sensible minds.

“We should maybe build an ark,” Mary said, breaking into Elizabeth’s thoughts and causing her to laugh.

“I fear you may be correct. If the weather continues as it has been for many more days, I will help you build it, but for now, I think, or at least, I hope, we will not be washed away completely. How is your dress coming along?”

“I finished it.” Mary held up the upper portion to show Elizabeth. There was a delicate piece of lace stitched into the bodice where she would normally tuck a fichu.

“Do you think it will draw too much attention?” she asked.

“I mean, it is not really so different from how I usually wear things, but it is attached, and therefore, seems to be placed just for effect.” She pulled her lower lip between her teeth while the expression in her eyes begged for reassurance.

“I think it looks lovely,” Jane said. “And you will not have to worry about it shifting when you dance.”

“I do not know why you insist on covering yourself up as you do,” Lydia inserted. “I get so warm when dancing. I am sure I would need a cup of punch after every set if I dressed as you do.”

Mary’s dress had longer sleeves than most ball gowns. That was how she preferred them, and her decolletage was always covered. Always. Her collarbones were as much as she would allow to be revealed by a neckline on any dress unless, of course, she was only in company with her sisters.

“I just do not like being looked at that way,” Mary muttered.

“You should get used to it, for it is the only way to get a husband,” Lydia said. “You must make yourself desirable.”

“And baring one’s body is the only way to do that?” Mary returned.

“Not the whole thing!” Lydia cried. “Just a hint here and there.”

Mary scowled and shook her head. “I would rather be desired for myself and not my looks. That is the best I can hope for at any rate, since I am the least pretty among us.”

“I do not see you that way,” Kitty said.

“You do not?” Lydia’s question was suffused with disbelief. “She is not so lovely as Jane.”

Elizabeth was surprised that there was not an “or me” added to the statement. Lydia was not backwards in putting herself forward in any area where she thought she excelled.

Kitty seemed to be undaunted by her younger sister’s comments, and after a moment of looking through her basket of trims, held up four ribbons. “Which is prettiest?”

“Oh, the red one!” Lydia answered to nobody’s astonishment, for they all knew that red was one of her favourite colours. And it suited her – not just because it complimented her colouring, but also because it was bold, just as she was.

“I think the green one is prettiest,” Jane said.

Jane’s preference for green also made sense, since it was a happy colour that promised good things and pleasant summer days ahead when it first appeared each spring.

It was also a colour that did not run and hide completely when the depths of winter with its dark shadows appeared.

It was bright and full of promise as well as sturdy and strong.

Again, that seemed fitting to Jane’s personality.

“I like the purple.” It was regal and enchanting. Elizabeth was not sure what that said about her.

“And I prefer the blue,” Kitty said with a shrug. “They are all pretty, and yet, not one of them is preferred by all of us. And if I were to wear the red ribbon with the wrong dress, it would not look as pretty as it does with the right dress. It is the same with people.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together to close her mouth, which had dropped open the tiniest bit at Kitty’s words. She had not thought that her second youngest sister possessed such deep thoughts.

“I have been thinking,” Kitty whispered, “that I would love to be as tall and dignified as Miss Darcy. She carries herself as I imagine a princess might. I know; it is silly.”

“It is not silly,” Jane said. “She is very graceful.”

“And she seems quite well accomplished,” Mary said with a sigh. “I am sure she plays the piano much better than I do, and I was hoping to play the piece I have been practising at the ball.” She shook her head. “Now, I will not, for I am sure I would look like quite the fool if I did.”

“Is it only Miss Darcy who you fear looking bad in front of?” Lydia teased.

Mary’s cheeks grew rosy. “Perhaps not, but I am nearly certain she is the only one who could outshine me on the piano.” Mary was technically good when it came to playing. Rarely did she hit a wrong note, but she managed to infuse emotion into a piece even less often.

“Perhaps Miss Bingley could,” Lydia replied. “Do you fear looking unaccomplished in front of her? She is not a new addition to our acquaintances, so I dare say you do not. Therefore, I think the real reason you will not perform is because of the colonel.”

Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had accompanied Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley when they had called the day after Aunt Philips’s dinner party.

Mr. Darcy had not attended that party, choosing, instead, to spend a quiet evening at home with his relations.

Therefore, the day after the party had been when he had introduced his sister and cousin to them.

Had the party been a day later, he had assured Elizabeth that he would have attended, and she had assured him that he was missed but that she could not fault him for not wishing to spend an evening with Mr. Wickham and Mr. Collins – especially when one of the two had caused damage to his sister’s heart.

Of course, she had not said that last part out loud.

“Admit it!” Lydia taunted while wearing an excessively large grin. “You like the colonel.”

If ever a sister loved to torment another sister, it was Lydia, and the sister she seemed to love to poke and prod at was Mary.

“Why should I not like him?” Mary protested. “He is…” She paused for just a moment to select the correct words. “He is so sure of himself.”

He was that.

While he was not so tall and handsome as his cousin, his carriage made up for the small shortfall, for he carried himself as someone who demanded to be admired and given respect.

That, of course, was no more than should be expected.

After all, he was a colonel and the son of an earl, and truth be told, it was not all that much different from how Mr. Darcy carried himself, though the colonel did seem to be more at ease with his position, and that comfort flowed from him in pleasant and easy conversation.

“It is not that you should not like him,” Lydia retorted. “It is that you never like anyone.”

“Or maybe it is just that she never reveals that she likes anyone,” Kitty amended before Mary could respond. “It is not wrong to be guarded, and I think that Miss Darcy would be circumspect about such a thing.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Miss Darcy is just a young lady like you.”

She wanted her sisters to be friends with Miss Darcy and perhaps learn some refinement from her, but she did not want them to lift Miss Darcy to some level in their thinking that would surely end with everyone being disappointed and likely hurt if a misstep should happen.

“No, she is not!” Kitty cried. “She has been to school and has Mrs. Annesley to teach her. Add to that the fact that she dines and resides regularly with a countess, and I do not see how you can say she is anything like me.”

“I wonder what she will wear to the ball?” Lydia said.

“It is too bad that she will not be allowed to dance much. Although, and I know I should not say it, but, if she were allowed to dance, I might not have as many partners. She is at least as pretty as me and quite wealthy. That being said, she could be as freckled as Miss King and still command an audience because of her wealth alone.”

Leave it to Lydia to be the first to calculate the competition a new arrival posed to gaining dance partners. She was their mother’s daughter, through and through.

“But if you take away the fine dresses and enormous dowry, you are left with a young lady who wants to find friendship and love just like we do,” Jane inserted. “One must not compare oneself to others when calculating one’s worth. Your true value comes from within, not without.”

Lydia snorted. “Tell that to Mama. I am sure if we had thirty thousand as a dowry, we would be sought after more than we already are.” She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “That is why I must use what I have to catch a husband. And Mary should, too.”

Jane, who was sitting nearest to Lydia, put down her work and grasped Lydia’s hands.

“What you have, my dear sister, is a precious heart that should not be given away to just anyone who is tempted by your physical beauty. You are as valuable as any lady with a fortune to their name. I have always thought it true of all of us and have always held myself to such a standard. In fact, I would not allow Mr. Bingley to call on me now if I did not fully love him and know that he returns my affection. It would not matter to me that he is wealthy. I swear it.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “I dare say it was not your heart that captured his attention at the assembly. We all know it was your beauty that snared him, and your heart merely keeps him.”

“I am not sure I agree,” Elizabeth inserted, “for I do not think that Jane would be as captivatingly beautiful as she is if her heart were less good. You can see her kindness in her smile and eyes. I am certain that she could have been wearing any old day dress and still been the most gorgeous creature in attendance.”

“Lizzy, really!” Jane cried.

“It is true,” Kitty said. “Your beauty cannot be hidden.”

“And mine needs all the help it can get,” Mary muttered as she studied her gown. “So, I guess that means a bit of lace in a place that seems to be drawing attention is needed.” Her nose scrunched up before she huffed. “How do I attach some lace to my personality?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Your personality does not need lace to make it attractive. However, perhaps the edges and corners could use a touch of softening now and then. But I adore how strongly you hold to your beliefs. I dare say I have never seen you waver.” And that likely explained why the colonel had caught Mary’s eye.

He was the embodiment of confidence and decision.

“Does that mean that I am not without hope?” Mary asked.

“No, you are not.”

It seemed, perhaps, that the colonel had done more than captured Mary’s eye.

Maybe she should mention it to Mr. Darcy and discover if there was any hope of Mary’s affections being returned.

Not that Elizabeth ever wanted it to happen, but Jane, Lydia, Kitty – they could weather a disappointment.

Mary, for all her blustering and sermonizing, might not be able to come through such a thing as well as her sisters would.

It would likely cement forever in Mary’s mind that compared to her sisters, she was truly the least worthy of love.

“I can say nice things about you to the colonel when he dances with me.” Lydia’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“No! I do not want to be pushed at any gentleman.” Mary’s glare was dangerously serious. However, they all knew that the effect would be lost on Lydia, for that girl often laughed in the face of danger.

“Well then, my dear sister, you should have been born to a different mother,” Jane said, causing them all to laugh.