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04 | four.

MY CUP OF SOOTHING POISON

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MY CUP OF SOOTHING POISON.

As evening descended, painting the sky with the first hints of twilight, Elodie and Elizabeth found themselves once again in the drawing room at Netherfield.

    It was a space that Elodie imagined the Bingleys favored throughout the day, likely passing the hours in leisurely pursuits such as card games or conversation.

Though the sisters had missed supper, neither felt the slightest bit hungry.

The room was already occupied when they entered. Mr. Bingley and his sister Caroline were seated comfortably on a plush, velvet couch, the very picture of indulgent ease.

Nearby, Mr. Darcy sat at his desk, a quill in hand as he concentrated fiercely on his writing, his brooding dark eyes fixed on the parchment as if it were prey.

Every time Elodie stepped into a room at Netherfield—indeed, any room—she had to remind herself to keep her jaw from dropping to the floor, lest her amazement be too evident.

The manor was stunning, far more so than any place she had visited before. It easily outshone Longbourn, though it wasn't much of a prize for comparison anyway.

No, Longbourn's ivy-choked walls and sagging fences could hardly compare to the tall stained-glass windows and lush gardens that adorned Netherfield.

"Is Jane well?" Charles Bingley's warm voice broke through Elodie's reverie, drawing her gaze to his familiar, joyful smile as he greeted them.

    Elodie pondered the question a moment while Mr. Darcy fiddled with his quill, his ears perked and listening.

    If she told Charles the truth, her mother would be positively infuriated with her for Jane was recovering quite well and was almost ready to leave. But this was a detail best kept under wraps for now.

"She hasn't improved much from the last few times you saw her. Other than that I don't have anything else worth noting regarding her health."

    Elizabeth nodded her head, satisfied with her sister's answer. There, now they won't be scolded too harshly by their mother.

"A shame she was caught up in such weather." Caroline Bingley interjected, her voice light but edged with a sharpness that was impossible to miss.

    She gestured for the sisters to sit across from her.

Elodie exchanged a glance with Elizabeth, biting down on her bottom lip to suppress a retort. Elizabeth coughed lightly, struggling to contain the giggle that rose in her throat at her sister's obvious irritation.

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