Page 18 of The Servants’ Matchmaking

"Certainly."

"And if Miss Elizabeth asks about today, you will answer only what she has a right to know."

"Which part would that be, sir?"

Darcy had no ready answer for him. It depended upon what Elizabeth actually asked, and upon whether she would consider his valet's interest in her welfare a kindness or an intrusion.

"The truth," he said at last. "No more than that."

McKeever inclined his head, something almost like satisfaction in it. "That was our rule already, sir."

Darcy nearly laughed. The impulse arrived strange and unfamiliar after the morning room, like a muscle he had forgotten he had.

At dinner, Elizabeth remained upstairs with Jane. Her absence somehow occupied more space at the table than her presence ever had. Caroline discussed the storm at considerable, unnecessary length. She began with the damage to the kitchen garden, progressed through the inconvenience of damp carpets in the east hall, and arrived at the pavilion with the satisfied air of a traveller finally reaching her intended destination after a long and winding journey.

"It was fortunate that Charles saw them," she said to Mrs. Hurst, not troubling to lower her voice. "A longer absence might have produced unfortunate conclusions."

Bingley put down his glass with a sharp little click. "What conclusions?"

Caroline smiled thinly. "None among friends, naturally."

"Then do not suggest them."

Hurst stopped chewing mid-bite. Louisa stared at her brother as though he had sprouted a second head. Bingley was almost never sharp. When he was, the effect rather exceeded Darcy's own habitual severity, because it happened so rarely.

"Charles, I meant only to protect Miss Eliza," Caroline said, colour rising.

"You protect her best by repeating the truth. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth were caught by weather on a path every person in this drawing room watched them take. We found them in an open shelter, in full view of the terrace. That is the whole account, and it is not a very interesting one."

"Naturally."

"You will give that account to anyone who asks. Word for word."

Caroline's colour rose further still. "Nobody will ask me."

"Excellent. Then the matter's finished, and we need not speak of it again."

Darcy had, he realised, underestimated his friend. The admission joined several others he had made that week, and the pile was getting embarrassingly large.

After dinner, Bingley followed Darcy into the library, closing the door behind them with unusual care.

"You asked her."

Darcy opened the door again. He no longer trusted closed doors in that particular house, not after everything. "I offered marriage."

"And she refused."

"Does everyone know?"

"Only a man who has just watched you fail to hear a single word spoken over two entire courses."

Darcy went to the fire and stood with both hands braced on the mantel, staring into it as though the flames might offer some useful counsel. Her answer still occupied the silence she had left behind her, filling it up. "She believed I acted from duty."

"Did you?"

"In part. I also wanted her — badly — but I did not say it well. I hardly said it at all."

"Then she was correct about the part you actually gave her. Wanting her in silence could hardly have assisted matters, could it."