Page 22 of The Servants’ Matchmaking

"Good manners usually travel well."

Caroline turned to her, and her smile arranged itself by careful stages. "Not always. I do hope yesterday's adventure has not unsettled you."

"The rain was cold."

"I meant the appearance of it. A young woman alone with a gentleman in a secluded building invites interpretation."

Sarah went still beside the sleeve she had mended, needle poised, not breathing.

Elizabeth placed her book on the table with a small, deliberate click. "We were in an open pavilion after the path flooded. Your brother, Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Darcy's valet, Sarah, and you found us there. Which part requires interpretation, exactly?"

"The duration, perhaps."

"You watched us leave the terrace. You watched the storm begin. You came with the others. You know the duration better than any gossip in Meryton could invent."

Caroline's lips thinned to a hard line. "I speak only from concern."

"Then your concern may rest easy."

Jane reached for her tea. The cup rattled once against its saucer, a small, betraying sound, and Elizabeth regretted letting the exchange sharpen in her sister's sickroom.

Caroline saw the movement. Her face assumed sympathy the way a person puts on a coat, quickly, and only because the weather demanded it. "Dear Jane, we must not tire you. I shall ask Charles to keep his visits shorter."

"That will not be necessary," Jane said.

It was the firmest sentence she had spoken all morning, and it landed like a small closed door.

Caroline rose. "As you wish."

She left, skirts whispering against the doorframe. Sarah crossed to close the door behind her, then stopped with her hand still upon it. Darcy stood in the corridor. He had heard enough. Elizabeth saw it in the particular stillness of his face, the way a man goes quiet when he has decided something.

"Miss Bingley," he called.

Caroline turned at the end of the passage.

"A word, if you please."

"Certainly, Mr. Darcy."

He glanced into the room. "Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth. Forgive the disturbance."

Then he followed Caroline downstairs, his footsteps unhurried and final. One sentence carried back up the stairwell before a distant door closed.

"You will not make Miss Elizabeth's reputation a subject for speculation again."

Elizabeth went to the door but did not step into the corridor. She had overheard him once already and profited far too much from it. She would not make a habit of listening at doors, however much the habit tempted her.

Sarah had fewer scruples. "I will fetch more hot water."

"You will remain here."

"Yes, miss." Sarah sat back down with the air of someone who had tried.

Jane waited until both women were seated. "You wanted to hear."

"Wanting is not permission."

"That is very correct of you."