Page 54 of The Servants’ Matchmaking

Darcy did not want to leave him alone with it. Bingley managed a tired, genuine smile anyway.

"Jane will worry if both of us are missing at once. Tell her I will be back shortly."

The Christian name came out without a flicker of self-consciousness this time. Bingley, Darcy was learning, had a courage of his own. Quieter than severity, and no less real for it.

Darcy went back to the ballroom.

Elizabeth was dancing with a Mr. Robinson when he came in. She saw him and finished the figure without a single misstep, though her eyes kept finding the door. Jane, for her part, had not stopped watching the east door since Bingley left. Darcy waited until the set ended.

"The shawl is safe," he told Elizabeth. "Bingley is with his sisters. He asks that Jane not be alarmed."

"She is already alarmed," Elizabeth said, with feeling.

Jane came to join them just then, and Darcy relayed Bingley's message with all the gentleness he could manage. "He will return as soon as he is able. He is not hurt."

"Thank you."

She accepted the limited account without pressing further, trusting him in a way that struck Darcy as rather remarkable, all things considered. Elizabeth did not accept it half so well.

"I want the whole truth of it, when we are able to speak properly."

"You shall have it."

"From you. Not filtered through some book marker this time."

"From me," Darcy said. "All of it."

They waited together. Bingley returned after the next dance had ended. His usual brightness was subdued, but Jane's presence at his side steadied him, colour returning to his face by degrees. Caroline did not reappear at all. Louisa sent word of a sudden headache. Hurst carried on at cards without interruption, apparently the only innocent Bingley relation in the whole affair.

Supper was announced. The interruption gave Darcy the opening he had been waiting for.

"Miss Elizabeth. Will you walk with me in the orangery? The doors to the ballroom will stay open the whole time."

She glanced at Jane, who had Bingley's arm already. They agreed to follow along within sight, and Elizabeth took Darcy's arm.

The orangery ran the length of the ballroom's south side. Candles lit the nearest end in warm gold pools. Further along, moonlight silvered the glass and turned the sleeping orange trees to soft grey shapes. Music and conversation still carried through both open doors, and the air smelled of citrus leaves and cold glass. Underneath it all, the ghost of summer the trees seemed to be keeping in reserve.

Darcy told her everything, leaving nothing out. Sarah's overheard warning. His own decision to wait. The false message, the shawl, Bingley's presence, Caroline's poor denial, the journey to Scarborough arranged for the morning. Elizabeth listened without a single interruption, her face pale in the candlelight.

"You should have told me before the ball," she said, when he had finished.

"Yes."

"Sarah feared I would stay away."

"I accepted her reasoning right up until the shawl was actually taken. That was wrong of me."

"You agreed because you wanted me there tonight."

"Yes."

The admission cost him nothing. It was simply true.

"I also believed the whole plan might come to nothing but words," he said. "I did not want to burden you with an accusation we could not yet prove. I should have let you decide for yourself whether that burden was rightfully yours to carry."

Elizabeth looked out through the glass at the dark garden beyond, where nothing moved but the faint silver shift of moonlight on wet grass. "I was angry with Sarah. I am angry with you."

"I know."