Page 79 of The Servants’ Matchmaking

"We found your list," Elizabeth said, gentler now. "We want the whole account, honestly told. You are not being dismissed — either of you. You may decline to discuss anything private that is not ours to hear."

Sarah let out a small breath of relief. McKeever remained carefully cautious.

They began with the Cowper book, the markers, the terrace at Netherfield. Each admission confirmed what Elizabeth and Darcy had already half-suspected: a dry path truthfully reported, a book recommendation honestly given, a storm that neither of them had planned or wished for. McKeever attributed every scheme, without hesitation, to Sarah. Sarah attributed every scheme, with equal conviction, to McKeever. Darcy found the mutual accusation unconvincing and let it stand anyway. Pursuing it further seemed far too much trouble for far too little gain.

Sarah looked miserable when Elizabeth brought up the refused proposal in Netherfield's morning room. Darcy called the refusal necessary, in a voice that allowed no argument, and forbade any apology at all for its result. Elizabeth glanced sideways at him.

He meant every word of it.

"The blue shawl in the entrance hall," Elizabeth said. "Explain that one properly."

"Mrs. Bennet had been criticising Netherfield throughout the visit, until she saw the repair on the shawl," Sarah said. "Mr. McKeever thought Mr. Darcy should hear her praise a servant's work with his own ears. I thought you should hear Mr. Darcy give me the credit without claiming any for himself."

Darcy stared at McKeever. "You deliberately brought the shawl down."

"Only for Mrs. Bennet to inspect, sir."

"A critical distinction, I am sure."

"Yes, sir."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together hard, fighting a losing battle.

"And the music, for Georgiana?"

Sarah straightened in her chair. "Miss Darcy was frightened half to death of the pianoforte, sir. Matchmaking had nothing to do with that part."

A small pause.

"Very little to do with it," she amended. "We chose a duet that required Miss Elizabeth to sit close enough to turn a page for her."

"I turned the pages," Darcy said, with wounded pride.

"Badly, sir."

Elizabeth lost the battle and laughed until her eyes watered. Darcy held out for several long seconds, his jaw tight, his composure fighting for its life. Then he gave up and joined her.

Sarah and McKeever sat very still through all of it. Their employers' amusement, however genuine, did not yet mean safety, and both of them knew it.

Elizabeth's face turned serious again. "Your warning at the ball protected me, Sarah. It protected Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley just as much. We are grateful for it — truly."

"I should have told you before the ball itself," Sarah said.

"Yes."

"I will not make that choice again."

"Good."

Darcy turned to McKeever. "You ought to have refused her request to delay telling us."

"Yes, sir."

"You ought also to have informed Bingley's housekeeper before you brought another house's private business to me."

"Yes, sir."

"You did prevent a serious wrong from happening."