Drat! He had been so close! So close and a moment too late. Now he would have to wait until the end of the set. Darcy would resume his post by then and unless Bingley could think of a way to distract him again, he despaired of exchanging more than a word with Miss Bennet for the rest of the evening. He needed a plan.
Contrary to his custom, Bingley backed up against the wall to ponder. He must have managed several minutes, but he grew quite restless. How did Darcy do it? Bingley could not stand still for so long, and he felt guilty contemplating in silence when he had guests to entertain.
Out of the corner of his eye, Bingley saw Caroline grin at Louisa while she clutched a key behind her fan. Both of them stood on their toes, necks stretched, feathers waving over the heads of their guests, searching for something, or more likely, someone. It could not be Darcy. He was too easy to spot in a crowd.
Too cross to ask another lady to dance and too defeated to immediately formulate another plan, Bingley joined his sisters. “What have you there?” He nodded at the key.
Caroline clutched the key tighter, hiding it in the folds of her skirt. “Nothing of any note.”
“Then why are you hiding it?”
No reply.
“Where is the key to?” Bingley pressed.
Louisa snapped, “Really, Charles, have you nothing better to do than ask stupid questions?” She did not stick her tongue out, but it was implied. Marriage had not softened Louisa. If anything, her tongue had become sharper. No wonder Hurst pretended to sleep all the time.
“You have not seen Miss Eliza recently, have you?” Caro’s tone was sweet in contrast. She batted her eyelashes, a gesture wasted on him.
“Do you have something in your eye, Caro?”
“Of course not, I was merely inquiring after Miss Eliza.” Her smile tightened, much like her voice.
Bingley’s suspicions grew. While his sisters fawned over Miss Bennet, he had not noticed any particular regard toward Miss Elizabeth from them. “Why?” he asked.
“‘Tis no matter.” Caroline fluttered her fan, the key gone.
“No reason at all,” Louisa added.
His unease grew the more they hemmed and hawed. Bingley watched the dancers weaving and spinning. He saw Miss Bennet’s white dress and pink ribbons in a cluster, but he did not see Miss Elizabeth… nor could he remember what color ribbon she wore that evening. Blue? Yellow? Green?
Come to think of it, he did not see Darcy either. Maybe she had refused to dance with him. Again. Bingley knew it was wicked of him, but the thought brought him cheer.
He could not care less about the key, but his humor had taken a devilish turn, so he asked again, “What is the key for?”
Caroline batted her eyelashes quicker, a sure sign she was up to something she did not want to admit to. “Oh, nothing.”
Knowing better than to accept her vague reply, Bingley pressed, “It is not nothing when I very clearly saw something.”
She huffed. “Only the key to your study.”
“My study?” It was not a room he used often yet, though he had great plans for it. He had ordered several volumes to be sent from Hatchards as well as a newly commissioned leather chair to complement the large mahogany desk. But that was neither here nor there. Caroline had not answered his question. He repeated, “What are you doing with the housekeeper’s key?”
Caroline scrunched her nose. “Mr. Collins already trapped me once in conversation and would have done so again had I not encouraged him to look over your books for recommendations.”
“So you sent him to my study? Why not the library?”
“You keep books in your study too.” She pouted and fiddled with her fan. What was she not telling him? A key she should not have, a room he rarely used, a gentleman she wished to avoid…
Bingley narrowed his eyes at her. “You did not lock Mr. Collins inside, did you?”
She gasped. “Of course not! I only unlocked the door so that he might enter.”
Louisa tittered behind her hand. “You can count on Mr. Collins to extol the virtues expounded upon in Fordyce’s Sermons. You will be presumed upon to secure a copy, Charles.”
Caroline chuckled. “What would Mr. Darcy say?”
Darcy would not allow his sister to play manipulative games on his guests. Neither would Bingley.
