It was too late. The door was closed. I reached for the latch, pushing and pulling and tugging to no avail.
“Mr. Darcy?!” I heard at my elbow. It was the voice of a lady I had been thinking of only moments ago.
I closed my eyes and gulped. Of all the ladies at Bingley’s ball, she was the one I would least suspect of entrapment. I exhaled deeply and turned to see her standing in front of the window, bathed in the ethereal glow of the moon. Ever the gentleman even in these circumstances, I bowed. “Miss Elizabeth.”
Having nothing else to say and feeling disagreeably unsettled, I returned my attention to the latch in another attempt to knock the lock loose. It was no use, and yet I continued trying. Perhaps a servant had heard her scream and would free us before we were missed. Before assumptions would be made.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
If Miss Elizabeth knew I sought her father, she would demand to know why, and I saw no benefit in distressing her… especially if we were to be trapped together for an indiscernible length of time. “I was looking for someone.” I pounded the lock with my fist and tugged at the door. Nothing.
“In the library?” Her brow arched and her hands propped on her hips in a stance of disbelief that ruffled my feathers. As though her presence in the library was more justified than mine.
“It is a room the person favors,” I replied.
“Who would hide in another gentleman’s library during a ball?”
Her father, for one. However, as Mr. Bennet wasnotin the library, I kept that opinion to myself. “I might well ask whatyouare doing here. As Bingley’s guest, this is my residence. You ought to be in the open rooms.”
She gestured at the offending barrier. “The doorwaswide open.” She continued, her tone clipped and resolute, “Mr.Bingley offered to allow me to borrow a book I had begun to read to Jane during her convalescence. I am here at his invitation and have as much right to be in the library at this hour as you do.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, fully focused on her in open disbelief. “You came to fetch a book? During a ball? In the dark?”
She bit her lips and avoided looking at me. There was something she did not wish to tell me. “I know where it is on the shelf.” She looked at me then, and I knew she spoke the truth, although there must have been more to it than that. As I had no interest in revealing my reason for being in the library either, I pressed no further. Besides, we had a bigger problem.
I pointed at the door. “The lock is damaged. I fear we are stuck together until someone opens the door from the other side.”
“Surely not,” she huffed, once again returning to the door to prove me wrong. She pulled the latch, shaking and tugging it with a vigor that grew with each attempt to open it. Her breath came in pants and several pieces of hair fell from their pins.
She spun around and strode up to me, eyes bright, chest heaving. “You mean that all those times I read by the window while you sat near the fire, not once did you think to warn me that the latch was broken?”
It seemed she was intent on finding me at fault, but there had been no danger then—with the advantage of an open door and the constant presence of servants seeing to their duties—and I would not assume all the blame now. “I am not the one who shut the door.”
Miss Elizabeth raised her eyes heavenward, her lips pinched together and her hands tightened into fists. Had she been a gentleman, I had no doubt that she would have uttered a few choice words.
After a few moments, she regained her restraint and shook her head. A humorless laugh escaped from her lips. “To thinkI came here to escape from one disagreeable man only to lock myself in a room with another.”
Nowthatwas an explanation I could believe. She was avoiding someone. True, she called me disagreeable, but people said many things when they were vexed. I overlooked her exaggeration. “Whom were you seeking to escape?” I asked, taking over the tug of war with the lock.
“Mr. Collins,” she said with disdain, only to utter my name in her next breath. “Mr. Darcy, I have no desire to be found here with you, just as I am certain I am the last lady in the Kingdom with whom you would wish to be found alone in a dark room.”
That was what she said, but could I trust her when she had been the one to close the door? She had trappedme. She had not done it on purpose, had she? It had all been done so convincingly, so effortlessly. I was inclined to believe it was an accident, but was it?
More importantly, how could she compare me unfavorably to Mr. Collins?
She motioned me out of the way, taking another turn at the door, rattling the latch and pounding her fist against the oak barrier until I feared she would hurt herself.
Looking about, I grabbed the candelabra sitting atop a nearby table and held it out to her. “Use this.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, and I nearly scoffed at her stubbornness. Was she so determined to think me disagreeable that she would refuse my attempt to prevent her injury? However faulty her reasoning was, I could not allow her to come to harm when I could prevent it. I shoved the candelabra closer to her. “This will make a louder sound than your fist.”
To my relief, she accepted the hefty object. “We shall take turns until we are rescued.” She hefted the item over her shoulder and swung the candelabra against the door with a resounding thwack.
Not the reaction of a young lady pleased with her conquest.
“Maybe my father will seek out the library,” she said, raising the candelabra for another bash at the door.
I groaned. If only that gentleman was easier to find, we would not be in this situation. “He will not insist on a marriage to protect your reputation?”
