“You seem distracted,” he observed after a moment. “Forgive me for saying so.”
Elizabeth sighed, folding her hands before her. “It has been a most peculiar day. There was some household excitement this afternoon. My youngest sister, Lydia, is notably absent this evening as a result.”
Darcy raised a brow. “Indeed? I hope she is not unwell.”
“No, only confined to her room. My mother discovered that all her best beeswax candles had vanished, and, oddly enough, every pair of her gloves is now missing one. Lydia is suspected of the mischief, though she insists she is innocent.”
“And do you believe her?” Darcy asked, his brow creasing slightly.
“I do.” Elizabeth met his gaze steadily. “Lydia is often a nuisance and has made her fair share of mischief, but she was sincerely distressed. She came to me in tears, and while she may lack restraint, I have never known her to weep over a prank gone wrong.”
Darcy nodded slowly. “Even so, consequences are necessary. If one is habitually careless, others will naturally assume guilt.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “Just as in the tale of the boy who cried wolf, yes. I even told Lydia as much. But I could not help noticing that she was truly wounded by being disbelieved. And something about the entire affair feels odd.”
“How so?”
“I encountered two of the maids earlier in the day. They were whispering in the hallway and looked quite distressed. When I questioned them, they insisted nothing was wrong and ran off in opposite directions.”
Darcy's expression sharpened slightly. “You believe they may know something?”
“I am not certain,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I find it strange. If Lydia did not take the items—and I believe she did not—then who did?”
Darcy studied her for a long moment. “Then we must return to the question:Who is the culprit?”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “Indeed. I am beginning to wonder if the answer lies not with my sisters, but with someone else entirely. The servants seem agitated. I daresay something is amiss below stairs.”
Darcy glanced around the room briefly, then returned his attention to her. “May I offer my assistance in resolving the matter? If only to ensure the Bennethousehold is restored to peace—and to prevent any more innocent parties from being unfairly blamed.”
Elizabeth looked at him, surprised, and then inclined her head. “I believe I should like that very much, Mr. Darcy.”
A spark of something—interest, challenge, perhaps admiration—passed between them. The music began to swell once more, and the question of gloves and candles hung between them, unanswered but put aside for the evening.
Chapter Four
October 30, 1811
Netherfield Park
Darcy
“Whatanexcessivelydullway to spend an evening! Louisa and I were just discussing last night’s event. We have agreed there was no refinement or elegance. The company was insipid, and the refreshments nothing to remember. What say you, Mr. Darcy? Were you as dreadfully bored as I?”
Darcy groaned internally. It was far too early to deal with the sisters’ complaints. He chose his words carefully, concerned about giving Miss Bingley the false belief of his agreement with her views. “Country society is by its nature very different from what we encounter in Town. I saw nothing of which to complain.”
Miss Bingley’s tittering laugh grated on his nerves. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, you are too magnanimous! I am certain you would not find any such uncouth behavior at gatherings near Pemberley. Your great estate lends it elegance to every function or soiree within fifty miles! These trite events my brother insists we attend are surely nothing at all compared to what we might find in the North.”
Darcy said nothing more, but merely sipped his tea. A few months ago, he might have shared her perspective, but no longer. Richard had laid out his cousin’s faults without mercy, and Darcy could see clearly now. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Mrs. Hurst rising and leaving the room. There was a rustle of skirts, and Miss Bingley sat beside him.
“We are alone now, sir, and you need not keep your true feelings to yourself any longer. Tell me, were you as appalled by last night’s festivities as I?” Her hand slid onto his sleeve, and it took every gentlemanly bit of restraint within him not to pull away. “Why,” she continued, “Louisa and I spent the entire evening in tedious company. How did you fare? Our separation soon after our arrival is to be lamented, of course. I am only sorry you were left to fend for yourself among the heathens. It would be insupportable to spend many an evening in such a manner. You agree, do you not?”
“I assure you, madam, that I was more than agreeably engaged last night.” Darcy took another sip of tea.
“Oh?” Miss Bingley sidled closer. “Pray, tell me what occupied you so thoroughly?” He turned to look at her and she batted her eyes.
Suddenly feeling vexed at her proximity, Darcy said the first thing that came to mind. “I spent much of my time in contemplation of how delightful a pair of fine eyes are in the face of a pretty woman.”
She preened. “And who, may I ask, inspired such delightful ruminations?” Clearly, she thought he meant her. Darcy would abuse her of her fantasies.
