"It is the only answer I can give you."
They sat in silence for a moment, the distant strains of music filtering through the walls. Elizabeth knew she should leave, should return to the assembly before her absence was noted. But something kept her rooted to the spot—the vulnerability in his expression, the genuine confusion and distress.
"I am sorry," she said at last. "For what you have lost. For what you are going through."
"Are you?" He turned to her, his gaze searching. "Or are you merely being polite?"
"I am sorry," Elizabeth repeated in a firm tone. "No one deserves such an ordeal."
His shoulders sagged, some of the tension leaving his frame. "Thank you. That is... it helps, somehow. Knowing that someone—"
He broke off again, his breath hitching. Elizabeth realised with alarm that he was on the verge of losing his composure entirely. Without thinking, she reached out and placed her hand on his back, a gesture of comfort and support.
"You will endure this," she said softly. "You are stronger than you know."
He leaned into her touch, just slightly, and Elizabeth felt something shift between them—an intimacy that should not exist between strangers, yet somehow did.
"How do you know?" he whispered. "How can you be so certain?"
"Because—"
"Good heavens! What is the meaning of this?"
Elizabeth jerked away from Mr Darcy as though burned. Mrs Long stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with scandalous delight. Of course it had to be Mrs Long who came upon them. After her mother, Mrs Long was the worst gossip in all of Meryton. The sort to make a mountain out of a molehill.
She also loved nothing more than being the one who uncovered a scandal. Of course, she’d relish in her discovery.
Behind her, drawn by the commotion, were several other guests.
Mrs Long pressed a hand to her ample bosom. "Alone with a gentleman! Unchaperoned! And touching him! This is most improper!"
"We were merely speaking—" Elizabeth began, but the woman was already in full cry.
"Merely speaking! With your hand upon his person! In a darkened room, away from proper society!” With each word, Mrs Long seemed to grow more determined. “Mr Darcy, as a gentleman, you know what must be done to preserve the poor girl's reputation!"
Chapter Eleven
"There is no need for such hysteria! Nothing improper occurred." Elizabeth's voice emerged rather more forcefully than she intended, echoing off the walls of the small sitting room.
But Mrs Long was not to be deterred. She had the scent of scandal—or better yet, a brilliant match—and she seized upon it with all the tenacity of a hound on a fox's trail.
"You may be innocent of intent, but Society does not judge by intent. It judges by appearance, and the appearance here is quite clear."
Elizabeth could feel her cheeks burning with mortification. How had a simple gesture of comfort been so thoroughly misconstrued? "Mr Darcy was troubled. I was offering some consolation, nothing more—"
"Yes, yes, of course. The sort of comfort a lady offers to a distressed gentleman. But these things must be addressed properly. Your reputation must be protected!"
"Perhaps," Mr Darcy spoke up, his tone measured despite the pallor of his countenance and the tension visible in his shoulders, "I might speak with Mr Bingley privately for a moment? To discuss the best course of action?"
Mr Bingley, who had been hovering in the doorway with an expression of confusion, nodded in agreement. His usual cheerfulness had fled entirely, replaced by obvious concern for both his friend and his guest. "Yes, of course. My study is just down the hall. We can speak there without interruption."
Elizabeth watched as the two gentlemen retreated from the room, Mr Darcy's posture rigid and Mr Bingley casting apologetic glances over his shoulder. She felt a desperate urge to call them back, to insist that this entire situation was absurd and should be dismissed immediately. But the words stuck in her throat, held back by the growing circle of faces around her—some curious, some delighted, all waiting to see how this drama would unfold.
The moment they departed, Mrs Long pulled her to the side with a conspiratorial smile that made her stomach sink. The older woman moved closer, lowering her voice in a discreet whisper. She actually winked. "You have nabbed the best match of the year! One of the most eligible bachelors in England, and that beautiful estate in Derbyshire! Why, you shall be mistress of such an establishment that most girls only dream of!"
She stared at Mrs Long in disbelief, her hands clenching at her sides. "I have not 'nabbed' anyone. This is a misunderstanding of the most absurd kind—"
"Elizabeth!" Her mother's voice preceded her arrival by several seconds, and Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly, bracing herself for what was to come. Mrs Bennet burst into the room with the rest of the family close behind—Jane, her expression mirroring gentle concern; Lydia and Kitty, their faces bright with excitement; Mary, looking disapproving; and finally Mr Bennet, who looked far more worried than she’d ever seen him. "We've just heard the most extraordinary news regarding you and Mr Darcy!”
