Bingley blinked. “Certain of what, Caroline?”
“Miss Eliza.” She did not bother to lower her voice. “I saw her again earlier today. On Bond Street.”
Darcy’s hand tightened on the arm of his chair.
“You did?” Bingley asked mildly. “And?”
“She was not alone.” Miss Bingley smiled in a way Darcy had come to recognize as dangerous. “She was with a woman—fashionably dressed, diamonds worn as if they were birthright rather than adornment. I would stake my reputation on it being Lady Hertford.” She smiled coyly, a touch of malice in her gaze.
Mrs. Hurst nodded. “I recognized her at once.”
Darcy swallowed.
“That is a bold assertion,” Bingley said carefully. “Lady Hertford is not a woman one mistakes.”
“Exactly,” Miss Bingley replied. “Which makes the association all the more interesting.”
“And what do you suppose it means?” Bingley asked.
Miss Bingley leaned forward. “What else could it mean? Such women do not take country girls under their wing without purpose. She is being groomed, Charles. I would wager anything upon it.”
Darcy stood abruptly. “That is enough.”
Miss Bingley turned, startled. “I beg your pardon?”
“You speak without evidence,” Darcy said coldly. “And with a recklessness that would do you no credit if overheard.”
Mrs. Hurst frowned. “We are among friends.”
“That may be so,” Darcy replied, “but we are in a house where discretion is presumed.”
Bingley raised a hand. “Caroline, be careful. Lady Hertford is…untouchable. Anyone connected to her enjoys the same protection. Even a whisper would rebound most unpleasantly.”
Miss Bingley laughed lightly. “Oh, I would never whisper. But Isawher. And she was not alone—“
She stopped herself.
Bingley tilted his head. “Not alone with Lady Hertford, you mean?”
Miss Bingley smiled tightly. “It hardly matters.”
It mattered very much.
Darcy’s suspicion sharpened. A third lady. Miss Bennet, almost certainly. And Caroline, for all her malice, was not foolish enough to say so aloud—not to her brother.
He resolved then and there that Bingley would hear the truth—but only once Darcy had confirmed it himself.
“I believe I shall take my leave,” Darcy said shortly. “I have business to attend to.”
Miss Bingley’s eyes followed him. “So soon?”
“Yes.”
She rose. “Perhaps you might stay a moment longer. I was hoping to speak with you.”
Darcy inclined his head stiffly. “Another time.”
Her disappointment was unmistakable.
