Mrs. Bennet had gone very still, her hands pressed to her chest.
Lady Lucas looked ready to faint dead away from the pleasure of scandal alone.
Sir William’s face was mottled red with outrage and mortification in equal measure.
Mr. Bennet stepped forward, his voice controlled, though Elizabeth could hear the tremor beneath it.
“Remove him from my house.”
The guards obeyed.
Bingley was half led and half dragged toward the door, his protests echoing down the corridor until at last they were muffled by distance and walls.
A heavy silence fell.
The room felt suddenly too bright, too warm, too crowded with eyes that did not know where to look.
Lord Seeley exhaled slowly, then turned back to the company.
His expression had not softened, but it had cooled into something practical.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said with crisp finality, “you have witnessed an unfortunate outburst. It changes nothing of the facts, nor of the law.”
His gaze swept the room, pausing just long enough upon faces that looked eager to carry tales.
“If any among you still wish to view the objects, you may do so now and promptly. I had intended to allow a longerperiod for observation. I shall not, under the circumstances, risk prolonging this.”
He glanced toward the guards, then back to Mr. Bennet.
“It is time to secure the hoard and arrange its removal to London.”
A murmur rose—disappointed, startled, yet subdued by the obvious necessity.
People began to move again, more quickly now, fearful that their opportunity would vanish if they lingered.
The velvet-covered tables drew them once more, but the mood had changed.
The wonder remained, though it was edged with unease.
Everyone now understood what treasure could do to a man.
Elizabeth remained where she was, still clinging to Darcy’s arm. She could not seem to stop shaking.
Darcy’s hand covered hers briefly—warm and grounding. “You are safe,” he murmured.
Elizabeth swallowed hard and forced herself to turn her head toward Jane.
Jane stood with Colonel Fitzwilliam, her posture restored by sheer determination.
She looked across the room at Elizabeth, offering one small, steady glance that conveyed both apology and reassurance, as though she feared she had caused trouble merely by defending herself.
Elizabeth’s throat tightened.
Colonel Fitzwilliam bent his head toward Jane and murmured something Elizabeth could not hear.
Jane nodded once, then lifted her chin.
The company continued to file past the hoard in uneasy reverence.
