“Oh!”
“How extraordinary!”
“Real gold?”
“Found here?”
Sir William beamed as though he had personally minted it. “Discovered upon the common,” he said proudly. “Not far from Oakham Mount where all the other searches have taken place.”
Elizabeth’s heart stuttered painfully, and she stiffened. She felt rather than noted Darcy’s gaze upon her face.
Before Sir William could continue, Mr. Bingley stepped forward, his face flushed, his genial manner nowhere to be found.
“I must protest,” he said sharply. “That land borders Netherfield. It is entirely possible—indeed, likely—that the object was found upon my property.”
A hush fell.
Sir William blinked, momentarily taken aback, but recovered quickly. “My dear Mr. Bingley, I assure you, the location was well within the common—”
“Then a proper survey should be conducted,” Bingley interrupted, his voice rising. “It is only fair to determine the true owner.”
Murmurs spread again, this time edged with discomfort.
Sir William’s smile thinned, though he retained his dignity. “The true owner,” he said firmly, “is the Crown. As the law clearly states, any gold or silver antiquity discovered must be surrendered. I have already contacted the appropriate authorities.”
The words landed like a blow on Elizabeth’s conscience.
Bingley stared at him, incredulous. “You did what?”
“I informed them of the find,” Sir William repeated calmly. “It is my duty as a loyal subject.”
“That is absurd,” Bingley burst out. “To give away something of such value without—without discussion? Without consideration of—”
“Charles,” Mr. Hurst said quietly, stepping forward.
Bingley rounded on him. “Do not patronize me—”
Hurst did not argue. He simply took Bingley firmly by the elbow, his grip unyielding but discreet. “You require some air,” he said. “Come.”
“I do not—”
But the words dissolved as Hurst steered him toward the door, murmuring something too low for others to hear. The room exhaled as they departed, tension easing but not disappearing entirely.
Sir William cleared his throat. “Well,” he said briskly, “I thought it best to be transparent. Now—shall we have music?”
Applause followed, polite but subdued, as conversation cautiously resumed.
Elizabeth realized she had been holding her breath.
Darcy leaned slightly toward her, his voice low. “Desperation,” he said quietly, his gaze fixed upon the doorway through which Bingley had exited, “has a way of driving men toward folly. I fear my friend stands perilously close to it.”
There was sorrow in his tone, unfeigned and heavy.If only he knew how near to folly my family falls.
Elizabeth glanced toward Jane, who had gone pale but remained composed, Colonel Fitzwilliam speaking gently to her now, his expression attentive and protective. Elizabeth’s chest tightened.
“And the rest of us,” she said softly, “must hope it does not carry beyond reason.” She was not speaking of Mr. Bingley any longer, but Darcy could not know that.
Darcy met her gaze. “Hope—and vigilance.”
