At eleven o'clock, she heard the footfalls she had come to know so well.
She watched him pass silently down the corridor and enter his room. She did not hear the turn of a key. The door remained unlocked.
She removed the heavy cloak she was wearing and draped it over a nearby sofa. Then she untied the ribbon that secured the transparent wrap at her waist. She shoved the ribbon into the pocket of the flimsy garment and crept into the hall.
Standing outside his door, she listened. There was no sound. He must already be in bed.
Had he chosen to spend the night with his wife, all of this would have been for naught. But this morning, she had looked into his room before the maids cleaned it.
He had slept in his own bed the previous night.
He would sleep in it again, for had not that perfect little wife of his gone to bed at nine? She would be sound asleep and never know what her husband was about on the other side of the connecting door.
Or perhaps she would hear them and come to investigate, only to find him with his Enamorata.
Caroline almost laughed aloud before catching herself.
She opened the door with great care and slipped into the room.
It was dark. The drapes were tightly drawn, and there was not even a fire banked in the hearth.
She stretched out a hand in the darkness, hoping not to collide with one of the bedposts.
Instead, she struck her leg against something hard and shrieked in pain.
Down she went.
Her shoulder crashed against a wooden rail, and her knee landed on something soft.
A startled cry rang out.
She had kneed a man.
Mr. Darcy?
But what was he doing sleeping on a cot?
She struggled to rise, but her shoulder pained her, and she remained sprawled atop the unfortunate occupant.
Meanwhile, the man beneath her was attempting to sit up, shouting the entire time.
Next door, Darcy bolted upright in bed.
"Elizabeth, remain here. Something has happened to Reeves."
He grabbed his robe from the chair and shrugged into it as he jumped out of bed.
Elizabeth seized her own wrapper and had it on by the time Darcy lit the bedside candle and opened the connecting door.
Holding the candle aloft, he found a tangle of arms and legs upon the small cot set up just inside the room.
"Reeves, are you injured?"
Then Elizabeth saw what had injured the faithful servant.
Miss Bingley lay sprawled atop him, naked as the day she was born. Her bare skin gleamed in the candlelight.
Elizabeth immediately took her husband by the arm and swung him around.
