Caroline looked up from the embroidery frame that rested upon her lap, her eyes narrowing as they often did before she released one of her more venomous pronouncements. "It is quite extraordinary, Charles, how entertaining you find even the smallest occurrence."
"I generally discover life improves if one looks for the amusing parts," he replied cheerfully.
"It also prevents one from dwelling too much upon unpleasant realities."
There was something in her tone that caused Jane to glance up. Mrs Hurst, who had appeared absorbed in a novel, lowered it just enough to exchange a fleeting look with her sister.
"What realities are those?" asked Bingley lightly.
"Oh, nothing of consequence," said Caroline, selecting another skein of silk with studied artlessness. "Only the latest intelligence from Meryton. Though perhaps Miss Bennet has heard it already."
Jane looked from one sister to the other. "I do not believe I have heard any intelligence of late."
Mrs Hurst laid aside her novel with evident satisfaction. "It concerns your sister, Miss Eliza."
The slight emphasis she placed upon Elizabeth's name made Jane instinctively uneasy. She thought of Lizzy’s tearful confession after she returned from Netherfield and prayed that the story of her interaction with Mr Darcy had not spread beyond the library.
Mr Bingley, glanced quickly towards his sisters. "Louisa," he said, with a warning look, "I hope you are not about to repeat some idle nonsense from Meryton."
"Oh, Charles, you are forever accusing us of malice where none exists." Caroline set her embroidery neatly beside her chair and laughed a small hollow laugh. "Indeed, there is no need to rely upon Meryton at all. We have somebody in the house who witnessed the whole affair."
She stood and rang the bell. When a footman appeared, she asked with perfect politeness, "Would you ask Polly to step in for a moment?"
Jane frowned, horrified by the request, whilst Bingley's expression hardened. Before either could object, the little housemaid appeared upon the threshold, bobbing an uncertain curtsey.
"You wished to see me, miss?"
"Yes, Polly." Caroline's tone was all sweetness. "Mrs Hurst and I were speaking of that curious evening when you surprised Miss Elizabeth and Mr Darcy in the library. I was saying that the townspeople have embroidered the story beyond all recognition, and that nobody could give a better account than the person who was actually present."
The colour rose at once in Polly's cheeks. "I do not know as there is much to tell, miss."
"Nonsense. Pray satisfy our curiosity." Miss Bingley’s tone was sharper now.
The girl looked from one face to another, plainly wishing herself anywhere else. At last she spoke with obvious reluctance. "I only opened the library door, miss. Mr Jones and I had gone to see that the fire was safe for the night."
"And what did you find?" asked Mrs Hurst.
"Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth were there together, ma'am."
"Alone?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Jane tried for an easy smile. "My sister is forever in search of books. I daresay she had been unable to sleep."
Polly nodded eagerly. "I expect that was it, miss."
Caroline's smile did not alter in the slightest. "And Mr Darcy? Was he also searching for a novel?"
Polly hesitated. "I could not rightly say, miss."
"But he was standing close to Miss Elizabeth?"
"Well... yes, miss."
"And his hand was upon her?"
The poor girl shifted uneasily beneath the attention now fixed upon her. "Only upon her arm, miss. At least... I believe it was."
