Page 51 of Her Affections and Wishes

“I suppose we ought to cry out for help?” she asked when he put his watch away. “Are you ready to pretend we mean nothing to one another? However much our eyes might sparkle and our hearts bound at the presence of one another, we must pretend to care about all the rest here.”

“As glad as I am to spend the day with my favourite person, the sooner we bring everyone’s attention to the library, the better.”

Elizabeth drew in a breath to yell and rattled the handle, and, to their complete surprise, the door swung ajar. They shared a stunned look, and Darcy pushed the jib-door open all the way to see Lady Metcalfe on the other side. The metamorphic table was by the wall, and she stood with her arms akimbo and with a haughty glare.

“Miss Bennet, I am ashamed of you,” she said in a cold, bitter tone. “Completely, utterly ashamed of you. Luring a respectable man to indignity when Lady Catherine assured me you were a genteel girl.”

Elizabeth tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “What?”

Mr Travers was by one of the doors and called into the passage, “We have found them.”

“And you, Mr Darcy, how am I to look Lady Catherine in the eye?” Lady Metcalfe scowled. “To have forgotten yourself and all that you owe your family? She may be pretty enough, but she is beneath you.”

Did she think Elizabeth drew him behind the jib-door to seduce him? “Madam, someone lured us behind that door and trapped us.”

Mrs Tessier and her son rushed into the library, followed by Sir John Whitney and Julia. All but the latter appeared concerned or confused. Julia’s eyes blazed like the fires of hell.

“Mr Darcy!” Mrs Tessier cried. “We despaired of you today. We did not see you at the races. Have you been at Woodcote all this time?”

“It seems he spent his day in a more agreeable manner than wagering,” said Sir John with a laugh as he looked at the open jib-door. “Your trousers are covered in dust, my friend.”

Elizabeth rushed to explain how they heard a voice call for help and how the upper door was locked and the jib-door blocked. Darcy watched with alarm as their fellow inmates’ curious expressions shifted to disbelief.

“My dear,” stammered Mrs Tessier, “I, I think it is best to be honest at this point.”

“I am!” she cried.

“You are flushed, Miss Bennet,” said Sir John, grinning. “What could have warmed your blood that much?”

“The window,” Darcy retorted. There was nothing in her appearance alone that made her look as though anything improper happened.

Elizabeth gasped at the implication and then glared at their accusers. “You cannot think that we stayed home together, hoping to be alone, and then squeezed ourselves in there when any other sofa or bed was open to us whilst the house was empty.”

Darcy winced. She was right, of course, but her impassioned plea only brought to everyone’s mind what they might have been doing behind the door. “We were trapped,” he insisted.

“How could you have been trapped?” asked Mrs Tessier.

“Something blocked the jib-door,” Elizabeth cried.

“There was nothing in front of the door when I came in to check on Miss Bennet,” said Lady Metcalfe stiffly. “Mr Travers came in not long behind me. There was nothing blocking the way, was there?”

Mr Travers shook his head in silent agreement. Darcy glared at Julia. She must have come back first and moved the table out of the way to deflect suspicion.

“I swear we could not get out,” Elizabeth said, hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Someone lured me there calling for help whilst another blocked the door.”

“And are you blaming Mrs Tessier’s servants to detract from your reckless behaviour, for there was no one else in the house today?” Lady Metcalfe asked, her lip curling in disgust. “I am ashamed of you.”

“We were tricked!” Elizabeth cried.

“You are the one up to tricks. I promise you, Miss Bennet, such tricks only damage your own good name.”

“That is enough, madam,” Darcy said, and in a tone he little liked to use on a lady and his elder. “Miss Bennet’s reputation is above reproach, and you should think twice before impugning mine.”

Elizabeth gave him a wide-eyed stare and shook her head. She did not want him to defend her by announcing their engagement, not before she heard from her parents. But he could not stand by and let his future wife be berated, and unjustly so.

“Mary,” Lady Metcalfe said to Mrs Tessier, “you cannot allow that woman to remain under your roof. What will they think about my Julia next? The association is unendurable. I am sorry I brought her to Woodcote Park. Who knows whom else she might ensnare? Your own son is not safe.”

Darcy scoffed, unable to keep silent. That was ridiculous given the actions of her own daughter. Mrs Tessier fell onto the sofa. Henry was as pale as his expensive waistcoat, completely out of his depth, and Julia looked at Elizabeth murderously. Mr Travers had walked away as if the proceeding was tiresome.