Page 21
“No. That is why I wondered.”
“Mr. Darcy could never have fathered a child out of wedlock.”
Caroline spoke with a certainty Elizabeth could not have supplied in defending her own opinion. For an instant she wished to believe her. It would have been a considerable relief to dismiss the entire matter and return to disliking only his manner when he chose to command.
But Caroline had praised every feature of Pemberley, including those she had not yet seen, and every decision of its owner. Her confidence could not be separated so conveniently from her hopes.
“You have a very high opinion of him,” Elizabeth said.
“I have known him for years. You have been in his house three days.”
“An advantage in knowledge is not always an advantage in judgment.”
“Nor is ignorance proof of independence.”
Elizabeth felt the answer more sharply because she had prepared to dislike it before it was spoken.
Caroline rose. “He has been Charles’s friend through every difficulty. He has received Jane here with a generosity your family can scarcely fail to appreciate. And you would repay him by imagining such a thing?”
“His kindness to Jane would not make such conduct right.”
“If he had been guilty of it. He has not.”
“You cannot know every part of a gentleman’s life merely because you are admitted to his drawing room.”
“And you cannot discover it by delivering two gowns.”
Elizabeth looked away. Her own work lay neatly across her knees, the ribbon held in place by a pin. She had wanted Caroline to consider the possibility; instead she had been made to feel how little evidence she possessed, and had defended that evidence more warmly than she had intended.
“I have no wish to injure his reputation,” she said.
“Then you ought to take more care with it.”
“And I suppose your wish to marry him has no part in your opinion?”
The question escaped before Elizabeth could reconsider it. Caroline’s face altered, and Elizabeth knew that she had struck at something more serious than her taste in music or her pretensions to govern the household.
“My opinion of Mr. Darcy existed before I had any reason to suppose you would be interested in it,” Caroline replied. “I will not discuss my future with you.”
“Then we agree upon one subject.”
“We do not agree upon the vulgarity of inventing another person’s disgrace.”
Elizabeth stood, setting her work upon the table. “I have invented nothing. I have told you what I saw.”
“And chosen the worst explanation for it.” Caroline gathered her letter. “I suggest you refrain from offering it to Jane.”
“I had no intention of telling Jane.”
“See that you remember it.”
Caroline left before Elizabeth could answer. Her step remained perfectly composed through the doorway, which Elizabeth found almost as irritating as everything she had said.
Alone, she took up the workbag again and discovered that she had twisted the ribbon before drawing it through the ring. She pulled it out with more force than was necessary.
She had allowed dislike of the person answering her to make her more certain of the accusation. That was not an agreeable discovery. Nor did it tell her what she was to do with the doubt that remained.
To disturb Jane’s peace with an unproved suspicion would be cruel. To continue receiving his kindness as though she believed him worthy of every confidence felt scarcely more honest.
