Page 9

After a while, she admitted she needed some diversion, and nothing could be better than a book for that purpose. She threw her robe over her nightgown, glancing at her image in the mirror as she did so. With her hair loose and so improperly attired, she was certainly not fit to be seen outside her chamber, but she would be away only a few minutes. Besides, the entire house was still and silent, so who would see her?

She tiptoed down the stairs, glancing about to assure herself of her solitude, and into the library, closing the door softly behind her. The fire was still burning, so she could distinguish the desk, the armchairs, and the sofa positioned in front of the window, its back to the door. She made her way carefully towards the desk, searching for candles she could light to better see the shelves and make a selection.

“Miss Bennet?”

Elizabeth would have cried out if the fright had not taken her breath away. She turned abruptly, her feet slipped, and she grasped the edge of the desk for support.

A figure rose from the couch, dark and silent as it moved towards her.

“Mr Darcy! I did not expect to find you here…or anyone… I was just searching for a book. I apologise. I shall leave now.”

Only then did she notice he had taken his coat and waistcoat off, revealing his shirt, its sleeves rolled up and open at the neck. Her first thought was whether he was not cold in that thin piece of fabric.

“I apologise for startling you… I was reading, too, before sleep… What book would you like? I could find it for you…”

He looked as distressed as she was. His eyes lowered to her scantily-clad form for a brief moment, long enough to turn her embarrassment into the deepest mortification; he was the last man in the world she wished to see her so improperly attired.

“Something by Shakespeare would be perfect,” she whispered. “Or anything that you may find.”

He hastened towards the shelves, and even in the relative darkness he seemed to know where to look. He stretched his hand up, grabbing a book, and Elizabeth stared at his back, his legs, his shoulders… She had never seen a man wearing so few clothes, and she certainly had not planned for Mr Darcy to be the first. Chills made her quiver, while increasing embarrassment made her cheeks burn.

She looked away as he returned and handed her the book. She took it without even noticing the title, and in doing so, their fingers brushed momentarily. She quivered again.

“Thank you… I shall leave now.”

“May I help you with anything else?” he asked.

“No…I shall leave now,” she repeated, stepping away with heavy feet.

Before she had time to reach it, the door opened widely, and a shocked voice broke the silence.

“What on earth is happening here?”

Lit by the candle he was holding, Lord Dunnroy’s dumbstruck countenance revealed utter perplexity and profound dismay.

“Darcy? Miss Bennet? What is happening here?” he repeated, his voice more severe and harsher with every word.

Elizabeth prayed a hole in the floor would open, and she could instantly disappear; instead, she remained still, her feet betraying her, the sudden lump in her throat obstructing her voice, trapped between Mr Darcy and the viscount’s stares.

Four

“What do you mean ‘what is happening?’” Mr Darcy retorted irritably. “I was reading in the library and Miss Bennet came to search for a book because she could not sleep. Here it is — Shakespeare. What on earth did you assume was happening?” he ended, arching his eyebrow in challenge.

“I did not assume anything,” the viscount replied. “I was just…I came to pour myself a drink, and here you were — both of you, in the middle of the night. One might assume anything, and all those assumptions would be improper.”

Elizabeth could not gather herself enough to soothe her turmoil and to form a reasonable, intelligible answer, but Mr Darcy spoke further. “If I were not here, you would have found yourself alone in the library with Miss Bennet.”

“Do not twist my words, Darcy!”

“Nor should you twist something perfectly innocent,” Mr Darcy answered harshly. “Miss Bennet, you should return to your room now. It is rather chilly, and it would not do for you to catch a cold just when your sister is almost recovered. Besides, there is no use in you witnessing a silly conversation between two men who have had one drink too many.”

“Yes, of course,” she replied quietly. “Thank you for the book, Mr Darcy, and I am sorry for disturbing your solitude. Good night, Lord Dunnroy.”

“Good night, Miss Bennet.” The viscount bowed formally, looking slightly ridiculous in his night attire.

Elizabeth had hardly taken a step out of the library, desperate to withdraw to her room, when she stumbled upon a maid who was carrying a tray. Both of them let out a little cry, then the maid began to apologise.

“I beg your forgiveness, Miss Bennet. Lord Dunnroy asked for some tea and biscuits for her ladyship and some brandy for himself, and I was about to take it in. Your lordship, should I leave the tray here or take it to her ladyship’s room?” The maid spoke with her head lowered.