"They were WHAT?" Shouted Darcy looking up from a small writing desk in his bedroom. He had hoped Elizabeth was coming in with tea and instead he was hit with this indignity. He sighed and rubbed his temples. This was all too much before breakfast, he focused on his wife and spoke clearly "Tell me again Elizabeth, slowly this time."
"Well, as I said before I was walking toward the kitchen when I heard some shuffling. I turned the corner and there they were! My sister Kitty, and Lord Matlock…embracing. Rather passionately I might add, right up against the hot stove." She stood hovering in the doorway, as if afraid Darcy may explode with frustration. He rarely raised his voice, but she feared his reaction to the news that another of her sisters was causing embarrassment.
Darcy's mind was racing. He found himself dealing with ridiculous scandals all too often for his liking. There was a long pause before he spoke, "I'll find Fitzwilliam after I dress. There is only one solution here."
Elizabeth crossed the room toward her husband. "Oh darling. I fear you must be sick of rescuing my misbehaving sisters! This is really too much of Kitty," she began to ramble, "And just last night she was lamenting of her actions last year, and pointing out the imprudence of Lydia's. I really thought she had matured." Exhausted, she collapsed into a chair near her husband's small desk.
He was too preoccupied to console his wife. He would dress, find Fitzwilliam and set this right.