Bill was perplexed. “But this isn’t about sex.”
Just pretend that didn’t happen, Elizabeth told herself. “I don’t think Lydia’s evil,” she said. “Misguided perhaps. George Wickham is using her, although I told her not to trust him.”
Kitty shook her head. “Nobody’s been able to reach her for the past week. She hasn’t been at her apartment.”
“It would be best if Lydia were silenced,” Bill said meaningfully.
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Have you ever tried to ‘silence’ Lydia? The girl talks like there’s a two-for-one special on words.”
Bill drew himself up to his full height—which wasn’t very full. “No, I mean, silenced.” He drew his finger across his neck.
“Bill!” Charlotte laughed nervously as if it were all a joke.
“Oh my God,” Jane said faintly.
“Maybe I can sell the story of my life to Hollywood,” Kitty thought aloud.
“You’re not serious!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
Bill regarded her disdainfully. “I assure you I am. The office products business is very rough and tumble.”
Elizabeth screwed her eyes shut, deciding that it was best not to pursue that line of inquiry. “I don’t want Lydia ‘silenced.’ She’s my sister, and I love her.”
“The president would probably prefer to have the Secret Service do it anyway.” Bill nodded sagaciously.
Elizabeth threw her hands up in the air. The idea was so absurd that it wasn’t worth debating.
“The real problem is the press,” Jane interjected somewhat desperately.
No, the real problem is my sister screwed over the man I love. But there was no point in debating that. “They’re not going to leave me alone even if I ask nicely,” Elizabeth sighed.
“You could do an interview or a prepared statement or a press conference. Or even strategic leaks,” Charlotte suggested. The gears of a seasoned PR pro were practically visible as they turned in her head.
Why didn’t I ask Charlotte for advice earlier? Because I thought nothing could be done.
“That’s a good idea,” Jane said. “The media is waiting for you to say something. Then some of them might leave you alone.”
Elizabeth considered this for a moment, chewing on her lip. What would be most helpful to Will? No, it was too risky. “I might say something that makes this worse—that hurts Will’s presidency.”
“Screw Darcy!” Charlotte said viciously.
“I’m not sure Mrs. de Bourgh would like that,” Bill said slowly.
Charlotte ignored him. “The president has left you twisting in the wind even though he professes to care for you. This happens all the time in Washington: allies turn on each other when someone runs afoul of the media. Don’t think he has your back. You’re on your own, honey.”
Elizabeth shuddered; Charlotte had expressed the thoughts she hadn’t allowed herself to think all week. She wanted to deny Charlotte’s assertion but couldn’t find the words.
When Bing had hustled Elizabeth and the Gardiners out of Pemberley—with a rushed and garbled explanation about Lydia and negative press coverage—he had assured her that Will would call. But it had been a week, and Elizabeth had heard nothing.
Elizabeth cleared her throat, finally finding her voice. “It’s a shit storm out there. He’s really busy.”
Charlotte snorted. “You still think you’re going to hear from him?”
“Char, I think he really cares about Lizzy,” Jane said. At Charlotte’s glare, she shrugged apologetically. “Well…it’s possible he cares…maybe.”
Kitty made a dubious face. “It kind of sounds like a one-night thing to me. The media just blew it up into this big thing.”
Elizabeth pounded her fist against the wall, startling Kitty. “A one-night stand? I wouldn’t do that. Especially with the president.”