Page 33 of A Cleverly (Un)contrived Compromise (Love’s Little Helpers #3)

CHAPTER 33

I f Richard said anything on the ride back to Netherfield, Darcy did not hear it. He did not hear Bingley ride back to join them either. What did it matter? Little by little, Elizabeth had worked her way into Darcy’s heart, and now there was not a piece of him she did not possess. He wanted no future in which Elizabeth was not a prominent part.

Darcy would have to disappoint someone, and that someone could not be Elizabeth.

Not knowing how to begin or how to proceed once he started, Darcy chose to speak to the point and in as few words as possible. “Bingley, Georgiana fancies you.”

The effect on Bingley was immediate. His mouth gaped open, then he chuckled awkwardly. “Merely a girlish fancy, I hope. Nothing she will not recover from in a week or two? That is how it usually works with me.”

“You have been the sole recipient of her admiration since late summer."

"Two months?" Bingley's voice squeaked. "B-but we spent the summer together. You encouraged it! You told me she had suffered from a heartbreak and asked me to treat her as I would a little sister, with the utmost care and kindness. Why did you not say anything sooner? I might have—I could have—"

"Behaved differently?" Darcy supplied. "Would you have really?"

"But I was only kind! Should I have ignored her entirely?"

"If need be."

"You would have me act like... like..."

"Like Darcy would," Richard supplied, a mockingly innocent expression on his face.

Darcy was in no mood for his cousin’s humor. "If I am not interested in a lady, I find it best to avoid her entirely. Too much is often read into a polite smile to indulge in social niceties at the risk of unwittingly encouraging a young lady's affections."

Richard scratched his chin. "Not a bad philosophy. Not very sociable, but nobody would dare accuse you of flirting with anyone other than your intended."

Bingley gawked at them. "I do not know how to act. If I keep from smiling or conversing with every lady I meet, I would soon gain a reputation as a taciturn brute." His eyes widened, and he covered his hand with his mouth. "My apologies, Darcy. I do not, nor have I ever, considered you a brute."

"I have at times," quipped Richard. "However, you both make good points. There must be a polite, socially acceptable balance between a flirt and—as Bingley so well coined it—a taciturn brute."

Darcy was in no mood for a philosophical discussion. He focused on Bingley. "Are you certain of your regard for Miss Bennet? Would you make her an offer?"

"Yes!" he began enthusiastically. "I think so... Well... I am almost certain."

Richard shook his head. "Miss Bennet is a diamond of the first water."

"She is an angel." Bingley sighed.

"Will you still think her an angel when the years gray her golden hair, dim her rosy complexion, and wrinkle her alabaster skin? Consider it, man!" Richard spoke quickly, without stopping for breath. "Marriage is forever; ‘til death do you part. Do you love only Miss Bennet? Can you foresee ever loving another woman? Or is she little more than this season's distraction?" Richard's chest heaved.

"I think so. I mean, I think I love her." Bingley spoke weakly.

Hot anger stirred in Darcy's chest. "Do you not know? I suggest you refrain from giving hope where it is not warranted until you are certain beyond all doubt. Consider the lady’s heart and reputation! You cannot dole out your attentions indiscriminately without consequences. It is not fair to either Georgiana or Miss Bennet."

“But surely, you would never encourage your sister t-to,” Bingley circled his hand as if the air would produce the words for him. Finally, he uttered an agitated, “To… you know what I mean!”

“I was not against the match,” Darcy stated plainly.

Bingley looked like he might be ill. “She is like a sister to me—a nice sister. I do not think of her…” his face twisted and a shiver shook him through. “What should I do?”

“That is not for me to decide. My hope is that you will strive to be a man your future wife, whomever she may be, will look up to. You have it in you to be a great man, Bingley, but you must begin making your own decisions.”

Looking a little less ill, Bingley spouted, “Like I did with Mr. Collins!”

Richard looked at Darcy. “We have not heard about that, have we?”

“I would have remembered.”

Bingley laughed. “I shall never forget it! I think I handled it rather well, but”—Bingley looked about and lowered his voice—“it is not something we should discuss openly. Join me in my study, and I shall tell you the whole tale over drinks.” They approached the stables.

“I shall join you after I have a word with Georgiana.” Darcy dismounted and handed his reins over to the stable boy.

They climbed the steps to the house, and Bingley stopped, one hand tapping Darcy’s arm. “I am not ignorant of the honor you were willing to grant me. There is no other man on earth I would rather have for a brother, but I could never use Miss Darcy so poorly. I hope I have not offended you—or your sister. I apologize with all my being if I have.”

As heartwarming as his apology was, Darcy was more impressed with what it stated about Bingley. “I am honored you still consider me your friend when I have given you every reason to take offense. It did not occur to you to use my friendship and Georgiana’s favor to elevate yourself. That is proof of your honest character.”

Richard dabbed at his eyes and slapped his hand over his heart dramatically. “I am honored to witness this tender moment.”

Darcy rolled his eyes. “You are only jealous that Bingley would rather have me for a brother than you.”

Richard crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, we both know I would make a better brother than you. Bingley is only too polite to say it.”

Bingley shook his head. “Actually, I have always been a little terrified of you, Colonel. One misstep, and quicker than a snap of the fingers, you could dismember me in any one of a dozen ways.”

“Tut tut,” Richard waved his hand dismissively. “Two dozen, at least.”

Bingley’s curiosity overcame his fear. “Really? Two dozen?”

Richard clapped his hand on Bingley’s back. “Come, let us inform the ladies of the house that we are in, and then we shall hear all about Mr. Collins. Darcy will need a good laugh after he has conversed with Georgiana. I do hope your tale has a strong element of comedy?”

“For a certainty. Except, of course, for Mr. Collins—and another individual who shall remain nameless until we are safe in my study.”

“There is nothing safe about your study,” Darcy retorted.

While his two friends chattered, Darcy tried to determine the gentlest way to approach the subject of Bingley with Georgiana. If only his conversation with her would go as well as his talk with Bingley.

The ladies were in the music room. Georgiana practiced a new piece while Miss Bingley sat beside her on the bench. Serafina, Angelina, and Arthur napped in the sunny window seat at the far end of the room while Mr. Hurst napped on the settee opposite and Mrs. Hurst attended to some needlework.

Richard burst into the room first, scooping up Crusoe when the kitten attempted to clamber up his leg. “Not that way, young man. We do not climb the master’s leg like a savage, but we politely ask for a hand up to his shoulder. Like so, you see?” The kitten clambered from Richard’s hand to the top of his shoulder, happily meowing.

Miss Bingley was unamused. “Will you teach it to fence with its claws next?” She barked a dry laugh at her own joke.

Georgiana smiled. “Only if Richard promises to make Crusoe a fine pair of boots.”

“Like Puss in Boots.” Miss Bingley tittered, finally understanding the reference she had inadvertently made. “Oh, but he will need a castle and a change of clothes if he is to charm the princess.”

“Only if he means to prove that disguise is the way to the heart of a worthy lady. I always thought the real moral of the tale promoted the virtues of industry and dexterity.” Richard rubbed his finger against Crusoe’s cheek.

Miss Bingley tsked. “Unless the estate is entailed to the next male relative, in which case, the princess will have to marry the heir presumptive whether she likes it or not.”

The room fell silent.

Richard pounced on the opportunity to goad Miss Bingley. “Like Longbourn? I did not know you thought so highly of the Bennet sisters! Which one do you consider the princess?”

Miss Bingley huffed. “Miss Jane Bennet’s beauty is highly praised amongst the locals. In wider circles, I dare say she is only average.”

Bingley looked struck. “I thought she was your friend.”

“I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet. She really is a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart that she were well settled. But with such a father and mother and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of her marrying better than Mr. Collins. She shall make a lovely mistress of Longbourn. Goodness knows the house could use some improvements. It is barely livable as it is. I would be ashamed to invite my friends into that garish parlor.” She leaned into Georgiana and laughed behind her hand.

Georgiana tried to smile but, to her credit, she did not join Miss Bingley’s spiteful laughter.

Richard’s face flushed red. “If you speak so meanly about a friend, I wonder what you think of the rest of her family.”

“Me? Mean? I only speak the truth as I see it. From the moment we arrived at Netherfield Park, I have heard of little else but the eldest Misses Bennets’ beauty. I own that Miss Bennet deserves the reputation, but I confess that I cannot say the same about Miss Eliza.”

“Really? Do tell!” prodded Richard.

Miss Bingley was happy to oblige. “Her face is too thin, her complexion has no brilliancy, and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character—there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I could never see anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look.”

“The only shrew I see is right in front of me.” Darcy was hot with indignation. “You dare malign my betrothed, the woman I love more dearly than anyone, to my face? What is that if not mean?”

“Jealous, spiteful, peevish,” Richard commented.

And this was the lady Darcy had allowed to befriend his sister.

Mrs. Hurst added her protests to her sister’s, but Darcy’s low tone cut through their cries. “You pretend to be my sister’s friend for the advantages she gives you, and how do you return the favor? With empty, self-serving flattery. You have no eye for real beauty if you cannot see it in every inch of Elizabeth’s person. Though I could describe what I love about every feature you criticize, my tongue cannot do justice to her inner beauty.”

Miss Bingley’s face was as red as a ripe tomato. She pointed at her brother. “Georgiana is ten times more accomplished than Jane Bennet. I would rather die an old maid in a house infested with cats than allow my stupid brother to ruin his prospects with an unrefined young woman.”

“That can be arranged!” Bingley cried.

Serafina leapt into Georgiana’s lap, and Georgie buried her face in the cat’s fur. Angry people are rarely wise. Miss Bingley, in her ire, had unwittingly said aloud the words certain to break the heart of her so-called dearest friend.

Darcy moved closer to his sister.

“You would go against your plan and let your closest friend ruin himself by marrying into that dreadful, scandalous family?” Miss Bingley demanded of him.

Speaking slowly to ensure he was understood, Darcy said, “Miss Bennet is as gracious as my mother was. It is my dearest wish that Georgiana become close friends with her and Elizabeth.” Folding his arms over his chest, he considered Miss Bingley sternly. “What I want to know is how you knew of a conversation you were not privy to.”

Mr. Hurst woke up then. “What is this? What has she done now?” he asked his wife.

It was Richard who answered. “Caroline foolishly admitted to eavesdropping on a private conversation and selfishly using the information to her advantage.”

Hurst nodded his head. “Sounds about right. Would anyone else like a glass of brandy?”

“Answer Darcy, Caroline.” Bingley’s look was as stern as his tone.

Miss Bingley glared at him, but her brother did not back down.

“Tell him, or I swear on my life, I shall send you to live with our aunt in Scarborough.”

She huffed. “By chance, I overheard Mr. Darcy tell Colonel Fitzwilliam that you would make a safe match for his sister, that he would not discourage it.”

“Where did you overhear this conversation?” Bingley pressed.

Miss Bingley jutted out her chin and clasped her hands together. In a small voice, she replied, “Outside his study.”

“What were you doing outside Mr. Darcy’s study?”

She fidgeted on the bench.

“Caroline, unless you tell me otherwise, I must conclude that you were listening to a conversation you knew you had no right to hear.”

She did not deny it.

Bingley rubbed his hand over his face. “All this going on under my nose, and I was oblivious. I have been the worst fool. That you would take this ill-gained intelligence and use it against an innocent young lady you called your friend… it is despicable.”

Georgiana peeked out from behind Serafina. When she saw Darcy hold his arm open, she jumped up to bury herself and Serafina in his side. Darcy held her tighter. To have her disappointment exposed so openly was cruel.

He knew the role he played had hurt her, and Darcy had no desire to add to her distress. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “Come, Georgie. Let us away so we may speak.”

He turned her away, but Bingley stopped them. “Please, one minute more. There is something I must tell you.”

“We have heard quite enough from you, Charles,” Miss Bingley said with a sharp sniff, her voice nasal.

Bingley’s eyes gleamed like Richard’s did when he was about to parry a sharp retort. “Oh, but Caroline, this involves you. I was going to tell Darcy and the colonel what happened to Mr. Collins the night of the ball. Now I believe it better for you to know too. Hurst, do I have your attention? You would do well to stay awake for this one.”

Hurst raised his glass of brandy.

“Mrs. Nichols was deeply distressed that two rooms in the residential wing had been left unlocked during the ball. You already know one of them was the study. What you do not know is that someone”—he looked directly at his younger sister—”had told Mr. Collins to go to there in order to free herself from his unwanted company.”

Miss Bingley clenched her jaw and sniffed again.

Bingley continued, “What you did not know is that Mr. Collins got lost in the hall. Instead of going inside my study, he stumbled into your bedchamber. He was accidentally locked inside it for well over an hour.” He paused.

Richard burst, “You mean, you have had the perfect scandal to hold over your sister’s head, and you have not used it?!”

“Not until now.” Bingley turned to his ashen sister. “If you behave in a manner I do not consider appropriate, you will find yourself saddled to a lowly clergyman and mistress to the very estate you ridicule.”

“You would not dare!” Miss Bingley jumped to her feet, positioning the bench between herself and her brother.

“Do not tempt me, Caroline. I am not in a forgiving mood. I can supply witnesses in a blink of an eye. Now you will forever have to depend on the discretion of the friends you have abused to ensure your freedom to marry someone other than Mr. Collins.”

With a huff, Miss Bingley crossed the room. She was too vexed to see the kitten twitching his tail and staring at the fringe on the bodice of her gown. With a mighty leap from the couch, the cat landed on her bosom.

“Rudy!” Bingley ran to the kitten’s aid.

“Get him off me!” Miss Bingley screeched and flailed, slapping at herself, her gown, and anyone else nearby.

“Stop it, Caroline! You will hurt Rudy!” Bingley pulled the little hunter away from where the pet hid in Miss Bingley’s coiffure, a tassel dangling from his mouth.

“You horrid beast! I hate you! I hate cats! They are vile, wicked creatures!” Miss Bingley screamed. She stomped away, the effect of her huff ruined with a sneeze that echoed through the hall.

Bingley cuddled Rudy to his chest. “Do not listen to her. You are wonderful! I am going to keep you forever so she never overstays her welcome.”

Mr. Hurst trailed behind his wife out to the hall, laughing all the way. “Good show, Bingley! Good show!”

Richard leaned against the instrument. “Hurst is right. That was better than Drury Lane.” More seriously, he asked, “Are you sorely disappointed, Georgie?”

“I hardly know what to think,” she replied weakly.

Bingley set Rudy on the floor and pressed his hands together in supplication. “I beg your forgiveness for being the ignorant fool I have been. It was never my intention to encourage expectation. Believe me when I tell you I am incredibly flattered—honored, really—that you would spare more than a passing glance at me. Unfortunately, I have come to realize that I am not yet qualified to take on the privilege of keeping any lady’s heart, let alone one as precious as yours. The fault is mine and mine alone.”

Bingley’s letdown was the kindest Darcy had ever heard.

A knock at the door prevented Georgiana from replying, but her forgiveness was apparent. The butler peeked inside. “I apologize for the interruption, sir, but Mr. John Lucas is calling. Shall I show him in?”

Kindly, Bingley looked to Georgiana and waited for her consent before he told the butler to see the young man in.

“I hope we can still be frie—” Georgiana began, her eyes widening and her tongue tying when John Lucas entered the room. He was a handsome young lad. Darcy remembered Miss Lydia had praised him for his good looks. The immediate effect he had on Georgiana was baffling, but so had been her previous behavior.

Darcy supposed he must get used to deferring to Elizabeth’s better judgment regarding his sister… and so many other things.