Page 44

Both men ate quietly. Bingley had been honest in his admission of hunger and Darcy had eaten little in days and found food surprisingly appealing.

When Fitzwilliam finally finished his sandwich, he leaned back into the armchair, cradling the mug to his chest. His eyes looked a bit more clear and his friend watched him curiously out of the corner of his eye.

When Darcy spoke, his diction was improved but the tone was no less morose. “Charles, you shouldn’t be so kind to me. I’ve ruined your life.”

Bingley finished chewing his last bite and swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to such a sweeping statement. “Well, that’s rather extreme, don’t you think? I’m not out on the street or shut up in Newgate prison yet, am I?”

“But Miss Bennet… if you love her as I do, you wouldn’t care what your life is like if she isn’t in it.”

Bingley was startled, having put Miss Elizabeth’s presence in Derwent House out of his mind when faced with the ragged state of his friend.

He had dallied in Yorkshire, free from sisters and friends, to sort through his feelings for Jane and had returned with a determination to seek her out again.

Now here was his closest friend, seemingly declaring that he himself loved Miss Bennet.

“You love Miss Bennet?” was all he could think to utter.

Fitzwilliam pressed himself back further into the cushions and covered his eyes with one hand, completely unaware of the confusion he was causing in his friend.

“Yes, may God help me, yes. I think I’ve loved her since we were all at Netherfield.

But what I enjoyed as friendly banter, she took as arguments.

She hates me. She hates me and I cannot help but still love her. ”

Something was off, but Bingley could not quite put his finger on it. Darcy had argued often enough with Miss Elizabeth but Miss Jane Bennet tended to watch her younger sister with gentle amusement rather than actively participate in the debate.

“Darcy, are you telling me that you warned me off of Jane so that you could pursue her?” Bingley didn’t bother to keep the boiling anger out of his tone.

The other gentlemen moved his hand enough to squint at Charles, his face wreathed with confusion. “Jane? Jane loves you. Even though she hates me, Elizabeth assured me that you were held in affection.”

Bingley was still confused but Darcy’s words gave him a glimmer of hope that he had not felt in months. “Jane loves me? But why would you be discussing it with Miss Elizabeth? And why does Jane hate you?”

“I don’t know if Jane hates me, though I suppose she will when she learns I’m to blame for her months of heartache…” Will trailed off morosely, unaware of how his sloppy use of pronouns had confused his companion.

Charles had a flash of intuition. “You’re in love with Miss Elizabeth!

” When his friend groaned in agreement, he continued; “And she hates you? It was obvious that she didn’t like you much when we were all together in Hertfordshire, but why on Earth would you think she hates you?

Why, she is downstairs visiting with your sister at this very instant! ”

It was a long, enlightening hour later that Charles Bingley let himself out of Darcy’s rooms, leaving the master to be tucked into bed by his faithful valet.

For a moment, the young man leaned back against the door and closed his eyes.

In Hertfordshire, he had guessed that his friend had admired Elizabeth Bennet’s sparkling wit and slim figure but had said nothing, having been consumed by his own infatuation with another Bennet sister.

In truth, Charles Bingley had never given matrimony much thought before meeting Miss Jane Bennet.

Although Darcy was several years older, Charles had never considered that his friend might be seriously considering taking a wife.

The depth of Darcy’s emotions for Miss Elizabeth and his subsequent wretchedness after her refusal left Charles stunned.

He was determined to aid his friend, even as he was determined to help himself now that the truth of Jane’s feelings had been revealed.

But how to go about it? His final words to Darcy, voicing a hope that all might yet be set to rights, had been met with total condemnation for his own situation, even as he hoped Bingley and Jane might recover their affection.

Charles had chosen to delay that discussion for another day when his friend had had time to rest and recover.

To himself, Charles recognized that Darcy had advised him but he himself had made the decision to drop his pursuit of Jane.

Or rather, he had made no decision at all and just allowed himself be drawn along by his sisters and friends.

Charles Bingley’s brows knit together in an uncommon expression of thoughtfulness.

Darcy had given him advice based on his honest perception of the lady and his desire to protect his friend.

Now that he realized that he was in the wrong, he had acted immediately to rectify the matter and was obviously experiencing no little guilt over his error.

Charles could not condemn that. His sister (possibly both sisters) was a different matter altogether.

Although Charles might be absentminded, he had a very clear memory of anything that concerned Jane Bennet.

He was absolutely certain that, on multiple occasions over the last few months, he had asked Caroline if she had received any correspondence from their Hertfordshire acquaintances in general and from Miss Bennet in particular.

Caroline had denied it unequivocally and had used this supposed termination of the ladies’ friendship as further evidence that Jane held little affection for him.

Now he had learned from Darcy that Jane had not only written to Caroline repeatedly but had exchanged visits with her in London, right under his nose.

In that instant, Charles Bingley experienced a rare moment of fury and, if it all turned out as he expected, disgust, with his sister.

He would give her a chance to explain herself but her manipulation of him as part of her own desperate social climbing was at an end .

Deep in thought, Charles did not realize that he had been standing alone in the hall for some time until he heard another door click shut further along in the family wing. Turning his head, it was somehow completely appropriate to offer a companionable if tired grin to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

She returned his greeting with a similar expression and took his proffered arm as they turned to descend the stairs.

“I’ve just left Miss Darcy to rest. She has been very concerned…

” Elizabeth paused, not sure how much to say.

Her head was full after providing a willing shoulder for the younger girl to cry on.

The emotional flood that had resulted from just a little compassion had left Elizabeth spent, confused, and more appreciative of her own sisters than before.

“And I’ve just left Mr. Darcy to sleep off his…

indisposition.” Charles wasn’t certain how much Miss Darcy might have told Miss Elizabeth and he wasn’t about to reduce his friend’s chances of gaining her good opinion by revealing that the man had gotten sloppy drunk after overhearing a few chance words in the shrubbery.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the pair paused uncertainly for a moment; two guests alone, having just put their host and hostess to bed after sharing the most intimate of confidences. Bingley caught her eye and his chuckle was met with a corresponding grin over their situation.

In that instant, having so recently been disillusioned over the actions of his own siblings, Charles Bingley was struck by how much he would enjoy having the woman standing before him as a sister. He rapidly made a decision.

“Miss Elizabeth, I should very much like to speak with you for a few minutes. Though we appear to have lost our hosts, Darcy has often urged me to treat Derwent House as my own. Would you consider it very improper if I suggested we share some refreshment before departing to our respective homes?”

Elizabeth smiled, finding that her esteem for Jane’s admirer had not dimmed in the months of his absence. “Yes, Mr. Bingley. I would like that very much, although I shall have to rely on you to direct me; I’m afraid that I’m quite lost.”

“Of course.” And with a grin and a flourish, Bingley offered his arm again and guided them to a small sitting room, leaving Elizabeth alone for a moment as he consulted with Mr. Holmes.

The tray of cakes that appeared within minutes was testament to both the staff’s efficiency and the butler’s belief that these visitors had brought much needed relief to whatever had been ailing the master over these last days.

After devouring several biscuits along with a cup of tea, Bingley looked up to see Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes laughing at him. He smiled guiltily. “Forgive my manners, Miss Elizabeth. I find that playing Father Confessor is hungry work. ”

With an ostentatious flourish, Elizabeth filled her own plate equally full before nudging the tray back toward Mr. Bingley.

“I quite understand, sir. Having four sisters, I’m well aware of the curative powers of a bit of pudding!

” After sharing conspiratorial grins, she added, “Have you ever noticed that many of the good clergy portrayed on the stage are given toward plumpness? I’ve often wondered if shouldering the concerns of so many must require greater sustenance than the average mortal. ”

The two shared a chuckle and Bingley helped himself to another biscuit before steering his mind back to the discussion he wished to have. After giving up on several possible openings, he put his cup on the table and slouched back in the settee.