Page 5 of Disarmed

D arcy was hiding in the library. Preparations for the following day’s ball had given Miss Bingley a brittleness of temper that was even harder to endure than her usual state, and Bingley’s enthusiasm for the whole event had become tiresome.

Due to the interminable rain that had fallen for the last three days, none of the occupants of Netherfield had ventured out of doors, and Darcy was craving exercise.

It did not help that he had found very little time alone since Friday morning to order his thoughts about what had happened in the cottage with Miss Lydia Bennet. Many things that had been said bothered him, and he knew he would find no peace if he did not properly consider the event.

First of all, the fact that he had found Wickham and Miss Lydia alone and…

Darcy did not want to contemplate what they had been doing or may have been about to do when he arrived; the girl was fifteen, and he knew of Wickham’s proclivities.

With that in mind, Darcy was glad he had happened to interrupt them.

No matter what he thought of Miss Lydia’s impudence and coarseness, she was a child, and she deserved to be safeguarded from Wickham.

Since Darcy was the only man in the vicinity aware of the snake’s unscrupulous nature, it fell to him to protect her.

Or at least to warn her father of the danger.

This in itself was a conundrum. Despite what Miss Lydia had said, he was sure that if either of her parents got a whiff of the fact that he had been alone with the girl in the cottage, they would try to force his hand.

He would not yield, of course, but he did not want the unpleasantness to affect his friend Bingley—or Miss Elizabeth.

He allowed himself to dream for a moment of offering to marry her in place of her sister to save the family’s reputation.

“My mother hates you quite as much as the rest of us do, Mr Darcy. Well, perhaps not as much as Lizzy does…” The words of Miss Lydia pierced his heart.

He had no doubt that the girl was sharp-witted, despite her blind support of Wickham.

She had discerned his interest in her sister and intended to wound him.

It had worked. But had she spoken the truth?

Did Miss Elizabeth truly hate him? He thought they had enjoyed sparring with each other at Netherfield, but perhaps he had been mistaken.

Did she bear a grudge for his remark at the assembly?

He ran his hand over his face. He had never been adept at reading the moods and feelings of others.

It was part of the reason he felt so powerless to help his sister recover from her own brush with Wickham.

Miss Lydia had also seemed to believe that Mr Collins would soon make Miss Elizabeth an offer of marriage.

The thought sickened him. He had seen the man only briefly, but being the wife of a country parson and then returning to Longbourn as mistress while her widowed mother harangued her and refused to relinquish her position would be a sad waste of Miss Elizabeth’s lively mind. Surely she wished for better?

He shook his head. There was little point in caring what she thought of him or what her future might be.

Her family was beneath him, she brought nothing to a marriage, and he could never consider her.

Given the incident with her sister in the cottage, this was now even more true than ever.

If only the thought did not cause him so much pain!

Something Miss Lydia had said had really struck him though.

“Jane is wildly in love with Mr Bingley…” Darcy had been surprised by the notion and at first disbelieving, but the fervour with which the young hoyden had defended her sister led him to suspect she was not dissembling.

Darcy wondered what Bingley’s sentiments might be.

A match with Miss Bennet would not be ideal, given the want of propriety displayed by some of the Bennets, but the lady herself was inoffensive, if lacklustre, in his opinion.

In some ways, it would be a step up for Bingley, Miss Bennet being the daughter of a gentleman.

His friend did not need his wife to bring a fortune to the marriage, and although the Bingley sisters would be appalled, Darcy could not condemn the match if there truly was affection on both sides.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of someone entering, and Bingley strode into the library. “Ah, Darcy!” he exclaimed. “I thought I might find you here.” He began to pace distractedly, irritating Darcy greatly.

“Bingley, will you not sit? You are making me dizzy.”

Bingley dropped into an armchair and began tapping his foot in a quick rhythm. Darcy closed his eyes for a long moment in frustration. “You are restless, my friend. If only this infernal rain would cease, I would propose a long ride. It is only eleven o’clock, so there is hope yet.”

“I am sorry, Darcy,” Bingley said. “Caroline is driving me to distraction with her constant demands. After first opposing the idea of this ball entirely, she is now determined it will be the best the neighbourhood has ever seen. The poor servants are so harassed that I am worried they might all quit their employment before the dance even begins! I had to insist Mrs Nicholls be allowed to return downstairs earlier. Caroline had barked so many orders and complaints at the woman that she looked ready to faint.”

“If your sister wishes to be an excellent mistress, Bingley, she must learn that fairness and compassion are important qualities. One cannot retain loyal servants by treating them with disrespect.”

“Perhaps you should tell her that. I am certain that she is trying so hard with this ball merely to please you and display her capability and accomplishments.” He gave Darcy a rueful smile. “I know you are not interested in marrying her, my friend.”

“I am sorry, Bingley, but no, I am not.” He took a deep breath. “Are you thinking of marrying, Bingley?”

His friend looked startled by the question. “Marriage? Well…I…I suppose…is not a man always considering marriage? When one meets a lady, one wonders whether they would suit, what it would be like to live with them day after day, to raise children with them…”

Darcy had certainly imagined those situations with Miss Elizabeth… He cleared his throat. “And have you found a lady whom you think you could live with and raise children with?”

Bingley blushed. “You mean Miss Bennet, of course.”

Darcy waved a hand. “Not necessarily Miss Bennet. In August it was Miss Harper, and in the spring, I seem to remember both Miss Mullans and Miss Hadlow.”

Bingley’s colour deepened. “You must think me a fool who knows neither his mind nor his heart.”

Darcy felt instantly regretful. He leant forwards towards Bingley, his elbows on his knees, and spoke in a gentler tone.

“I do not think you are a fool. You are a lucky young fellow with a warm and amiable disposition and a comfortable situation in life who is free to enjoy his time in the company of beautiful women. You have no need to marry for a good long time. Ladies make it their business to look enticing and behave charmingly. There are so many pretty and accomplished women, how is a man to ever choose?” He hoped he had sounded light.

He wished to reassure his friend that he did not consider him a simpleton or a rake.

Bingley looked thoughtful. “There are many beautiful women, of course. And accomplished. But I must say that I have never found a lady whose character I admire more than Miss Bennet’s.

I have likened many women to angels, but she shines above them all.

Her gentle temper, her grace, her compassion…

She is serene where I am lively. She is measured where I am impetuous.

Together, our temperaments just…balance somehow.

They just fit. I feel whole when I am with her.

I do not believe I have ever met another quite like her. ”

He sat back with a dreamy look on his face, and Darcy could honestly say he was shocked.

He had not imagined Bingley had developed such a depth of feeling for the young woman.

Miss Elizabeth was vivacious where Darcy was solemn.

She was compassionate where he was unyielding.

Did that mean that they balanced too? Solemn and unyielding did not seem so desirable as serene and measured.

He could not imagine those traits would please a woman such as she.

And she was worthy of being pleased by the man who wished to marry her.

And that man is not me! he told himself firmly, turning his attention back to his friend.

“Do you plan to offer for Miss Bennet?”

“I do not know…” Bingley said, frowning.

“She is everything I could ever want in a wife, I am sure, but Caroline…she wishes for me to marry into a family that could improve her prospects. And Louisa supports her, of course. They say the Bennets are vulgar…and that they are certain Miss Bennet is only showing interest in me because of my wealth and because her mother is pushing her to do so.”

He looked so dejected that Darcy stood and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“For what it is worth, Bingley, I do not agree,” he said, surprising even himself.

“Miss Bennet is a gentleman’s daughter, which puts her above your sisters in station, even though they might not admit it.

And I do believe that she may hold you in some affection. ”

Bingley raised wide eyes to Darcy. “You do?”

“I do,” he said firmly.

The grin on Bingley’s face was enormous.

“You do not know how happy your words have made me, my friend!” He glanced out of the window.

“I say, the rain has eased somewhat, and if we took the carriage, we could pay a call at Longbourn without muddying our boots. What do you say, man? Will you accompany me?”

He was so hopeful that Darcy could do nothing but acquiesce, even though he had many reservations about visiting Longbourn and coming face-to-face with the youngest daughter of the house once again.