Page 15 of Dishonorable Gentlemen (Bennet Gang #1)

There will be a New Sheriff in Town

Darcy struggled to balance prudence with remaining in sight of his friend as Bingley set a reckless pace back to Netherfield Park. Fortunately, the country lane between the estate and Meryton had little by way of traffic that afternoon, though they did startle a pair of maids walking into Meryton as they galloped past.

Outside the stable, Bingley swung free of the saddle, turning to Darcy with a foreign-seeming scowl on his face. “The man is insufferable. Preening and claiming Miss Bennet as his own. After what he did. I ought to have challenged him.”

Darcy swung down, casting a quick look over the grooms coming out of the stable. He caught Bingley’s arm and half dragged him up the path out of earshot. “You will do no such thing. Need I remind you that dueling is illegal?”

“I don’t care.” Bingley pulled his arm free. “It needs to be made clear to the man that he has no right to Miss Bennet. If her breaking his nose and the duel their fathers fought didn’t instill that truth, I will.”

“Even though you have no right to Miss Bennet either?”

Bingley jutted his lower jaw at an obstinate angle. “Someone must protect her. Her brother is only a boy.”

“If you challenge Collins on the lady’s behalf, it is as good as declaring an engagement, and Miss Bennet—”

“I see no issue,” Bingley cut in before Darcy could make his point.

With a glare meant to quell further interruption, Darcy continued, “Perhaps you should speak with Miss Bennet before forcing her to choose between marrying you or bearing the stain of a gentleman with no claim over her defending her honor. We have spoken of being trapped into unions often enough. Would you not apply the same care to Miss Bennet’s future as you would ask young ladies to apply to yours?”

Bingley stared at him, his anger dimming into a muddle of confusion. Finally, he grimaced. “You are correct, as always. I do not want to trap Miss Bennet into a union not of her choosing, or force her to bear the shame of a gentleman to whom she is not attached defending her honor as if it were his to defend.”

“Good.” Darcy drew in a breath. The crisis of Bingley’s anger averted, he could now focus on his own. How no one in the community had yet dealt with the odiousness that was Mr. Collins baffled him.

Miss Elizabeth’s belief that the Boney Bandits were indeed needed flashed through his mind.

“I will simply have to ask her to marry me,” Bingley added. “Then, the next time Collins troubles her, I’ll have every right to challenge him.”

Darcy’s attention snapped back to his friend. “Propose? You have not known her a month.”

“It has been over a month,” Bingley protested.

“I do not believe we should count our chance meeting outside the magistrate’s office when we came to inspect the estate.”

“Whyever not? Her kindness and consideration were on ready display.”

Darcy shook his head, uncertain if there was any reasoning with Bingley at this point. With a gesture, he indicated that they should return to the house.

Obligingly, Bingley started up the path, Darcy keeping pace as his friend asked, “Besides, what is there to know? Miss Bennet is the loveliest creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Which would say more if you possessed a greater number of years,” Darcy countered, for Bingley was but two and twenty.

“Well then, as you’ve half a decade on me, have you met a lovelier miss?”

Miss Elizabeth , Darcy’s mind whispered. “Perhaps equally so, but never more so, no.”

“You see?” Bingley broke into a smile as they neared the back of the manor house. “It’s settled. I will propose.”

Darcy scrubbed glove encased fingers across his forehead. “A decision this momentous should not be made in the heat of any emotion, especially not anger.”

Bingley waved that off as they entered through a door near the kitchen. “I am no longer angry, and I do not come to this conclusion in haste.” He glanced back, his resolute visage visible by the light of sconces that burned even in this little used corridor, because Bingley could afford both the staff and candles to keep Netherfield Park as well lighted as he liked.

And could have his pick among most women, from all except the top echelons of the ton .

“You will pardon me if I believe any statement about a lack of haste on your part is not entirely true,” Darcy ventured.

“I will indeed pardon you, but still maintain the stance.” Anguish touched Bingley’s tone as he continued, “You have no idea the torture of watching the cretin torment Miss Bennet today. I could put an end to that, and you cannot deny that she seems amenable to my attentions.”

Darcy cleared his throat, disliking what he must next say, but feeling as if he would be less of a friend if he did not ask, “Has it occurred to you that her amiability may be born of hope that you will purchase this estate and replace her cousin as magistrate? That would free her nearly as well as marriage.”

Ahead of Darcy, Bingley’s shoulders stiffened. They reached the entrance hall in silence, but Bingley turned at the base of the staircase. “Then you believe that I should purchase Netherfield Park first, replace the man, and then test Miss Bennet’s affection?”

“That is not what I said.”

“It is worth thinking on, though.” Bingley started up the staircase.

Feeling a touch abused by his friend’s deliberate misconstruing of his words, Darcy followed. “I must emphasize, that is not what I meant.”

“But it is a solid plan. Once her cousin is relegated to minding his estate and nothing more, his shadow lifted from the region, as it were, Miss Bennet will be free to prefer whomever she likes, whether they will benefit society here or not.”

“And if she does not prefer you?” Darcy countered. “You will own an estate in a region where some of the only acceptable society is in the form of a woman you care deeply for, who does not return your affection. Think on the torture of that.”

Bingley turned at the top of the staircase. “I am confident I will win her.”

“And if you do not?” Darcy pressed, joining him in the upper hall.

A line of thought appeared on Bingley’s brow. Slowly, he said, “I daresay if I do not, it will be awkward, although she is likely then to marry and move away, for if she favored a gentleman in this area, she would surely have wed by now.”

“And you? How will you find a wife here? Miss Bennet is the only woman who has struck your fancy.” Was he finally getting through to Bingley?

Bingley snorted. “You make it sound as if once I own an estate, I may never return to Town again.”

Darcy frowned, not appreciating Bingley’s levity .

“Look, I do understand your concerns.” Bingley’s mien became serious. “I agree that if things do not work out as I plan, I will be miserable, but I will be miserable whether I buy this place or not, and you said yourself that I cannot hope for an honest answer from her until she is freed from the temptation of wedding me simply to oust her odious cousin from power.”

“Again, that is not what I said.” Darcy spoke in a low voice, not comfortable having such an important conversation at the head of the stairwell. In a house such as this, there were many servants, all moving about on many tasks, and servants had sharp ears. “I merely pointed out that Miss Bennet might behave pleasantly when in your company because she does not want to discourage any chance that you might purchase Netherfield Park and depose Mr. Collins, rather than out of a regard for you as a companion and possible husband.”

Bingley waved that off. “It is all one and the same. I will give your words careful consideration, but we are speaking in circles, and I am off to change for tea.” With that, he pivoted and strode down the hall.

Aggravated at Bingley’s adamant refusal to see wisdom, Darcy retreated to his chamber. He changed from his riding clothes as well, unsurprised to meet Bingley again in the hall a short time later. In silence, they made their way to the drawing room where the remainder of their party congregated.

“Charles, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Hurst greeted from where she perched on a narrow settee, a book in hand. “How was your ride?”

Seated across from her sister, Miss Bingley rattled several folded pages at them, giving them no time to do more than nod to Mrs. Hurst in greeting as she said, “I have another letter from Miss Grantley. She has made an introduction for me to Miss Isabella Hargreaves, who is indeed sister to Lord Franklin. She says Miss Hargreaves awaits my letter.”

“I have no notion what you hope to accomplish by meddling in all this,” Mrs. Hurst said tartly.

Mr. Hurst nodded in silent agreement with his wife where he sat at a table off to the side, laying out cards. He preferred to practice for his occasional late-evening bouts in the village, played with some of the local gentlemen, over reading.

“What I hope to accomplish?” Miss Bingley’s full eyebrows winged upward. “Why, to see Charles married to the sister of an earl. One sublimely grateful to us, for we will be the instrument of reuniting him with his grandfather.”

“We have no means by which to know for certain if young Master Thomas is this lost heir to the Earl of Pillory,” Mrs. Hurst protested as Darcy joined the two at the low table, Bingley crossing to observe Hurst’s cards. “Mr. Darcy, would you care for tea? I was about to call for some.”

“I would. Thank you.” He settled into an armchair.

Mrs. Hurst lifted a silver bell, jangling it.

Miss Bingley clamped her mouth closed as a footman entered and took the request for tea. Once the man departed, she recommenced the conversation with, “Our lack of knowledge is precisely why I hope to convince Lord Franklin and Miss Hargreaves to join us here.” A smug, satisfied smile overtook Miss Bingley’s features. “Only think, me hosting a viscount.”

“He won’t be a viscount if your theory about Thomas Oakwood is correct,” Bingley observed. “No more than Darcy is for being the cousin of an earl.”

“And he will not be pleased.” The dire note in Hurst’s voice caused Darcy to turn to him, for the man was usually resolutely bland. “You may want to reconsider this course, Caroline. Franklin Hargreaves is not a pleasant man.”

Miss Bingley turned to her brother-by-marriage with eager eyes. “You have met him?”

“We belonged to the same club. I have seen him commit numerous transgressions. He once even kicked a pup on a wager. Sent the poor thing whining and scurrying across the room.” Hurst shook his head. “From the look on his face, I would say Hargreaves enjoyed it, too.”

Miss Bingley’s eyes went wide with horror, but she quickly schooled her features into amused condescension. “He is young, and I daresay was even younger when this so-called puppy incident took place. Young men are often ambiguous in their morality. That is why we women must take them in hand.”

“Believe that all you want,” Hurst replied, returning his attention to his cards. “I would wager half my fortune that none of the gentlemen in this room have ever been so cruel.”

Miss Bingley’s eyes narrowed.

“I daresay I have some lighter news,” Bingley said before his sister could speak. He straightened where he’d been leaning over Hurst to study his cards. “I mean to purchase this estate.”

Shocked silence met that, then a babble of words from Bingley’s relations.

“Oh, but Charles, you have hardly lived here a month.”

“Many felicitations, Bingley. Fine place.”

“Should you not travel England more first? ”

“You must wait until we know her brother’s lineage for certain.”

“Derbyshire is known to be so lovely. You could reside near Mr. Darcy.”

“A house in Town might be a better use of funds.”

“Are you certain you are making the right decision?”

Finally, her voice pitched loud enough to quiet her husband and sister, Mrs. Hurst asked, “Do you agree with this, Mr. Darcy?”

“What Darcy does or does not agree with doesn’t signify,” Bingley said stiffly. “I appreciate his experience and advice, but the decision is mine, and I will purchase Netherfield Park.”

A gasp sounded in the doorway.

Darcy turned to the sight of two wide-eyed, tray-laden maids. Both dropped their gazes. They practically vibrated with interest, though neither moved to step into the room.

Darcy grimaced. Everyone in Meryton would be speaking of Bingley purchasing Netherfield Park before the sun set.

“Well, enter,” Mrs. Hurst snapped. “Bring in our tea.”

The girls rushed forward. They put down the trays with a clatter then straightened. Exchanging a quick look with the other, one ventured, “Will that be all, missus?”

“I daresay it will be more than enough,” Hurst drawled at his card table.

“That will be all,” Mrs. Hurst said curtly.

The girls gave hurried curtsies and scurried away.

“Now you will have to buy the place,” Hurst said into the silence.

“That suits me, as I plan to.” Bingley came around the couch as he spoke, taking a seat beside his younger sister. “I will send for Mr. Morris tomorrow to see what must be done.”

Mrs. Hurst frowned at him. “Then let us hope that all this nonsense with Thomas Oakwood sorts out well.”

“It will,” Bingley said cheerfully.

Mrs. Hurst sniffed and began fixing the tea.

Darcy could only pray his friend was correct.