Page 38 of Mr. Bingley: Just As a Gentleman Ought to Be
Shortly after the midpoint of April, Mr. Wilshere received word from Mr. Darcy’s steward that he and Colonel Fitzwilliam had departed Rosings Park in Kent directly for Pemberley. Wilshere had also been given assurances that Darcy would write Bingley as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Darcy would either return to London in a fortnight or send for Georgiana at that time if his business in the north detained him further. Darcy did relay that in his aunt’s extensive recollection of her trip to Naples—including a full accounting of her vexation at presence in close proximity to a crime of such gruesome and wholly debased nature as murder—Mr. Bingley’s name was never averred. No further details accompanied the report.
“Undoubtedly, had she seen me she would have reported it to Darcy.”
“Certainly, sir,” the steward replied.
“But still, what an odd dispatch,” Bingley remarked.
“Indeed, sir,” answered Wilshere. “It is most unlike Mr. Darcy in its dearth of fraternal timbre.”
“It clearly must be related to his visit at Rosings, no?” Wilshere shrugged. “Though the words are his, the intonation is that of a man distressed by… Distressed by what? Surely he did not propose to Anne—or perhaps, conversely, he made it plain that he had no intentions to do so, and that greatly vexed Lady Catherine?”
“I have not known Mr. Darcy to be a man excessively concerned or troubled by the wishes of his aunt.”
“No, indeed.”
After several moments of reflective silence, Wilshere began to relate the latest information from their reconnoitrers throughout the country. His men had effectively established that the trade in young ladies had been somewhat curtailed by the downfall of Lord St. John but had been unsuccessful in uncovering the identity of the new appointee who would replace Sir Andrew Fraser. In addition to the fruitful discovery of the dark fraternity’s extant operation, Wilshere’s men reported another troubling piece of news: that George Wickham’s involvement appeared in every report from every direction. It was widely believed he was a low-level operative, but he was undoubtedly responsible for the procurement of innocent young ladies on behalf of the vile plot. Bingley’s worried thoughts immediately turned to Longbourn and the Bennet girls. He even imagined that exterminating Wickham would give him cause to return to Netherfield, but this plan was checked by his better judgement. He could not simply return to the area and immediately dispatch with Wickham—such an overt act would be reckless and cause too much suspicion to befall him. After learning from his steward that, though the repugnant scheme was dormant but temporarily, no young women had disappeared since the murder of Lord St. John in Naples. With this information in hand, in addition to the fact that the Bennet sisters’ status did not fit the profile of those young ladies who had fallen prey, he considered that they were safe—at least for the time being.
From Grantley Village, Maitland had learned that Constable Gallagher was preparing a voyage to London once the weather had warmed slightly. The young man had attempted to earn the cobbler’s trust by offering himself as an apprentice, but Gallagher had patently refused. Though they met by chance—or so it was made to appear—at the local alehouse on several occasions, Maitland had hardly been able to coax any relevant information from him. Even on those evenings where the shoemaker drank too much, he remained resolutely tight-lipped in regard to his investigation. There was hardly a useful word from the entire town on the subject. The cobbler was apparently solemn in the pursuit of his duty.
As the following week wore on in tedium—one soiree after the next on behalf of his sister—Bingley took seriously the thought of initiating correspondence with Darcy but thought the better of it each time he sat down to write. He even briefly contemplated leaving at once for Derbyshire, but again reconsidered on the basis that, though his friend would most likely welcome his company out of civility, he was more likely to consider Bingley’s unannounced arrival as an imposition, and a needlessly impulsive deed. He had never known Darcy in such a state of emotional disquietude and was simply bewildered as to know how to act.
Fortunately for Bingley, while he and Caroline took tea the following afternoon, Ridley, the footman, introduced Georgiana who presented a letter for Bingley from her brother. He thanked her and then excused himself to his study to read it. He fumbled hurriedly with the seal and unfurled several sheets containing Darcy’s careful and practiced hand.
Dear Bingley,
Please pardon my recent detachment. I can assure you that my hasty and unexpected withdrawal from society, including your cherished company, was by no means intended as a slight against you, my dear friend. As you will undoubtedly recall, my emotional state prior to my departure from London was visceral and quite beyond the control of my faculties, as much as it shames to me admit. In your position, as one of the more intimate companions of all my associations, it is likely that you observed such uncharacteristic volatility in my countenance. I would like to make an apology for any manner in which my state of heightened inner turmoil may have affected or offended you.
My visit to Rosings began initially quite as expected, though indeed, rather more pleasantly than I had anticipated. Our days were spent in remarkably more sunshine than is usual during that time of year; our nights spent in the most agreeable company I might have ever imagined—my aunt’s overbearing fatuity aside. By the halfway mark of my visit, I was nearly convinced that my future would be in large part decided before I withdrew back to town. Oh, what terrible turns our best intended plans can take!
Before I could fully appreciate what was happening, a storm born of my own naivety and ignorance descended upon me like a mighty scourge from the heavenly realms. At present I have finally, I believe, begun to unravel the enigma of my own uncompromising weaknesses, to which I have, perhaps, been wilfully blind. I would by no means intend you any distress, but I hardly feel after such an upheaval of my mind and spirit, that I am half the man I was a month ago. I do not know if I will ever fully recover from such a blow to the image of the man I had aspired to be. For most of my life I have been dutiful to craft my character as a gentleman worthy of my position, worthy of the legacy to which I have been charged by not only my own dear father, but those gentlemen who proceeded him into death. I have never taken lightly my responsibility to my estate, my family, and those within the scope of my influence. I cannot relay the distress I have felt these last weeks in the apprehension that I have let them all down.
As you are aware, it is not at all habitual for me to use such emotive language in my correspondence, but I would have you know that, while I am confident that I shall recover, and ultimately conquer the recently illuminated deficiencies of my character, my heart has, at present, been ravaged and punctured to a degree that I fear a scar shall ever remain.
Please accept my apologies for the unnerving effect I now perceive this letter may bestow. I can assure you that I am in good health, and that I look forward to giving a full account of the circumstances to which I have so clumsily alluded through the course of this letter. I plan to finish numerous, but minor, matters of business before departing for London on the fourteenth of May. I shall be exceedingly grateful for your company at the conclusion of that journey, and do hope you will aim to stay in town until at least that week, unless of course urgent matters of business were to call you away. I am grateful for your trusted friendship, Charles, and do wish to be more mindful of expressing said sentiment.
Sincerely, Darcy.
Bingley sat on the lip of the desk, holding the letter in both hands. His right eye squinted as he did his best to make sense of his friend’s nebulous dispatch. The letter did, however, settle his plans to stay in London at least another month complete, rather than scheming an escape to Netherfield Park. He wondered how much of Darcy’s fragile state had been conveyed to Georgiana. Certainly, Darcy would not wish to burden her with concern over his wellbeing with such distance between them. Bingley then decided he would lock the note away and return to the company of his sister and Darcy’s sister, so as not to give either of them cause for anxiety over the contents of the letter. He returned to the drawing room to find the young ladies painting contentedly. He sat there with a book he barely feigned to read over the course of the next hour. While they dined that evening the thought struck Bingley that upon his return to Netherfield, whenever that might be, he would conjure a way to have Jane Bennet dine with them and would order Jensen to make pizza—what a night of everything delightful that would be.