Page 25

Darcy

A fter Elizabeth retired for the night, Darcy remained downstairs, accepting Bingley’s offer of port in the drawing room. The day’s journey had left him weary, but propriety demanded at least a short while with his host before seeking his chamber.

“How extraordinary that the very woman you met in the park that day should turn out to be Jane Bennet’s sister.

I could hardly believe it when you first wrote to me to tell me your wife hails from Longbourn, so close to Netherfield.

And that I should meet her sister so unexpectedly and find her so very enchanting,” Bingley smiled, then took a sip.

“Indeed,” Darcy agreed. “A most unexpected coincidence.”

They had barely settled into their chairs when Miss Bingley entered, having changed into an evening gown of deep blue satin that accentuated her figure to advantage. She took a seat opposite Darcy, arranging her skirts with practised precision.

“I hope your rooms are comfortable, Mr Darcy,” she said.

“The accommodations are perfectly satisfactory, Miss Bingley. I thank you.” He had noted that both he and Elizabeth were in the same chamber, a change from what they had been accustomed to. But given their conversation in the carriage here, he had to confess he was rather pleased.

Would a pillow barrier be erected between them again this night?

Or would be sleep in the dressing room? They had not discussed it, but he did not think so.

He had no plans to act in any way rash of course.

But sleeping beside her, perhaps wrapping his arm around her as they slept—that sounded more than enticing.

Caroline’s voice drew him from his contemplation. “One wishes to provide every comfort for one’s oldest friends. Though I must say, this visit has proven full of surprises. Your marriage being the chief among them.”

Bingley shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Caroline—”

“Oh, come now, Charles. Mr Darcy knows I speak only from sincere interest in his welfare.” She turned back towards Darcy, her smile thinning.

“I confess I was astonished to learn you had married into the Bennet family. Having made Miss Bennet’s acquaintance these past weeks, I’ve had ample opportunity to observe the family’s… particular qualities.”

Darcy’s grip on his glass tightened, though his expression betrayed nothing.

“I find Mrs Darcy’s family perfectly respectable.

” He had only met Jane, of course, but how particular could her family be if their two eldest daughters were such fine young women?

True, her father had struck him as rash and from her tales, her mother was rather…

lively… but beyond that, he had no reason for concern.

“Respectable, perhaps, but hardly what one might expect for a connection to Pemberley.” Miss Bingley leaned forward.

“The younger sisters are positively wild—forever chasing officers and making spectacles of themselves at assemblies. And Mrs Bennet! Her matchmaking schemes are the talk of the neighbourhood. She has made it abundantly clear that she views Charles as Jane’s certain prize. ”

“Miss Bennet herself seems a model of propriety,” Darcy observed, deliberately redirecting the conversation. “Her manners are gentle and unassuming.”

“Oh, Jane is unexceptionable,” Miss Bingley conceded with a dismissive wave.

“But even she cannot compensate for a mother who speaks incessantly of matrimonial prospects, a father who buries himself in his library rather than check his younger daughters’ behaviour, and sisters who think of nothing but bonnets and beaux. ”

Bingley set down his glass with a sharp click. “That is quite enough, Caroline. I will not have you speaking ill of our neighbours, particularly those connected to our guests.”

“I merely state facts that Mr Darcy ought to know,” she replied, her tone cooling.

“As his friend, I feel a certain responsibility. Did you know, Mr Darcy, that Longbourn is entailed? The entire estate is to pass to a distant cousin upon Mr Bennet’s death.

The family faces potential ruin.” Her gaze sharpened.

“One can hardly blame Mrs Darcy for securing her future through marriage, given such precarious circumstances.”

Darcy’s expression hardened. “You presume too much, Miss Bingley. I am well aware of the entailment and the families’ financial circumstances. I already offered my aid and it was declined.”

“Even so, Mr Franklin—the gentleman who holds the entailment—is known in London circles as something of a gambler. Hardly a reliable guardian for the family’s interests.” She took a delicate sip of her ratafia. “It all paints a rather desperate picture, does it not?”

“I find your insinuations both ill-informed and unwelcome,” Darcy said coldly. “Mrs Darcy’s character stands beyond reproach, as does her family’s respectability. I would thank you to direct your observations elsewhere.”

Miss Bingley’s cheeks flushed, but she maintained her composure. “Forgive me. I speak only out of concern for an old friend. These country connections can prove so… limiting to one’s standing in proper society.”

“I have found that true limitation comes not from one’s connections,” Darcy replied, rising to his feet, “but from one’s capacity for kindness and understanding. If you will excuse me, I believe I shall retire. The journey has been fatiguing.”

“Of course,” Miss Bingley murmured, though satisfaction flickered in her eyes despite the rebuke. “I wish you a pleasant rest.”

As Darcy bowed and turned to leave, Bingley rose hastily. “I shall walk up with you. Caroline, please do not wait up.”

In the hallway, Bingley shook his head. “I must apologise for my sister. Her manner is sometimes… difficult when her expectations are thwarted.”

“Her expectations had no foundation,” Darcy replied tersely as they climbed the stairs.

“No, but Caroline has long harboured hopes in your direction. Foolish, perhaps, but she is my sister.” Bingley hesitated, surprising Darcy as he had not been certain Bingley was aware of Caroline’s designed upon his person. Then Bingley asked, “Might we speak privately?”

Though eager to retire, Darcy acquiesced out of consideration for his friend. The study was a comfortable room lined with bookshelves that showed more evidence of hunting journals than serious literature. Bingley poured two generous glasses of brandy and handed one to Darcy.

“I feel I must apologise again for Caroline’s behaviour,” he began. “She has always been rather… particular about connections and standing.”

“Your sister’s opinions are her own,” Darcy said. “She need not answer to me for them.”

“No, but I would not have you think her views represent my own.” Bingley took a deep breath.

“The truth is, I have formed a decided attachment to Miss Bennet. I find her the most beautiful, gentle creature of my acquaintance. In fact, I hope—that is, I dare to believe—that my sentiments may not be entirely unwelcome to her.”

Darcy studied his friend’s earnest face. “You are contemplating marriage.”

“I am,” Bingley confirmed, his expression brightening. “Though I have not yet spoken to Miss Bennet directly. Her father has been most cordial in receiving my visits, and Miss Bennet herself seems to welcome my attentions.”

Darcy sipped his brandy, considering his response.

Despite his irritation at Miss Bingley’s allegations, some of her observations had troubled him.

He was not concerned about the family’s financial standing as much; he had known from the start it was precarious.

But he hadn’t considered that they might otherwise be questionable.

The news about the gambling heir was concerning, especially as Elizabeth had never mentioned much about this.

The younger sisters’ behaviour also did not sound as though it were suitable, especially not as company for Georgiana.

But then, Caroline had a habit of making things sound worse than they were.

Besides, he and Elizabeth lived far away, even if the family were as peculiar as Caroline implied, it would not influence their lives much at all.

Although he was of course established already. Bingley, on the other hand, wished to rise in society.

“Pray, what is it you wished to speak to me about?” he asked.

“What is your opinion of Miss Bennet? You have observed her today with Mrs Darcy. Do you think she could be happy with a man like me?”

“Miss Bennet seems a most amiable young woman,” Darcy said.

“I noticed her particular attention to you, which suggests your sentiments may indeed be reciprocated. Though I would caution you to proceed with care—not because of any deficiency in Miss Bennet’s character, but because marriage is a step that should never be taken lightly. ”

“Of course,” Bingley agreed readily. “I have learned from past disappointments to be more circumspect. But I believe Miss Bennet to be everything sincere and genuine. Her gentle manners are not put on for show, but reflect her true nature.”

“Then you are fortunate indeed,” Darcy said, finishing his brandy and rising. “I wish you every happiness, whatever you decide.”

They parted in the hallway, Bingley returning to the drawing room while Darcy continued towards his chamber.

As he entered his chamber, Darcy resolved to judge the Bennet family by his own observations, not Miss Bingley’s prejudiced account. Tomorrow they would call at Longbourn, and he would form his impressions firsthand.

Whatever they might be, he knew with certainty that his regard for Elizabeth remained unaltered.

The challenge lay not in reconciling himself to her family, but in finding a way to incorporate them into his life without compromising the peace and harmony he had discovered with Elizabeth at Pemberley.

As he prepared for bed, he contemplated the visit ahead with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. How would the Bennets receive their daughter who had fled one marriage only to enter another with a stranger? How would Elizabeth navigate the complex currents between her old life and her new one?

He glanced at the door separating his dressing room from the bed chamber. She was there, on the other side awaiting him. Or perhaps already asleep.

Darcy opened the door and saw her resting, eyes closed and her form hidden under a blanket. They had not discussed sleeping arrangements and suddenly, he paused. Should he simply enter and sleep with her? What if this was not what she wanted?

He did not want to be discourse or assume.

Looking back, he saw the little bed had been made up in the dressing room. He bit his lip. Perhaps it was better to spend the night here.

As he settled himself, the events of the day impressed themselves upon him again and one particular piece of conversation troubled him.

What had Caroline meant when she spoke of some connections were best forgotten rather than cultivated when it came to the militia?

Had that been some kind of veiled insult aimed in his direction due to his connection with Wickham?

Or had here been an incident related to the Bennets and the militia?

Her tone had carried something mischievous.

As if she knew something she had not wanted to share.

Darcy frowned into the darkness. The thought left him unsettled as he drifted towards sleep. Tomorrow would bring answers, he hoped—not only regarding the Bennets but perhaps to this odd comment from Bingley’s sister.

Whatever revelations awaited; Darcy determined to face them with an open mind. For Elizabeth’s sake, if not his own, he would approach her family with the same generosity of spirit she had shown in accepting his own difficult relations.

After all, was that not the essence of their newly acknowledged love—to accept each other wholly, family connections and all?