Page 59 of The Riches of a Life Well-Lived

Friday, November 29, 1811—10 Days after Tuesday

Darcy tapped a finger on his desk, wishing that the various stacks of papers littering its surface would magically complete themselves. He was supposed to be hurrying back to Elizabeth, not caught in a web of paperwork, family obligations, and social engagements. Of the five things he had returned to London to accomplish—speaking to Georgiana, collecting evidence of Wickham’s debts, drawing up settlement papers, disclosing his intentions to the Matlocks, and attending a few social events—he had as yet succeeded in only one.

He had rushed to Matlock House on Wednesday, intent upon repeating his previous conversation with Georgiana with one important addition. Unlike previous conversations regarding her near-elopement, he did not say that she had been blameless. In fact, he had apologised for having ever said so and had explained that if she wished to change her behaviour, she had to take responsibility for it first. His sister had been just as devastated by the revelation of Wickham’s wretched behaviour this time around, though he thought his apology had resulted in a glimmer of hope that she was not doomed to repeat her mistakes. He remained concerned that his presence might further distress her, and so Georgiana had remained at Matlock House while he resided at Darcy House.

Evidence of Wickham’s debts had not yet been compiled. Though he had sent an express to Pemberley before leaving Hertfordshire, it would take his steward time to collect the necessary paperwork and send it on to him.

His solicitor was drawing up settlement papers, but, like everything else, it took time. The Matlocks had been quite busy and unable to engage in lengthy conversation. Darcy was engaged to attend a small soiree tomorrow, a dinner on Monday, and the theatre with a party of his aunt’s choosing on Tuesday. He grimaced at his desk. In short, other than speaking to Georgiana, the only thing of use he had done the past three days had been catching up on his estate paperwork.

Really, three days was not that long—especially compared with what he stood to gain.

A knock sounded at his door, and he straightened. “Come in.”

“Mr. Bingley to see you, sir,” Watkins announced.

Darcy frowned. As far as he knew, he and Bingley were scheduled to meet for dinner at the club tonight. “Send him in.”

Watkins nodded and then moments later, a pale, dishevelled Bingley appeared in the doorway. Darcy rose and shook his friend’s hand. Once Watkins had closed the door behind him, Darcy offered Bingley a drink and then gestured to the wingback chairs next to the fire.

Bingley sank into one of the chairs, seemingly unaware of the drink in his hand. Then he knocked the whole thing back.

“Good God! What has happened?” Darcy exclaimed.

Bingley looked at him with haunted eyes. “Caroline arrived from Netherfield today.”

“Oh?”

“She took it upon herself to close Netherfield,” Bingley said dully.

Darcy nodded, waiting for whatever had so shaken his friend.

Bingley looked at him. “Is Miss Bennet using me?”

Darcy blinked. “Using you?”

“Caroline said she spoke to Miss Bennet before leaving and that it became clear to her that Miss Bennet does not care for me, that she never will. I―” He swallowed convulsively and then raised the empty glass to his lips. Confusion crossed his face as he discovered its lack of contents. “I did not care that Miss Bennet lacks wealth or connections. I thought her kindness and character would more than make up for any deficit. But―” His voice cracked. “But if she is laughing at me behind my back and intends to marry me solely for my wealth.... The entail is—well, I can see why she might care about money above all else, and I did not think our affections were equal, at least not until the ball.” He leaned forward. “Her manner seemed much warmer then, did it not?” Bingley slumped back into the chair. “Or perhaps I am only blinded by my own ‘na?veté,’” he said with a hint of bitterness, eyes turned to the window as though searching the grey sky for answers.

Darcy frowned. “Your na?veté?”

Bingley looked up at him. “Is Caroline right? Is Miss Bennet unaffected?”

Darcy’s eyebrows shot up. Miss Bingley often saw things through her own lens, but to malign Miss Bennet in this way seemed to indicate outright lies. She must be desperate indeed to separate Bingley from the Bennets.

“You are in a better position than I to answer that question,” Darcy said.

Bingley ran a hand through his hair. “I do not know. I thought—but Caroline said Miss Bennet was—I do not know.”

“Have you considered that Miss Bingley has a vested interest in ensuring you marry someone to her liking?” Darcy asked delicately.

“Of course! That was why I was so glad Caroline said she thought Miss Bennet was a sweet girl. I would hate for my marriage to cause strife, and Caroline will probably stay with me for some time to come—at least until her marriage.”

If she ever got married, Darcy thought wryly. Well, presumably after he married Elizabeth, Miss Bingley would set her sights on someone else. Hopefully on someone who would accept her shrewish ways.

“I know you do not like Miss Bennet, so I trust you to have an impartial opinion,” Bingley said earnestly. “What do I do? I came to London to deal with my business affairs, but also to draw up settlement papers. After how well things went at the ball, I was so sure....” He cast desperate eyes on Darcy. “What do I do?”

Darcy took a sip of his own drink, reminding himself that this Bingley was just as capable of the glimmers of determination and wisdom he had seen in Bingley on Tuesday. “I do not dislike Miss Bennet―”

“You just agree with Caroline that she is far below me,” Bingley said with a scoff.

Darcy shook his head. What a pompous fool he had been! Staying with a man whom he considered his dearest friend, one whose own father had been in trade, and then rejecting the Bennets for their connections. “I do not think she is far below you. In fact, she is a gentlewoman. In that respect, you would raise your status should you wed her. Nor do I believe her to be a fortune hunter. Whether she is attached to you, however—you would have to ask the lady herself if you wish for the answer to that. I certainly do not know her heart.”

Bingley stared at him, mouth ajar. “But you hate the Bennets!”

Darcy pressed his lips together. After a moment’s deliberation, he gave Bingley a wry smile. “As I am attempting to win Miss Elizabeth’s heart, I would be a hypocrite indeed if I warned you off them.”

Bingley gaped. “Win Miss Elizabeth’s heart?”

Darcy chuckled at his friend’s dumbstruck expression. “Yes.”

“But you—and she—you do not like each other at all!”

“You refer to our previous adversarial relationship?”

Bingley frowned. “You were more comfortable with her at the ball than I have ever seen you,” he said slowly. “In fact, I have never seen you speak to so many people at any ball.”

Darcy made a snap decision. “Bingley, I wish to tell you the whole truth of the matter, but it will sound fantastical.”

His friend settled back into the chair and chuckled. “Darcy, you have never had a fantastical bent. I imagine it is not so difficult for us mere mortals to understand.”

Darcy’s lips curved up. “I shall hold you to that.”

As he expounded on the repetitions, Mrs. Engel’s cryptic advice, Elizabeth’s advent, the changes that had gradually happened over the course of Tuesday, Wickham’s perfidy and how Darcy had been so focused on saving Georgiana that he had never even considered Elizabeth’s sisters, Darcy watched his friend. Bingley listened intently, but there was no hint of belief in his eyes.

“On my second to last Tuesday, I asked you for a way to prove the repetitions to you.”

Bingley hesitated. “Darcy, are you certain you are well? You are not prone to pranks, and you have always appeared to have a firm grip on reality.”

Darcy held up a hand. “When you were eight years old, you put a burr under Miss Bingley’s saddle; she was thrown and broke her arm. You were horrified, of course, but too ashamed to tell anyone the truth. You learned the devastating impact that small words and deeds can have, and you have worked hard to be kind to everyone around you ever since.”

Bingley froze.

Darcy waited.

“I have never told anyone that,” Bingley said.

Darcy held his gaze. “You told me twelve days ago. I wish I had learned that lesson many years ago. I was raised to believe that Darcys are always polite, and I have always tried to live up to my family name, but kindness? Honestly, I am not sure I was ever truly kind, at least not purposefully so. Not the way you are. Nor the way Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet are. You have long been the better man between us.”

“I do not know what to say.”

Darcy shrugged. “It is merely the truth. I was so caught up in living up to my family name that I missed the heart of the principle. I failed to appreciate how truly good and needed your kindness is in my life. Frankly, I do not think I would have tolerated the ton half as well had you not been there to smooth over my poor behaviour and to provide a friendly face.

“I am sorry if I ever implied that you were not enough the way you are, Bingley,” he continued. “You are a good man and a true friend.”

Bingley stood and came over to Darcy, pulling him to his feet and then clasping him in a rare hug. “Thank you, Darcy. I could say the same about you.”

The men coughed and then returned to their seats.

“I very much appreciate you telling me all this, especially as you did not have to,” Bingley said. “Why did you?”

Darcy took another sip of his drink and then refilled Bingley’s glass. “I missed you during the repetitions and, as one of my dearest friends, I would prefer you were aware of the truth. It would be too difficult to hide that I have changed. In addition, hopefully, it will provide context for why my feelings about the Bennets have changed. If you truly wish to marry Miss Bennet, I shall not oppose you—provided you are certain about your intentions,” he added sternly. “I would not be a good prospective brother should I allow you to take advantage of her.”

Bingley gulped as Darcy stood over him, still holding the decanter. “No, I—I have never felt this way about anyone before.”

“Not even Miss Warren or Miss Smith?” Darcy asked, mentioning Bingley’s previous “angels.”

Bingley shook his head vigorously. “They were both beautiful and congenial, but they lacked the kindness that so characterises Miss Bennet. It is difficult to explain, but Miss Bennet is different from anyone I have ever met.”

Darcy smiled and returned the decanter to the side table. “I believe I know what you mean,” he said, sitting back down. “I feel much the same way about Miss Elizabeth. Though she is beautiful and witty, there are beautiful and witty maidens in the ton. There is something more about her that makes her irresistible.”

Bingley ran a hand over his face. “I still cannot believe that you wish to marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You used to hate the Bennets!”

“I did not understand the Bennets,” Darcy said. “Now that I know that Mrs. Bennet’s seeming avariciousness is born of fear and that the younger three Bennets have lacked parental guidance and support for most of their lives, I am more willing to overlook their flaws. Besides, I believe the three younger girls are more than capable of learning proper behaviour, and I wish to help them. Finishing school, or perhaps a companion, might serve. They do not deserve the paths they are currently on.”

“You really have changed.”

Darcy laughed. “I defy anyone to repeat a single day more than a hundred times and not change.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” Bingley sighed. “Do you think Miss Bennet is indifferent?”

Darcy shifted in his chair, wishing he knew precisely how best to conduct this conversation or that he could at least have a few attempts at it. “I cannot determine Miss Bennet’s feelings. Nor will I make the attempt to do so. If you wish to know whether she cares for you, go ask her.”

“But Caroline―”

“Miss Bingley has a vested interest in ensuring you marry someone adjacent to the ton in order to raise her own status. If you forever allow others to make your decisions, you will never be satisfied with your own life.” He fixed Bingley with a firm gaze and leaned forward. “What do you want to do about Miss Bennet?”

“I―” Bingley looked down. “I really thought she cared for me and I cannot imagine her behaving as Caroline has suggested, but my sister would not lie.”

“Then investigate. Go back to Netherfield. Speak to Miss Bennet about your concerns. Wait to propose until you are ready. Even though you have requested settlement papers be drawn up, you do not have to use them yet. Make your own decisions.”

Bingley frowned. “I do not wish to make myself odious if Miss Bennet truly finds me repulsive.”

Darcy nearly washed his hands of the whole thing. Bingley’s unwillingness to hurt others and the resultant indecision sometimes drove him near to madness. “If you can ever find a way to hang onto your kind nature and still learn to make your own decisions, you will be quite the force to be reckoned with.”

“What?”

Darcy steadied himself. “I cannot determine Miss Bennet’s preferences or lack thereof. Whether or not you return to Hertfordshire is entirely your decision. I can only advise you to investigate when you are unsure of the best decision to make.”

Bingley stared into his drink for some time before finally nodding. “When do you plan to go back?”

“I do not know,” Darcy said sourly. “Not until I have spoken to the Matlocks, attended a few social events, compiled Wickham’s debts, and have the completed settlement papers.”

Bingley straightened. “Are you worried that Mr. Wickham may try to take advantage of your absence?”

“Not especially. Miss Elizabeth is there to monitor things and her uncle is aware of Wickham’s nature.”

“I did not mean to take more than a few days to complete my business here; I can return on Monday and keep an eye on him.”

“You intend to return? Even if Miss Bingley refuses?”

Bingley nodded jerkily. “I cannot make Caroline like Miss Bennet, and she may still be right about her, but I am uncomfortable with leaving things the way they are. Besides, I doubt you desire to stay at the local inn for any length of time.”

Darcy shook his head. “I confess that had not yet occurred to me.”

“Then it is settled. I shall return next week,” Bingley said, his tone significantly less certain than the phrasing of his pronouncement. He nodded to himself. “Caroline does not have to approve of all my decisions. I would like her approval before I marry, but perhaps it is impossible for us to settle on the same woman. If you are right, she will always steer me towards women of status and wealth and I will always be drawn to women of character. I shall attempt to decipher precisely what Miss Bennet’s feelings are.”

“I am scheduled to have dinner with the Matlocks tomorrow, however, I do not know when my paperwork will be completed,” Darcy said.

“Do you think they will approve?”

Darcy shook his head. “I doubt it. But it is my decision. You once told me that they would be more likely to approve once they have met Miss Elizabeth, so I may suggest we travel to London sometime soon. She has an uncle in trade here, and I imagine there will be no difficulty with her staying at his house.”

Bingley nodded. “Well, I wish you luck. I will certainly need all the luck in the world to manage Caroline.”

“Have you considered concealing where you are going? It might allow you more freedom in your investigation if Miss Bingley is not in Hertfordshire, and she is likely to follow you if she knows where you are going.”

Bingley frowned. “I suppose you are right. I shall consider your suggestion. What are you going to do about Mr. Wickham?”

Darcy sighed, swirling the dregs of his port. “I cannot allow him to continue preying on innocent people. I wish he would change his behaviour, but perhaps he has not yet had enough incentive to do so. After much deliberation, I have decided to put him in debtor’s prison.”

Bingley’s eyebrows shot up.

“I know.” He took a deep breath. Many people died in the atrocious conditions. “For the sake of my own soul and for the love my father bore him, I must ensure he has an opportunity to realise the error of his ways, though.”

Bingley shifted in his seat. “If there is anything I can do, I hope you will call upon me.”

“Thank you, my friend.”