Page 14 of Why I Kissed You (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

The invitation to dine at Gracechurch Street Darcy had declined only because he had obligations to fulfil.

The insistence that he and Fitzwilliam dine at Bolton Street, issued by the countess, could not be refused.

He resigned himself to seeing Bingley later in the evening and spent the entirety of the meal answering Lady Disley’s inquiries about Elizabeth and her family.

Being repeatedly pestered with questions made him wonder if Elizabeth had felt the same in Kent, when Lady Catherine had plagued her nearly every meal with impertinent enquiries.

By mutual agreement with his uncle, Darcy said nothing to indicate there was a need to marry quickly, only that he had no desire to wait.

Like her husband, Lady Disley expressed her wish for Elizabeth to have more fortune and better connexions—had expected him, she confessed, to marry a girl from one of the many “good families” in their circle.

But also like the earl, she acknowledged that his choice of bride was his own, regardless of her origin, fortune, or family.

“I am pleased she is at least a gentleman’s daughter,” said Lady Disley at one point. “She is equal to you in that respect. And I must own that our Gardiner carriage is the most comfortable of any we’ve had!”

After the meal, Darcy and Fitzwilliam shared a glass of port with Lord Disley and Lord Rowarth, then took their leave. Georgiana, who had said little through dinner, approached him as he and Fitzwilliam awaited his carriage in the hall.

“Tell me, dearest… are you happy for me?” he asked her .

Georgiana smiled and nodded. “Oh yes. You know how much I have wished to see you happy.”

Darcy returned her smile. “I also know how much you have wished for a sister.”

Her expression fell and she looked down at her feet. “Yes. Perhaps if I’d had a sister to advise me, I wouldn’t have been so foolish.”

Raising a hand to her chin, Darcy tilted it up until her gaze met his again. “None of that, now. What have I said to you about self-recrimination, Georgiana?”

His sister sighed. “We each of us make mistakes, and what is important is that we learn from them rather than repeat them.”

Darcy smiled again. “There you go. Now, I shall need you home tomorrow, as Miss Elizabeth and her sister, along with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, will be dining with us. Theo will be there, of course, and perhaps Mr. Bingley as well.”

If he forgives me , he added silently.

“All right. I… I look forward to meeting your Miss Elizabeth.”

Smiling again, Darcy leaned forward and pressed his lips to Georgiana’s brow. “And I look forward to introducing you. I do believe you will like her, dearest.”

Once in the carriage and on the way to Grosvenor Street, Darcy became contemplative, rehearsing in his mind what he would say to Bingley.

There was no way this was going to go well—the more he thought about what to say and how it might be said, the more he recalled how Jane Bennet had appeared, and his guilt intensified.

“Stop that.”

Blinking, he looked across the carriage to his cousin. “Stop what?”

Fitzwilliam scoffed. “Berating yourself. You made a mistake, Will—it happens to the best of us. Remind yourself as you reminded your sister just now what you said about self-recrimination.”

“I honestly believed I was doing the right thing by him,” Darcy said. “I believed he would only regret attaching himself to the family.”

“Perhaps. But given what you told me about fighting your feelings for Miss Elizabeth, I begin to wonder if you convinced Bingley to give up her sister for his sake or your own,” Fitzwilliam observed.

Darcy snorted softly. “Both. If he didn’t go back to Hertfordshire, I would have no reason to. ”

“And so neither of you would be tempted.”

Inclining his head in reply, Darcy sighed. “Her mother and younger sisters truly are incredibly ill-mannered—I could scarce believe how vulgar they are.”

His cousin scoffed again. “And our dear aunt in Kent is any better? Come now, Will, you must own that she is nigh intolerable and that the only reason any of us do so is because she’s family—and because we each of us only have to put up with her nonsense once or twice a year.”

Fitzwilliam leaned forward. “If your dear Elizabeth’s family are such that you cannot imagine yourself spending more than a few weeks in their presence, then treat them as you do Lady Catherine and remind yourself how far away they are from Pemberley.”

Darcy could not help smiling at the thought, even though he had come to truly dislike how unkind his thoughts of Elizabeth’s family were. When he said as much to Fitzwilliam, his cousin countered with, “Is there no hope of remedy for them?”

With a shrug, Darcy replied, “I honestly do not know. What disturbs me even more than the ladies’ behaviour is how little Mr. Bennet seems to care—I just do not understand how any man can be so indifferent as to the respectability of his family.

How can he possibly not see that his wife and daughters are constantly subject to the ridicule of their neighbours?

How can he be so blind to the damage their unchecked manners cause the whole family? ”

Fitzwilliam gave a shrug of his own. “I couldn’t say, not having had an opportunity to observe the man myself.

But from what you have said, and what Miss Elizabeth has said of her family, I gather that he, too, is paying for his mistakes.

He must have pursued his wife more for her beauty than her sense, or perhaps he was not made aware of how little she had of the latter until after they married, and it was too late to extract himself.

Like most men, I imagine, he expected to have a son that he could pass off his responsibilities to—only it didn’t happen.

Something tells me Mr. Bennet is aware of his own poor judgment but, being unable to alter his circumstances for the better, instead of taking action to remedy the situation he chooses to ignore the problems he has himself created. ”

Darcy snorted derisively. “And entertains himself by making light of their ridiculousness and disguising insults as wit. He does not see how much his indifference harms those he holds most dear.”

“Have you considered offering him an incentive?” asked Fitzwilliam .

Curiosity lifted Darcy’s brow. “You mean a bribe?”

His cousin laughed. “No, an incentive. At his age he’s unlikely to change completely, but I daresay it is possible to motivate him to at least take on a more active role in managing his daughters and his wife.”

Darcy crossed his arms. “And how do you propose I do that?” he queried.

“You have the means to offer small dowries for the remaining daughters,” the colonel said.

“Say, four or five thousand each for the three younger girls. Put it into your marriage articles that certain conditions must be met in order for them to receive the money. Maybe send the youngest one to a finishing school and hire a few tutors for the other two—or a governess if all three stay at home. Offer to pay for that as well, but again, only so long as they apply themselves.”

The ideas his cousin presented were appealing, Darcy mused. “And what of the mother?”

Fitzwilliam rubbed his chin in thought. “Maybe… You know, I’ve just had the thought that once you’re married, there will be little need for a paid companion for Georgiana.

Mrs. Annesley has done wonders with her these last eight or nine months—could she not do for the Bennets as well?

She’s qualified to be a governess, and she’s so genteel that she might just be able to teach Mrs. Bennet a thing or two. ”

“Now that suggestion has merit, cousin,” Darcy said with half a smile.

“I don’t want to insult Elizabeth or her family any further than I have already done, but neither do I wish for them to continue as a constant source of mortification for either of us.

I will discuss it with her tomorrow evening—Mrs. Annesley will be at the house and the two can get to know one another a little. ”

Fitzwilliam nodded his agreement, and the rest of the ride was spent in silence.

Darcy wondered if the inevitable row he was sure to engage in with Bingley would prompt his friend to secure his own house in town, a purchase his sister Caroline had claimed was long overdue.

Darcy could not fault the younger man for preferring to secure himself an estate first and being content to spend the rest of his time at the homes of family or friends; right now, he and Miss Bingley were staying with his brother-in-law and sister, the Hursts, but from the time he’d left Netherfield to the time Darcy and Fitzwilliam had gone to Kent, Bingley had been staying at Darcy House .

When the carriage drew to a stop outside the Hursts’ modest but respectable residence, Darcy drew a deep, fortifying breath before exiting the carriage.

After issuing an order to the coachmen to remain where they were, for they did not expect to be long, Fitzwilliam was quick to follow him up the steps.

The colonel gave Darcy’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze after he had rapped the knocker.

The Hursts’ butler, Stanley, opened the door and, on recognizing Darcy, stood back in invitation for them to enter.

It was, perhaps, the only thing he truly liked about visiting the Hurst home, that he was known to the butler and housekeeper and would never be made to wait on the stoop while his card was presented to the master or mistress of the house.

He could hear the noise of a small party going on in the drawing room—and knowing Hurst, it was a card party. Looking to Stanley, Darcy said, “Is Mr. Bingley home at present? If so, tell him I wish to speak with him.”

The butler nodded and bowed, then crossed the hall and slipped into the drawing room. Not two minutes later, he preceded Charles Bingley on his return … with Caroline Bingley in tow.

Of course , he thought, resisting the urge to frown—he’d asked to see Bingley, not Bingley and his sister.