“Was it your agent or the lessor’s who told you that?”
Bingley laughed and flapped his hand dismissively. “A sum I can easily afford, whether an excellent price or not — You must visit,” Bingley exclaimed twice. “All of you, Georgie too! Hello, Georgie.”
Georgiana looked down and shyly said, “Hello, Mr. Bingley, you look very well.”
His sister had a blush that made Darcy wonder if she might have a touch of an infatuation for his friend.
It made no difference to Darcy if she did — he would like such a match, but even if it meant the loss of such a chance, he did not intend to introduce his sister to society for at least another two years. Anne’s death had convinced him of many things. And one was this: A girl ought to have a decent portion of life spent unmarried before risking the dangers of the marriage bed.
“Well, Darcy? Do you wish to visit? I can promise dancing, and conversation, and pool, and fencing, and hunting, and an excellent neighbourhood. I’ve just come up to London to collect a party to bring with me for a ball in a few days. Colonel Fitzwilliam, can I count on you? There are never enough gentlemen at these events, these days. Come down tomorrow.”
Darcy’s instincts rebelled against making any substantial change in his plans on a short notice. But that was a habit of thought he had recognized in himself as a flaw, and not wisdom. He asked himself: Had a visit to Bingley’s new estate been thesettled scheme for a month entire, would he be happytodaythat the visit was to begin in another day or two?
Georgiana would leave for Ramsgate tomorrow, and this way he would be far closer to her if she wished to see him and Emily than if he returned to Pemberley in a week as planned, and there was no pressing business anywhere for another few months.
He’d felt an odd disinclination to be at Pemberley since Anne died. This was only surpassed by his reluctance to visit Rosings, even though it was his responsibility to see that Anne’s birthright kept under good management by her grandmother.
“I’ll come,” Darcy said. “You say Hertfordshire? How far from the North Road?”
“Not bad at all. Not at all. Six or seven miles from Meryton to the turnpike.”
Darcy turned to Georgiana. “Then we’ll both part from London in our separate directions, tomorrow.”
“You’ll not join us?” Bingley exclaimed. He gasped and pressed his hand against his chest. “The whole plan is now bereft of light.”
The overly dramatic tone conjured a real laugh from Georgiana. She then looked down and shook her head, while blushing.
Mrs. Younge twisted her bracelet round her arm repeatedly. “Miss Darcy and I have a long planned trip to settle at Ramsgate for three months. We ought not delay it again.”
“The beach and the roaring surf are chosen above me? The sound of the pounding waves and squawking seagulls above my conversation.” Bingley pressed a hand against his forehead. “I thought I could make friends so easily—” Seeing that Georgiana looked concerned at his theatrics, Bingley quickly added, “I am certain you will have a fine time, and we shall meet again during the season. Excellent. And Lady Emily will no doubt serve as anample recompense for your absence — ah but she is asleep, and unable to hear my exclamations upon her excellence. Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
“I have pressing business hounding the war department to ensure they will send enough men to make up our complement, and the guns and powder required for training,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied. “And then I must rejoin my regiment at its camp within a week.”
“Dash it all! The light taken from the plan once more!”
Colonel Fitzwilliam peered at Bingley in a manner which clearly said that while such jokes might impress, or torment, a callow schoolgirl like Georgiana, they would move a gentleman and an officer not at all.
“But at least I’ll have you, Darcy. Guests!” Bingley rubbed his hands in delight. “The house is a delight. The neighbourhood is a delight. The whole world, I dare say, is a delight.”
Chapter Two
Upon her first glimpse of their new neighbour’s guest, Elizabeth’s heart jumped. He was handsome, tall, smoothly shaven, elegantly dressed, with a noble bearing, sad eyes, and a black armband wrapped around his sombre blue coat. The marker of loss gave Elizabeth a sense of connection.
She stared at the gentleman who’d followed Mr. Bingley into the assembly hall for ten seconds.
He glanced in her direction, and Elizabeth flushed and looked down. When she looked back up, to her mild disappointment, he did not look towards her.
After this Elizabeth made a point of trying to not think about him.
It was not so difficult.
Her mind was chiefly filled with a deep melancholy.
This was the first ball since Papa’s death five months previous. Elizabeth and all her sisters, except Jane who was in Kent with her new husband, Mr. Collins, had dressed in drab dim colours. Mama had at least not permitted them to wear bombazine and crepe to a ball.
They’d received a few raised eyebrows upon their decision to attend, as it was not strictly proper for the girls to go out to a scene of gaiety like this sooner than a full six months after the death of their father. However, Mama was insistent that her girls would attend the first ball that Mr. Bingley was present at, so that they could have their “fair shot at him”.
“My girls,” she insisted to Lady Lucas, “have just as much a right to a handsome future as your children do.” Left silent until Lady Lucas left was Mama’s implied view that her children had more of a right.
