While Darcy admired her pluck every time he witnessed Miss Bingley’s inability to provoke or humiliate her, Miss Elizabeth was the chief source of his woes. She had her eye on Bingley for her eldest sister. She was his rival, an obstacle to his own sister’s happiness.
Unfolding his letter, he took a deep breath and refocused his attention, determined to finish it, but he was prevented from writing another word by the return of Bingley’s sisters.
Miss Bingley strode across the parquet floor with affected dignity. She settled into the chair nearest Darcy, angling her chin just so, smoothing her skirts and preening like a puffed-up bird.
He could not rise from his chair now without being abominably rude. Tempting…
She tapped his arm as though they were the most intimate of friends. He pulled away, but if she noticed, she hid it well. Her entire demeanor bubbled forth with delighted mirth. Darcy wondered at whose expense Miss Bingley had found so much pleasure.
“You will never guess whom we saw creating a scene in Meryton.” She tittered under her hand. Her self-importance fed itself off the shortcomings of others; Darcy took no pleasure in it.
Misunderstanding his stony silence as an inducement to continue, Miss Bingley lifted her chin higher as she spoke through a widening grin. “Miss Lydia Bennet was shamelessly flirting with Mr. Wickham on the high street.”
Darcy shivered. The mere mention of that profligate ne’er-do-well made his stomach churn. The libertine had won over finer ladies, including his own sister. Darcy could only imagine how easily an unrefined girl without restraint or sense like Miss Lydia would fall under Wickham’s spell.
Miss Bingley cackled, her gaze probing his, looking confident of his approval as she leaned closer. “It took both of her sisters to pry her off of the poor man.”
“I have never seen Miss Elizabeth’s face so unbecomingly red!” Mrs. Hurst chirped.
Darcy’s ears rang. He folded his letter once again and collected his writing implements into their case.
Bingley’s countenance darkened. “How fortunate that Miss Lydia has sisters willing to protect her and neighbors willing to overlook her youthful exuberance.”
Mrs. Hurst huffed. “She shall be a plague on the reputation of her family until they are rid of her.”
“If they can convince anyone to take her!” Miss Bingley added with a haughty look at her brother, “Anyone so unfortunate as to attach themselves to the Bennets will suffer from the connection.”
Mrs. Hurst nodded. “It is a miracle she has not ruined them already! No gentleman of quality could consider marrying into that abominable family. The risk to his own name and position is too great.”
While Darcy agreed with the Bingley sisters’ views on the subject, he could not approve of the cruel manner in which they delivered their criticisms. To encourage them was wrong, but to defend the Bennets was unthinkable.
To his credit, Bingley did not back down from his sisters’ attacks. His agitation was apparent in his furrowed brow and heightened complexion. “Perhaps an attachment to a family with higher standards of conduct is precisely what the Bennets require.”
No!Darcy bit his tongue.
“And what fool would take on such a challenge?!”
Miss Bingley’s forceful rebuttal received Mrs. Hurst’s zealous support.
Bingley looked down, visibly defeated. That he had not defended his own actions or Miss Bennet’s family more thoroughly added to Darcy’s conviction that Bingley’s affection for the lady did not surpass the superficial. A man in love would not bend at the first hint of trouble or allow anyone to challenge the depth of his devotion. Although this knowledge suited Darcy’s purpose, he would have liked to see his friend stand up against his sisters and take charge of his own life… just not at the expense of Georgiana’s tender heart.
Having finished chastising her brother, Miss Bingley turned again to Darcy. “Mr. Wickham would be a waste on Miss Lydia. I believe Miss Eliza would make a finer match for a penniless soldier. Do you not agree?”
Another shiver. Another twist in the gut. “No,” he groaned, not fully realizing he had done so aloud until Miss Bingley gasped and tittered again.
“Are Miss Eliza’s eyes too fine for the likes of a common soldier? Do you think she aspires for a loftier prize?” Miss Bingley batted her eyelashes. She must think herself clever for using Darcy’s words against him, but he felt attacked.
He crossed his arms over his pounding chest and assumed his most indifferent expression. “I hardly know why you think I should have an opinion.”
That was not a complete truth. He knew precisely why Miss Bingley would tease him about Miss Elizabeth’s fine eyes. Irritated beyond the limit of his patience, he had once defended her, praising her intelligence and appearance with the sole aim of silencing Miss Bingley. Would that he had held his peace! She had tormented him about it ever since.
He looked again at his unfinished letter. Six weeks of torture and discomfort, and for what? Bingley was no surer of himself now than he was before he let Netherfield Park. This venture had been a disaster from the start.
As much as Darcy hated to admit it, Richard had been right. Darcy would do well to encourage Bingley to pack up his house and return to London directly. Bingley would forget Miss Bennet within a week. The Bennets seemed to be a resilient bunch. They would find another unmarried gentleman of fortune to sink their claws into. So long as Darcy had a say in the matter, he would not allow them to catch Bingley.
Now he just had to help Bingley make it through the night without doing anything he would regret.
CHAPTER4
