I tucked my box closer to my torso, though hiding it was impossible. Richard must have heard Bingley’s excited exclamation, because he joined us in the hall. Glancing at me, he cleared his throat. “So much pink!”
“It is Miss Bennet’s favorite color,” replied Bingley in good humor.
I clenched my jaw. Had I not thought only yesterday that Bingley ought to make more of an effort to show Miss Bennet how much he favored her? Had he not said that my gift had encouraged him to do better for her? Curse my interference! I could not discourage him now without behaving selfishly, and to act against my friend’s best interest—even when it directly opposed mine—would be deplorable. I could not do it… no matter how badly I wished I could at that moment.
Bingley turned to me. “I have you to thank for this, Darcy. Had you not shown me the importance of making my attentions more pronounced, I would not have considered bringing MissBennet flowers from my garden. She will know I thought of her and spent a great deal of time selecting the best blooms just for her.” Proudly, he held up the bouquet. “These pink flowers are camellias”—he rotated the bouquet and nodded at a different bloom—”and these are chrysanthemums. The gardener suggested that I ask Mrs. Nichols for some ribbon to tie around the stems and some brown paper to wrap around them so the wind does not ruin the petals on the way to Longbourn."
I could not show him the flowers I had intended to give to Elizabeth. My flowers would make his look countrified and even more so if he did not hasten to wrap them up.
Partially turning back to my room, further hiding my box of flowers from him, I said, “You had best do what the gardener suggested before the heat of your hands wilts the stems.”
“I shall only delay a moment, and then we can be on our way,” Bingley exclaimed happily.
Having the perfect gift for Elizabeth in my hands but knowing I could not give it to her pained me more than yesterday’s disaster. But I would feel worse if Miss Bennet was made to feel that the flowers Bingley gave her were not as impressive as mine to Elizabeth. The younger Bennet sisters would be certain to comment on it. To be fair, Mr. Bennet might not spare his eldest daughter or Bingley from a pithy comment or two. My friend had been too pleased with the results of his morning spent with the gardener for me to undermine his efforts. I could not do that to Bingley… but neither could I go to Longbourn empty-handed.
“Ride ahead with Richard. There is a matter I must attend to immediately.”
Bingley stopped short. “Nonsense. We can wait for you.”
“And risk giving Miss Bennet wilted blooms? Time is of the essence for you. Waiting for me will only ruin your gift.”
He looked between me and his flowers. His hesitancy indicated that he would ruin his gift rather than exclude me when he went to Longbourn. “By the by, what is in the box?”
I forced a shrug. “Nothing of import.”
Richard nodded to me before joining Bingley down the hall and clapping him on the back. “Darcy is right. Come, let us make haste to procure the ribbon you need and be on our way.” He cast me a sympathetic look and steered our friend away, leaving me alone to wallow in disappointment.
With a sigh, I walked with heavy feet to the stables, making haste so as not to meet Bingley and Richard. Was anything left in the garden that Bingley had not already picked? Elizabeth struck me as one to appreciate wildflowers, but I had little hope of finding any at this time of year.
Although… I did recall seeing patches of pansies during my morning rides. Elizabeth favored pansies. Would there be any remaining after the heavy rains of the last few days? If I started scouring the countryside right now, I might gather something worth giving her. I had to try.
By the time I rode to the nearest field’s edge, I had convinced myself Elizabeth would love wildflowers more than their exotic but finicky hothouse cousins. Trapped indoors as she was, she would appreciate a piece of nature, something she might see during her long walks over the fields. Yes, wildflowers were far superior, I told myself. So long as I did not allow my thoughts to return to the flower-filled box in my room, I was satisfied with this delusion.
I was a man on a mission. Unfortunately, after a considerable amount of time riding and searching for any color besides brown and green, I despaired of finding flowers of any variety in all of Hertfordshire. A few times, I was tempted to ask one of the farming families if I might pay for some blooms from their garden, but I could not deprive them of the little bit of brightnessand beauty on their property. Wildflowers it would have to be or nothing at all.
After so much grass and mud, I finally chanced upon a patch of pansies on a field’s edge. I leaped off my horse to pluck them before they disappeared. Their stems were short and delicate in my hands. I now understood why ladies used baskets to collect them, and I rather wished I had one. My hand would have to do. As carefully as I could to avoid crushing either stems or petals, I held them in one hand while I guided my horse with the other, making haste lest the blooms wilt before I arrived.
Bingley and Richard were already on their way back to Netherfield Park when I spotted them. Bingley was as happy as I had ever seen him, which was saying much since he was so often happy. His call had been a smashing success—his words, not mine. Miss Bennet had never looked so lovely with the pink blooms near her face. So gracious, so welcoming.
I congratulated him, concluding Miss Bennet was more similar to Bingley in temperament than I had initially suspected. Elizabeth had told me so, and having observed proofs of her claim mounting, I now was in full agreement.
Richard eyed my fist of pansies dubiously, but I had worked too hard to secure them to allow him any influence over me.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked quietly as Bingley continued on to Netherfield.
An image of the beautiful, wasted bouquet in my room flashed in my memory, and I cursed Richard for bringing it to my mind. “Get rid of those blasted flowers.”
He laughed.
I was serious. “I do not want to see them. If I smell their scent lingering in my room, so help me?—”
He saluted me jovially. “Consider it done.”
Before he could delay me any further, I urged my horse onward. Every passing second was precious if I wanted thesepansies to look at all presentable. Already their cheerful faces bowed in my fist.
My reception at Longbourn was decidedly warmer than my previous one. Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia circled around me, their eyes on my pockets. Their interest soon waned when they saw I had no sweets.
Mrs. Bennet sent for more tea and seated me by Elizabeth, who smiled widely to greet me.
