It had not been a complete prevarication. He was tired, but mainly from the guilt eating at him. As soon as he returned to Darcy House, he closeted himself in his study. He took a tumbler from the tray on the sideboard and the decanter of brandy and fell back onto the settee where Richard and Giana had been seated earlier. He poured two fingers of the amber liquor into the crystal tumbler and placed the decanter on the low table next to his side of the settee.
He downed the contents of the glass in one gulp and felt the brandy burn on its way down to his stomach. Another two fingers were poured which followed the first just as fast. The same amount was poured again, but this time, rather than throw it down his throat, he sat rolling the tumbler between his fingers watching the candlelight reflected by the crystal and the contents within.
As he was looking into the brandy as if it would somehow provide an answer to his quandary, he lifted his eyes slightly, and there on the wall opposite was a portrait of his late parents. The likeness had been taken when he was ten, two years before Giana had been born. As he looked into his parents' eyes searchingly, Darcy swore they were looking back at him with disapproval.
His parents had both drummed the need to always act as an honourable, honest gentleman into him. Once his father had recovered somewhat from his mother’s passing, he continued to stress those attributes to his son.
It was the reason he abhorred disguise of any form. At that, the shame of what he planned to do struck Darcy as if Zeus had kicked him with all his power in the centre of his belly.
For the first time, possibly since he had watched his mother’s coffin being lowered into the family crypt, Darcy wept like a baby. If he followed the path he was on, his parents would not only be ashamed of him, but disgusted as well. He was about to break every cardinal rule he had been taught. He would not—no he could not—do it.
When he saw Bingley on Monday, he would have to admit all, as humiliating as that would be. His honour and his friendship with Bingley were worth so much more than his discomfort about being in Miss Elizabeth’s presence again.
He was able to admit two things to himself. He had not observed Miss Bennet and his friend enough—not even close to enough—in order to make an honest assessment of her feelings and from what he could honestly tell, Miss Bennet was somewhat reticent about showing her emotions to most, just like he was himself.
Miss Bingley could hang, he would not lie to his friend for anyone, especially not for her. As he made that decision, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
That left one major dilemma. What to do with regards to Miss Elizabeth. He placed the still untouched glass of brandy on the table next to the decanter. Over imbibing was not something he ever did. Again, he lifted his eyes to his parents.
“You two had the deepest love between you,” he told the portrait looking back at him. At least he no longer detected disapproval from the images of his parents staring back from the wall opposite. “And Father was socially inferior to you Mother, yet it was…love! It was love which determined your choices, not some arbitrary social norms.”
He heard his heart screaming ‘At long last,’ while at the same time, his head was not protesting.
There was still much on which to cogitate, and he would not be selfish, he would speak to Giana. He remembered when his sister had sat where he was now; when she had mentioned Miss Elizabeth it had been with enthusiasm.
One of the things he always believed was Miss Elizabeth would be an ideal sister to Giana. If she was half as dedicated to his sister as she was to Miss Bennet,she would be far better with his sister than any womanhe could find in theTon.
Aunt Elaine and Uncle Reggie could object she was not a member of the first circles, but he was sure they would accept her as soon as they met her. If they did have any reservations, it would be expressed privately to him and never in public. However, of this he was sure, once he made his decision and they saw it was irrevocable, they would throw their full support behind the match thereby smoothing Miss Elizabeth’s entry into theTon.
His cousins would accept her without question. Andrew and Cilla as well as Richard would not care about her standing in society or lack of wealth. He supposed it was one of the things that marked a shift between some in his generation and that of his aunt and uncle.
He thought about his family’s reaction if he made an effort to make Miss Elizabeth his wife. There was one aunt who lived at Rosings Park in Kent who would object. She would not care who he married, royalty or a commoner, if it were not her own daughter. He did not care about her opinion in the least.
In that she only saw and heard what she wanted; Lady Catherine was very similar to Miss Caroline Bingley. If she ever heard she was being compared to a tradesman’s daughter, his aunt would have an apoplexy on the spot!
First, he needed to meet with Bingley. Thereafter he would decide how, and whether, to approach Miss Elizabeth.
The tumbler still containing the two fingers of brandy remained on the table next to the settee as Darcy left his study feeling much lighter in spirit than he had in a long time.
Who knew a change of heart could make him feel so much better.
Chapter 27
Monday dawned a cold and grey day. There had been a mist in the morning which had left a layer of moisture on the ground. It was not enough to form puddles, but more than sufficient to make the day unpleasant for those who dared to venture out of doors.
Bingley had an appointment first thing that day with his solicitor to review the marriage settlement which had been drawn up as quickly as the man’s clerks were able. He saw nothing which he would want changed, so with his lawyer as witness, Bingley signed all four copies of the documents and sent one of his grooms to Longbourn. The man was clad in oilskins and the precious documents were under the layer of protection against wet weather in a sealed oilskin pouch of their own.
He smiled to himself as he departed the offices. By the time he met with his sisters, Hurst, and Darcy this afternoon, there would be a good chance the documents would be signed by Bennet and his copies on their way back to him.
His next meeting was with his man of business. Mr. Hodges had executed his instructions regarding Caroline’s accounts to the letter. Not only had they been closed, but an acknowledgement had been signed by each merchant acknowledging Mr. Bingley would not be responsible for any credit they chose to extend to his sister.
With that out of the way, Bingley went over the reports from the carriage works in Scarborough as well as the steel foundries in Sheffield. Both showed better than expected profits which pleased Bingley.
Unbeknownst to his sisters and even Darcy, he was still actively involved in his businesses which had been left to him by his father. Even if he purchased an estate one day, he would never take a passive role in managing the empire his father had built.
His last call was to Gracechurch Street to meet with one of his local partners, Mr. Edward Gardiner. A clerk ushered Bingley into Gardiner’s office, situated in what used to be a home. The office was near one of his warehouses. Gardiner owned three more and between them, they owned four ships.
“Bingley, welcome,” Gardiner stood to shake the younger man’s hand. “Until recently, I was not aware you are known to my family.”
