“Where are you going?”
Darcy looked up as Bingley entered his guest room. There could be no denying the charge, for Darcy had been standing over the trunk that his valet had so carefully packed, adding some books and removing others. Likely ruining Jameson’s hard work, Darcy was forced to admit to himself. His valet was always annoyed, though too discrete to say so openly, when his highly efficient packing was disarrayed. Darcy looked away, feeling guilty. “I am preparing to depart for Pemberley this evening.”
“Tonight? Surely not!” Bingley said. He joined him at the trunk, where he had been meddling with the packed books. Bingley started removing them from the trunk and replacing them on the desk. “You must come to the assembly with us. It is the first public event that Jane and I will have attended since the engagement.”
Darcy let out a sad sigh. “I cannot,” he said lamely. “I have already called for the carriage.”
“Well, simply tell your coachman he will be taking you to Meryton, instead of Derbyshire.” Bingley continued taking things out of his trunks and replacing them on the desk for the valet to put away. “What were you thinking of, leaving for such a trip at night? I need you, my friend. How can I go through this evening without you by my side?”
Darcy hated to let down a friend. Yet it would be torture to see Elizabeth, knowing that she could never be his. What could be done? Surely, his friendship with Bingley was more important than his own discomfort. He sighed heavily, laying aside the books he had been holding, as well as his letter-writing implements. “Very well. I shall stay until tomorrow. But then I really must depart for Pemberley, especially if Georgiana and I are to return in time for your wedding.” He gave a weak smile, wishing things could have been different.
“Good!” Bingley said, slapping him good-naturedly on the shoulder. “I am glad you changed your mind. But of course I understand. I want you and Miss Darcy to be present for the wedding. Indeed, I do not think I could stand up on my wedding day without you as my witness.”
Darcy looked at his hands. He had hoped that Bingley would stand up with him at the altar on his wedding day. Now, he was unsure if he would ever find someone with whom he could pledge his life and troth. Another woman, however exemplary, would not be his Elizabeth. “I will be proud to stand up with you on that day, my friend.”
Bingley’s face fell, no doubt seeing the sadness in Darcy’s visage. “I am sorry things did not work out between you and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You seemed as if you were coming to an understanding, there at the end.”
“It was what she wanted,” Darcy shrugged, trying to downplay the hurt radiating through his heart. “She was relieved that the mystery had been solved and our names were cleared. It was only right to let her out of an engagement that she never wanted.”
Bingley cocked his head, looking at him sideways for several moments. “I am surprised. It seems to me that Miss Elizabeth was a good match for you — both in spirit and in mind. You are similar in many ways, but she would have challenged you in others, just as you would have done for her. And you worked so well together. I would even venture as far as to say she seemed to have a genuine affection for you. Are you sure she wanted to call off the engagement? Could it be that she was only relieved that the trap had worked and Wickham was caught?”
Darcy could not bring himself to seriously consider it. Hope was simply too painful. “It is better this way, Bingley. Believe me. Miss Elizabeth will be free to find someone she can truly esteem. It would never have worked to go through with a marriage that had been forced like this.”
“I am not so sure. Say what you will of Wickham, and certainly his actions were beneath contempt, taking such a pitiful revenge on you and trying to extort Mr Bennet. He is a louse and a scoundrel, and I will not gloat over someone so soon destined for eternity, but I will say this: perhaps you have reason to be grateful to Wickham for one thing — that he brought you and Miss Elizabeth together.”
Darcy hardly knew what to say. He simply nodded and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, ushering him toward the door of his room. “Well, I suppose I should ready myself for this evening, then, if we are to go to the assembly?”
“Yes, indeed. I do not think you will be disappointed that I have pressed you to stay. Perhaps there will be another pretty young lady who catches your eye.”
The suggestion could hardly be serious. The more Darcy thought of the future, the more bleak it looked without Elizabeth.
∞∞∞
The music and dancing were already in full swing when Darcy arrived with Bingley and his relations. Miss Bingley had remained taciturn since the dinner party with the Bennet’s. He was unsure whether she was turning over a new leaf or if she was simply biding her time for the next insult she could hurl at the family, but it was a welcome change either way. Her brother was certain to reprimand her again if she stepped out of line, as he had had to do at the family dinner party. Darcy was proud that his young friend had stepped into his role as head of the family that night, and he hoped he would continue in that frame of mind. The Bingley family would need a leader, and he was sure that Charles Bingley would be exactly the right firm hand to guide the family into further prosperity and happiness.
Thankfully, he had chosen his wife wisely, selecting a woman who was not only beautiful, but kind, compassionate, and gentle. They would lead their community with grace and generosity. Darcy watched Bingley as he claimed his bride-to-be’s hand, and they made their way to the dancefloor arm in arm. Because of their recent engagement, the master of the ceremonies asked them to lead the next dance, and Darcy stood back watching, proud and happy for his friend. He had promised himself not to dwell on the presence of his once-fiancée. It would be too painful, surely, to see her dancing with other men.
He could not stop himself from glancing over after they had come into the large room. Elizabeth stood at the far end of the room with her sisters, looking as beautiful as he had ever seen her. Her cheeks were touched with pink, but he did not think it was for excitement or joy, but perhaps the crowdedness and heat of the room. She gave a slight smile every once in a while, but the smile did not touch her eyes. He knew her well enough to know the difference between a genuine smile and one put on for the benefit of others.
Lady Lucas joined him as soon as the dance set was finished, fanning herself vigorously. “My dear Mr Darcy, I hope you are well after the news we’ve heard?”
Darcy tried to play off his surprise. “Madame?”
“Mr Wickham!” she whispered, taking on a conspiratorial air. “We heard the news only yesterday. I cannot believe we had a spy for the French in our midst — and he was in the militia! It is abominable!” She took a sip of her punch and held her fan over her considerable bosom. “When I think that I had him in my home for supper, I am appalled at myself.”
“You did not know, my lady,” Darcy replied. He braced himself for talk of the compromise between him and Elizabeth.
Lady Lucas leaned closer. “I have also heard whispers that you and Miss Elizabeth Bennet have broken your engagement? Is that true?”
“It is,” he replied. “Now that our innocence has been proven, the need for the engagement has been removed.” He could not help looking in Elizabeth’s direction. At that exact moment, she looked his way as well. Their eyes met, and he saw the same pain and sadness mirrored in her eyes — dare he even say regret? But regret for what? Did she suspect how deeply she had hurt him? Could it even be regret at having called off their wedding? That seemed too much to hope, and yet he could not stop himself from wishing it might be so.
“It is a shame. You would have made such a lovely couple,” Lady Lucas sighed. “To think that Mr Wickham could stoop so low as to arrange the incident between the two of you! I tell you, I shall never trust a militiaman again for as long as I live!”
“Not all militiamen are blackguards, my lady. Mr Wickham was a sadly selfish man. He was determined to please himself, no matter who he hurt in the process.” Darcy tore his gaze from Elizabeth’s, his heart beating wildly against his ribcage. Could he really walk away from this opportunity to speak with her one last time? He was leaving in the morning. Perhaps Bingley was right. He needed to know for certain that Elizabeth did not love him. He turned his attention to Lady Lucas for a moment, hoping to put a quick end to the conversation. “I am sorry for the end Mr Wickham faces. But I am glad that he will not wreak havoc in anyone else’s lives again.”
“Well said, Mr Darcy. Even now, you show the excellence of your character in saying so,” Lady Lucas replied. “Everyone I have spoken with has praised your exemplary behaviour through this whole ordeal. Well, both you and Miss Elizabeth, really. It is a pity that Mr Wickham forced such an awful experience on you both, plotting to destroy your good name. But you have come out on top, I daresay.”
“Indeed?” Darcy asked. It was strange to think that the people who had viewed them with suspicion only a few days before now seemed to see them as heroes.
