Darcy smiled. “Perhaps.” He took a sip of his brandy, then set the glass on the side table. “And what of you?”
“Me? In love? No,” Bingley said. “I have not yet seen the woman I could truly love. I have met pretty women enough, but I must have something more than this. I would like to find a woman of truly excellent character and heart — like your Elizabeth Bennet, although I should not require so much cleverness in a wife, lest she find me rather dull!”
Bingley chuckled at this, but Darcy was too much taken aback to join him. “My Elizabeth Bennet?” he managed at last.
Bingley stood and leaned an elbow against the mantel, grinning at his friend. “Do not try to lead me astray. I have seen how you look at her. Indeed, I had several weeks to observe you with her.” He stilled. “I am happy for you, my friend.”
Darcy shook his head. “It is hardly time for congratulations. Do you not recall how suddenly she left? I cannot believe she feels as much as I do, or she would not have done so. Perhaps she does not wish to see me at all.”
“As to that, I think you must not leave it to chance,” Bingley said quietly. “It is clear how much you feel for her. Ithink there is a risk of far more suffering in staying away than in seeing her and making your wishes clear, however she might react.
Darcy expelled a hard breath. “I agree. Hence why I am here — in addition to the pleasure of your company, of course.”
Bingley took no offense at this, but merely waved it away. “I cannot believe it has been almost a year since we were last here together. I do believe this time will be much more enjoyable than the last.” He smirked. “For several reasons.”
“Indeed. We have the prospect of a very pleasing addition to our acquaintance here.”
“As well as the absence of some rather difficult company,” Bingley said, with a meaningful raise of his eyebrow.
Darcy could hardly deny it. Caroline Bingley’s snobbery towards others and obsequiousness towards himself had grown very tiresome indeed. “To avoid saying anything of your sister which might cause offense,” he said dryly, “I shall merely say that I agree.”
“Yoursister seems to have come out of her shell nicely since the New Year,” Bingley observed in return. “Georgiana was always a very sweet girl, but on previous visits, she was so shy as to be rather childish. Now she is grown quite pleasant to talk to. One feels she is truly one of the party, and a lovely addition to it.”
“I could not agree more. I credit much of her development to Miss Bennet, along with Mrs Laurence’s books, if you can imagine such a thing. I, for one, had never thought that a mere novel could help someone to grow up as it has helped Georgiana. But the proof is in the pudding, as they say.”
“Your sister’s future is bright indeed. Perhaps I will have to read these books myself, if they can have such an effect,” Bingley jested.
Darcy chuckled for a moment before turning to his friend more seriously. “And what of your future, Bingley? What do you want?”
Bingley shrugged. “I want what you have found. Not just a woman who can take my name and bear sons for the continuance of the Bingley line, but a woman I can share my heart with, one who understands me, and allows me to understand her. I have seen what a loveless marriage does to a person — second-hand, of course.” He sighed. “My sister Louisa wed Hurst for the social advantage he might bring her. She has not been happy in her marriage. And I believe Caroline has taken the wrong lesson from our sister’s misfortune. I believe Louisa would have been happy had her husband been of a temperament and understanding better aligned with her own, but Caroline thinks only that she did not marry high enough. Hurst has connections, but little wealth. Caroline thinks only that she must find a husband with both.”
Darcy nodded. “Quite understandable,” he said in his most neutral tone.
“No wonder she wanted to marry you,” his friend went on. “Not to mention that I do not know a better chap in the whole empire. But for your sake, I hope you will make a match of true happiness and affection.”
“You flatter me, Bingley. But I could say the same about you.” Darcy said, warmed by the compliment, so evidently heartfelt. “I want you to have everything your heart longs for, too, my friend.”
Bingley longed for the love of a dream-woman he had not yet met, but for his part, Darcy was in no doubt of what would satisfy the longing in his heart. It would take nothing more and nothing less than making Elizabeth his forever.
Chapter 23
Looking out of the bedchamber window on a chilly autumn morning, blustery and threatening rain, Elizabeth sighed. The world seemed a rather grey and hopeless place.
But that was absurd, surely. She ought to be feeling relief and satisfaction, not this odd, dull unease. In what still seemed half a miracle to her, her manuscript was complete. As of the night before, the pages were recopied cleanly, neatly packaged up, and ready to go to London and Mr Tilney in the next post.
And itwasa relief, to be sure. The novel was complete, if not when Mr Tilney had first wished it, and Elizabeth felt in her bones that it was good. The second printing of her previous novel had come out, and sales remained strong. Indeed, the royalties were so steady she might soon face the choice of whether to move them to a larger cottage, trusting the funds to remain steady, or to begin saving for dowries. Compared to what they had faced after her father’s death, it was a pleasant dilemma indeed.
Yet despite knowing how much she had to be grateful for, Elizabeth’s heart was not at peace. The gulf that separated her from Mr Darcy was too wide, and the likelihood that she might never see him again too great. Thanks to Elizabeth’s carelessness, Caroline Bingley had won the day. Whether such avictory might lead Miss Bingley to the proposal she so obviously wished was less clear. In her more hopeful moments, Elizabeth believed that Mr Darcy was too sensible to be taken in by such a woman. Surely he must see her for what she was, and know that he would be miserable married to so scheming and self-serving a wife.
In her less hopeful moments, Elizabeth recalled that Miss Bingley had, after all, triumphed over herself. Who was to say that she could not triumph over Mr Darcy’s good sense as well? And so Elizabeth read Miss Darcy’s letters with difficulty each time they arrived, wondering if this would be the missive that would inform her that Mr Darcy was well and truly lost to her forever.
“Lizzy, dear, why are you so downcast? Surely, you must not have heard, or you would not look so glum,” Mrs Bennet exclaimed as she opened the door without knocking and sailed into the room, followed by Jane and Mary.
“No, Mother, I have not heard any pleasant news. Perhaps you might tell me,” Elizabeth suggested, choosing to skip over the question of her mood entirely. No good could come of inviting her mother to share in her disappointed hopes. Mrs Bennet loved all her daughters, but she lacked the sensitivity of spirit that would have enabled her to truly support them in dark times of the spirit.
“Oh, such news! Mr Bingley has returned to Netherfield, and all Meryton is in a positive uproar because of it.” Her mother sank onto the bed. “It is a pity we are too poor to go out into society anymore. I am convinced that our Jane could catch his eye. She is the beauty of the county, after all.”
Jane’s cheeks coloured at this. “Mama, you must not speak so, for you will make me terribly vain.”
