“Where did you hear that?” blurted Darcy.
In a few clipped sentences, Bingley explained how he had learned of the affair and what had happened at his townhouse the day before. Darcy had not supposed that Miss Bingley would be so careless as to allow herself to be overheard, though Hurst’s part of the business was no less than hilarious. He might have thought Miss Bingley would take greater care than this.
“Needless to say, I was incensed,” said Bingley, wrapping up his explanation. “It is not Caroline’s place to sever an acquaintance unless it is one ofherfriends. Her unkindness to a woman I esteem above all others is beyond anything I expected of her.”
It was not unexpected to Darcy, but he did not think it prudent to make such a comment.
“Once I had the entire affair from my sister’s unwilling lips, augmented by Louisa’s account and Hurst’s clandestine intelligence, I informed them exactly what I thought of them. Then, after making certain they understood that I did not wish for their company, I sent them with Hurst to the north while I remained here, intending to speak to you. If they adhered to our original schedule, they departed some hours ago.”
“That is extraordinary, my friend,” said Darcy.
“It is,” agreed Bingley. “And beyond shocking. Now, will you not explain Miss Elizabeth’s part in your new understanding?”
Again, there appeared to be little choice but to do as his friend asked. Nothing in the world would convince Darcy to relate what happened in the parlor of Hunsford parsonage, but as Bingley already had some notion of Darcy’s interest in Miss Elizabeth, there was no reason to hold back. Thus, Darcy told him of Miss Elizabeth’s defense of her sister’s character and her assertions concerning Miss Bennet’s affection for Bingley. When he had finished his account, Bingley was more than a little introspective.
“You know,” said he, “I suppose your presumption in this matter should annoy me. My sisters are such conniving shrews that I might have expected it from them. From you, however, it is a shock.”
Darcy understood that to say anything to defend himself would appear as if he were attempting to place the blame on Bingley’s sisters, so he remained silent. He had little need to speak in such a way, for Bingley did it for him.
“In the end,” said Bingley, “I believe the greater share of the blame belongs to my sisters, for Caroline acted despicably. Your role was to inform me of your opinion, which was truthful though erroneous, and to refrain from bringing Miss Bennet’s presence to my attention. It was not, I suppose, your responsibility at the end of it all.”
“Perhaps it was not,” said Darcy, relieved by his friend’s offered clemency. “Yet I cannot be happy with my conduct in this matter. It appears I am unqualified to offer advice pertaining to matters of the heart; in the future, I shall endeavor to keep such counsel to myself.”
Bingley barked a laugh, appearing more like the friend Darcy had always known. “I suppose you must be correct.”
Amity restored between them, they sat in companionable silence for several moments, Darcy wondering what this all meant, but unwilling to ask. Bingley, he knew, would inform him of his decision the moment he made it, so Darcy was content to wait for his friend to make that communication. As he had known, it did not take long.
“Well, my friend,” said Bingley, “it appears we are both caught in a conundrum.”
“The Bennet sisters?” asked Darcy.
“The same,” replied Bingley with a grin. “I left Hertfordshire in November, apparently heedless of Miss Bennet’s feelings, in contradiction of my own, and existed in blithe ignorance whilemy sister treated the woman I love with contempt. You, on the other hand, admire her younger sister, and for whatever reason—your scruples, I must assume—you have not acted to secure her.”
It was much more than that, but Darcy remained determined to say nothing further. “What do you suggest?”
“Might I assume you intended to accompany me to Netherfield in the autumn? You never stated as much, but you inferred it unless I am mistaken.”
Darcy eyed his friend. “I had not yet decided, but the notionhadoccurred to me.”
Bingley nodded as if Darcy had confirmed his suspicions. “Then why wait until Michaelmas? At present, my family has gone to the north, so I need not fear my sister’s interference. Unless there is some pressing need to return to Pemberley, why do you not join me?”
“If I had a pressing need to return to Pemberley, I would be gone already,” was Darcy’s wry reply.
The laughter with which Bingley responded marked the completion of Bingley’s return to his usual good humor. “That is not a surprise, my friend. Then what say you?”
Darcy wanted to agree at once. Yet he remained unconvinced it was at all wise to return to Hertfordshire now. With Bingley’s plans to travel north, Darcy had thought to use that time to firm his resolve to approach Miss Elizabeth again. At the very least, it would allow a little time to pass since he was last in her company, and perhaps allow fraught emotions to settle. Was it too early to put himself in her company again?
Unable though he was to resist Miss Bennet’s siren call, Darcy could do nothing but confess it was still far too early to consider pursuing her again. Could he truly refuse to offer Bingley his support? It was a muddle, and one Darcy did not think he could resolve with his friend watching him, waiting for a response.
Just when Darcy opened his mouth, even at that late date uncertain how to respond, the sound of a commotion in the halls outside his study reached his ears. Uncertain of what was happening to disrupt his house, he rose to investigate when the door swung open, and a tall woman entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Chapter VI
Uncertain her eyes were not playing tricks on her, Elizabeth stared at the shadowed form of the woman in the coach. It appeared to be Anne de Bourgh without a doubt, a conviction that firmed when Elizabeth moved a little closer. The woman sat in the carriage appearing ill at ease, looking this way and that, though she still had not caught sight of Elizabeth watching her. Dressed in the sort of clothing she had worn at Rosings Park, heavy fabrics draped over her thin frame, the gown, while appearing impressive, must be sweltering in the late June warmth.
Now Elizabeth had a dilemma, and the implications of seeing her here were not at all pleasant. Elizabeth had never had much to do with Miss de Bourgh, had exchanged only the barest of civilities demanded by politeness; Miss de Bourgh had never seemed to wish for more than this, though whether that was because of the sense of superiority that ruled her mother, or some other reason Elizabeth could not say. The Anne de Bourgh she had met in Kent would surely not welcome any intrusion from Miss Elizabeth Bennet of an insignificant estate in Hertfordshire.
Yet could she walk away without attempting to discover what was happening?IfLydia’s insistence that she had seen Mr. Wickham had been at all correct, could his appearance and that of Miss de Bourgh be a coincidence? What other reason could there be for Miss de Bourgh’s presence, especially in a hired carriage of all things, with her mother nowhere nearby? If Miss de Bourgh was here with Mr. Wickham, that suggested nefarious deeds—potentially life-altering on her part. Could she walk away without even attempting to discover the true situationand acting to rescue her from the libertine’s clutches?
