She looked yet more taken aback. “I hope he is well?”
Miss Bingley hastened to explain the ‘misunderstanding’, rolling out a litany of excuses about how much time her brother was spending at his club and with all his countless friends. Darcy paid her no heed and instead watched Miss Bennet closely. Her concern seemed genuine, as did her confusion—and, dare he say it, relief—regarding Bingley’s recent activities. Evidently, she had not wished him to be spending time with Georgiana.
To Darcy’s mind, this raised two concerns. First, that Miss Bingley had been wrong to assume it was Miss Bennet with whom her brother had been consorting. Second, thathehad been wrong to assume Miss Bennet felt nothing for Bingley. Which, in turn, gave weight to Mrs Hurst’s original suspicion that she had come to town with the hope of rekindling the acquaintance. Darcy repressed a sigh. Bingley’s indiscretion was made substantially worse considering what Miss Bennet’s hopes appeared to be—and their becoming reacquainted would make it infinitely more likely that it would be discovered. It must be prevented.
The visit dragged on for ten more awkward minutes. At length Mrs Hurst, who was seated nearest the window, asked, “Is that your carriage I see waiting outside, Miss Bennet?”
“Quite possibly,” she answered. “The coachman had only to drop my aunt two streets away before returning to wait for me.”
“Well, that is most fortunate, for Caroline and I were just on our way out when you called.”
Miss Bingley came to her feet. “You do not mind, do you? We would not have chased you away otherwise, but as you have the means to get home…”
Miss Bennet took the hint, stood, and gathered up her reticule and gloves. “I shall not delay you.”
With both Bingley women momentarily occupied whispering to each other near the window, Darcy saw his chance of a quiet word with Miss Bennet. Rising from his chair, he walked to stand at her shoulder with his back to the others. “I daresay you hoped to see Bingley today, Miss Bennet.”
He was close enough that she could not fully turn around, but she cast him a look of confusion and affront over her shoulder. “No, indeed, sir, I?—”
“Let me recommend you not to misinterpret his happy manners. I fear he may have inadvertently raised your expectations while he was in Hertfordshire, but any hope for a renewal of his attentions is in vain. An alliance is out of the question.”
She blushed deeply. “Mr Darcy, I do not know what you think?—”
He cut her off by stepping backwards and bowing. “Good day Miss Bennet.”
Miss Bingley came forwards to shepherd Miss Bennet out of the room and into the care of a footman who would see her out. She closed the door behind them and slumped theatrically against it. “Well! That was quite the dullest morning call in living memory.”
Mrs Hurst tittered stupidly as though this were the height of wit. “The only thing that could have made it worse was if she had brought her sister!”
“Small mercy that we were spared that torment! But I shall have to return the call.”
“Perhaps—but not soon. You would not like to encourage her.”
“It is Bingley who ought not to have encouraged her,” Darcy snapped. He could not be easy with the frankness of his words to Miss Bennet, nor the pain they had evidently given, and he wasfurious that Bingley’s actions had made it necessary. “Will you excuse me? I must be going myself.”
Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst shared another of their silent glances, then Mrs Hurst said, “What about Charles?”
“What about him? You were worried he was courting Miss Bennet. Now you know he is not, or she would never have come here in this way.”
“But if he has not been with her, then his evasiveness is yet more concerning.”
“Will you not speak to him for us?” Miss Bingley said plaintively.
“You said you did not know where he was presently staying.”
“We hoped you might have a better idea of where he might be found.”
Darcy gritted his teeth; he suspected they would not relent, and he had no wish to remain any longer. “I shall see what I can do. But I make no promises.” He waved away their gratitude and stalked from the house.
4
PINNED DOWN AT LAST
Elizabeth slowed her steps. Hannah—Mrs Gardiner’s maid but her own chaperon for the afternoon—had begun panting beside her. With chagrin, she recognised the haste that apprehension had added to her stride. In truth, there was no urgency; she had no pre-arranged time to arrive at Henrietta Street. Providence would determine whether she would find her mother at home.
It had been four days since her last visit. Between calls to her aunt’s friends and Sunday services, there had been no opportunity to return since, but today, both Mrs Gardiner and Jane were engaged elsewhere. Elizabeth had instantly resolved on visiting her mother, knowing she would be able to speak more plainly alone.
They arrived at the glossy black front door and knocked. This time, a maid opened it, and Elizabeth was relieved to hear it confirmed that her mother was at home. They stepped into the hall, Elizabeth rubbing some warmth back into her hands and Hannah stamping the feeling back into her feet while the maid ran upstairs to inform Mrs Bennet she had a visitor. Muffled voices floated down from above, then sounds of shuffling,footsteps, and more than one door banging. At length, the maid returned.
