Saturday 25 April 1812, London
Bingley stared at the implacable butler and puffed out his cheeks helplessly. He really ought to have known Darcy would not be athome. It was Saturday, and Darcy invariably visited Angelo’s of a Saturday morning. “I might as well wait here for him. I daresay he’ll not object as long as I behave myself.”
“Miss Darcy and her companion are here, sir, also awaiting Mr Darcy,” Godfrey replied.
“Even better!” he cried, whipping off his hat and bowling past him into the house.
“Did you enjoy the theatre on Wednesday?” he enquired of Darcy’s sister once he was settled in the morning room.
“We did not go in the end. My brother was unwell.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Bingley replied, though it did explain why Darcy had seemed so out of sorts. “Is he recovered? He must be if he has gone fencing.”
“I have not seen him since, so I cannot say.”
“If he is sickening for something, I might have some luck convincing him to come with me for a few weeks for some country air.”
“You are leaving Town?”
“I am!” Bingley resisted the urge to bounce up and down in his seat. “I am returning to Hertfordshire.”
“Hertfordshire?”
Mrs Annesley cleared her throat. Miss Darcy glanced at her, as did Bingley, but he could see nothing extraordinary in the way she looked at her charge, to whom he replied, “Yes, I return within the week for an indefinite stay.”
“But you will miss the remainder of the Season!”
“You share Caroline’s outrage, I see. Be assured, Hertfordshire has far pleasanter diversions than Town, as your brother recently reminded me.”
“He did? Might I enquire—did he enjoy his time there, do you think?”
Mrs Annesley cleared her throat again, more loudly.
“Do you know, I am not sure,” Bingley said. “I had not thought him much enamoured of the place while we were there, but he has since assured me otherwise.”
“What made you think he was displeased?”
Miss Darcy’s companion cleared her throatagain,and Bingley looked askance at her. “He was forever squabbling with Miss Elizabeth, for one,” he replied, more candidly than he might have had henot been distracted. Would that Mrs Annesley just cough and have done with it!
“He argued with a lady?” Miss Darcy cried, sounding horrified.
“What? Oh—yes. Frequently and fiercely.”
“That is quite shocking! She must have been frightfully disagreeable, for I cannot believe he would have been uncivil without good reason.”
“On the contrary, she was a perfectly charming houseguest.”
“Oh! Was it she who fell ill at your house?”
Mrs Annesley coughed loudly, satisfying Bingley that whatever had been irritating her—and him—must now be dislodged.
“No, that was her sister, Miss Jane Bennet. Miss Elizabeth stayed to nurse her well again.”
“Then my brother has mentioned her in his letters. She was in Kent when he visited our aunt lately.”
“Yes, so I understand.”
“He did not mention that they argued.”
