“It was? I thought I had missed my turn again.”
“I comprehend now why you disdained the idea of foils. Wool-gathering such as this would have seen you skewered within moments.”
“’Twas you who turned your nose up at billiards.”
“Thank God, else it might have been my cloth you skewered. Besides, I thought some air and exercise would do you good.”
“It is February, Darcy. I have no wish to be outside—be it on a horse, on my feet, or on my arse by the lake catching frozen fish. I was quite content merely sitting here ’til you came along, resolved on entertaining me. I shall never comprehend your need to be constantly occupied.”
Darcy maintained a blank expression, keeping his exasperation well hidden. He would have been equally content to leave Bingley to his musings, had Elizabeth’s vexation at her mother’s latest letter not persuaded him this discussion could be postponed no longer. Yet, having long ago lost all taste for interference, he was presently guilty of some vastly uncharacteristic procrastination whilst hesummoned the will to delve into the quagmire of Bingley’saffaires du cœur.
“Pray, forgive my ill humour,” Bingley said with a sigh. “You are very good to have me here. I would not be ungrateful, only I have much on my mind.”
Darcy inclined his head.
“I have received a letter,” Bingley sullenly informed him. “From Caroline.”
“She has discovered you are here then?”
“Aye, and she is displeased, to say the least. Jane is apparently gone to Farley House to escape the gossip in Meryton.”
“Indeed? Elizabeth received word from her mother that Jane was gone to Town, but she made no mention of her staying with the Hursts.” He could imagine with what delight they had received her and wondered whether Hurst might soon arrive at Pemberley seeking refuge as Bingley had done.
“Dare I enquire what else Mrs Bennet wrote?” Bingley enquired.
Elizabeth had not shown Darcy the letter but had summarised her mother’s position with telling consternation. Jane had gone to London, allegedly fanning speculation that Bingley meant to auction her off to the highest bidder, Mr Bennet was imminently about to die of shame, thus the Collinses were banging down Longbourn’s door, and Mrs Bennet and her other three daughters were busy packing their worldly belongings in preparation for living out the remainder of their days at Pemberley. “To paraphrase, she is eager to see you soon returned.”
“Then, I am afraid she will be disappointed.”
“You do not intend to return directly?”
“I do not intend to return at all.”
Darcy tensed with the endeavour not to sit forward in his seat. “Ever?”
“Do not judge me, Darcy. It is no longer any secret that I did not wish to marry her in the first place.”
Indeed. Darcy had been significantly less astonished by the revelation of Jane’s scheming than Elizabeth. In his opinion, no despicable deed was beneath a woman content to strike her own sister, full in the knowledge she was with child. He only pitied Elizabeth her disappointment and Bingley his unenviable predicament.
Never mind that it was before noon, it was most definitely thehour for brandy. “Why did you not cease visiting Longbourn, if you were decided against her?” he enquired as he poured them both a glass.
“Because of Lizzy.”
He turned around. “Elizabeth?”
Bingley looked up sharply then launched himself from his chair and stalked to the window before Darcy could make out his expression. “Yes, well…while you were off being a lovelorn arse-about-town, I was supporting her family in the wake of your friend Wickham’s attack, or had you forgotten?”
“I had not forgotten,” Darcy replied, chastened though no less perturbed.
“I could not conscionably have abandoned Jane a second time whilst her sister lay insensible abed.”
“Of course not.” It was a reasonable explanation. Darcy fought prodigiously hard to ignore the unjust flicker of wariness occasioned by the recollection of Bingley pulling Elizabeth into his arms in the churchyard.
“I see now that my lingering must have prolonged Jane’s anticipation,” Bingley mumbled. “I suppose it is what prompted her to act as she did.”
“Impatience is no excuse for duplicity. She was very wrong to deceive you.” Darcy handed him his drink and sat back at the card table. “But have you truly hadnopleasure from the marriage? Is there no possibility that you might learn to esteem one another again? You did love her once, after all.”
“Aye, but she is not the same person she was then.”
