“I am in no doubt of my feelings, Lizzy, but I cannot countenance making you unhappy. I shall not go just yet. I shall stay a little longer.”
Satisfied, Georgiana opened the door and requested more provisions of the footman waiting without. She took her time walking back, vastly undesirous of obtruding onto aught delicate.
“I feel in part to blame,” Elizabeth was saying. “Had I not argued with her?—”
“We were discontented long before that.”
“Aye, and had I not championed your suit with her so single-mindedly, regardless of the changes in her character or your regard, she might never have acted as she did, and you would never have suffered as you have.”
Through the plants lining the path, Georgiana could see that Elizabeth was measuring out more tea from the caddy and seemed oblivious to Mr Bingley’s drawing closer to her, seemingly captivated by her every word.
“Had I not taken so long in coming to know my own heart,” he replied, “neither of us would have suffered as we have.”
“Ah, good. You are still here.”
Georgiana jumped for a second time. “Brother!” she exclaimed, turning to see Darcy come through the door.
“Forgive me, I meant not to startle you.” He looked wholly unrepentant as he bowed to kiss Elizabeth’s fingers. “How have you all been amusing yourselves?”
“Merely talking, Darcy,” Mr Bingley said. He had abandoned his chair and was examining whatever plant it was that clung to the back wall.
“Lizzy has been persuading me to accept Henrietta’s invitation,” Georgiana said. She chose to feign ignorance of Darcy’s baffled glance at Elizabeth, as well as her mouthingMiss Castletonto him in return, thinking it a rather sweet exchange. “Her father has engaged a very fine dancing master in preparation for her coming out and allowed her to invite all her friends to partake in his instruction.”
“That is exceedingly generous of him.”
“It is a shame Lizzy will not be able to join me, though.”
“I shall be sorry to miss it, Georgiana, but there is little hope of my dancing elegantly enough at present to do justice to such a master.”
“What has your present inelegance to do with the matter?” Darcy enquired. “You were not heavy with child when you knocked Tobias onto the floor.”
“He is right, Georgiana. Hornscroft Hall is too full of ornament and finery to be safe from me. It is for the best that I do not go.”
Georgiana listened with but half an ear, her attention instead fixed upon Mr Bingley, who observed this exchange with a rapidlydeepening frown. She could not blame him for his disquiet, for from his vantage, he could not have seen Elizabeth’s broad grin, only Darcy’s severe expression.
Such was always the way with her brother, she had learnt. Whatever joke he made was made with impenetrable solemnity, so that it was impossible to tell whether he spoke in jest unless one knew him to be stating an opinion not his own. It was an aspect of his character with which she had been wholly unfamiliar until Elizabeth came to Pemberley. Though her new sister certainly did not treat him disrespectfully, she yet wielded a mysterious and unashamed sort of power over him, daring to tease him, and in return, provoking him to some decidedly surreptitious teasing of his own.
When presently the footman arrived, and they all convened at the table for refreshments, Mr Bingley appeared to be struggling to conceal his confusion. Though it was a little ungenerous, Georgiana triumphed to see him suffering under the same misconceptions she once had, happy in the knowledge that she, at least, was no longer a bystander to her brother and sister’s repartee.
Sunday 21 February 1813, Derbyshire
Bingley threw aside his covers and scrabbled at the bed curtains in an attempt to find the join. They opened a yard to the left, courtesy of his man.
“Are you well, Mr Bingley?”
“No, I am notwell!”
Indeed, he was exhausted, having been unable to sleep a wink for recurrent nightmares of succumbing to the temptation to kiss Elizabeth—and then being murdered on the spot by Darcy. It was outside of enough! Could he expect his feelings ever to subside while he remained in such close proximity to her? Could he expect Darcy would not truly run him through if he ever came so close to exposing his desires as he had yesterday in the orangery? No, regardless of Elizabeth’s plea, he must leave this place and soon!
Snatching his dressing gown from Banbury’s grasp, he seated himself at the desk in the corner of the room and pulled out a sheet of paper.
“Perhaps some breakfast would restore your humour, sir?”
Bingley answered distractedly that breakfast would be mostwelcome, and Banbury must have left to fetch it because, when he stopped to dip his pen, the man was no longer there. By the time he returned with a tray, Bingley was done. He handed him the three letters he had dashed off and sat down by the fire to eat.
“I cannot find my blasted address book anywhere, Banbury,” he said, slicing into a hunk of gammon. “Be a good fellow and see to it they are addressed properly, would you?”
“Certainly, sir,” Banbury answered. A moment later he added, “Mr Forsyth, sir?”
