Darcy decided to act with purpose. “Pray, Miss Elizabeth, forgive the forwardness of my inquiry. Miss Bennet appeared rather…discomposed this morning. Is she well?”
He thought he heard an attempt to stifle a snort before she replied. “I expect Jane’s spirits will improve apace now.” Her cryptic answer vexed him, though it confirmed that her sister’s distress had indeed stemmed from Bingley’s absence.
Darcy cleared his throat, uncomfortable. He longed to know Elizabeth’s thoughts regarding the entire affair, but he remained unaware of what, precisely, Miss Bingley had said in her letter.
“I am pleased to be returned to Netherfield.”
He winced inwardly at the note of desperation in his tone.
She shifted to face him. “Truly, sir? I had thought London would hold more sway over you.” One impertinent brow rose, and her bright and discerning violet eyes gleamed—not with amusement, but something far sharper. He saw the irritation there; was it anger?
“I prefer the country.” The words came slowly, but they were true. They rounded a corner and stepped onto another path of Longbourn’s garden, though Bingley and Miss Bennet had vanished from sight.
“I wonder, then, why you were in such haste to depart after the Netherfield Ball. We, none of us, expected to see you again. Miss Bingley was quite clear that the house had been shut up and that its former residents had no intention to return. You can imagine what we thought.”
Darcy’s nerves threatened to betray him entirely. He cleared his throat once more, determined to speak honestly, but with care enough not to provoke her further. “Bingley always intended to return. As for Miss Bingley and the Hursts, I cannot say what they meant to do.”
“Then he has no understanding with your sister?”
Her question struck him like a blow, and he halted his steps. “What do you mean?Whomdo you mean?” Some irrational part of him feared she might speak of Wickham, but reason swiftly prevailed—she must refer to Bingley. He recovered himself.
“Georgiana is but sixteen. She has no arrangement with any man. Indeed, I will not countenance such a thing until she is at least eighteen and presented to the Queen.” He took a calm, steadying breath. “Am I to understand from your words that Miss Bingley implied such an attachment existed?”
Elizabeth gave a single, solemn nod. “I am sorry to speak so candidly, sir, but I must protect my sister. She seldom reveals her true feelings. ’Tis a kind of defense, learned early—but when she does form an attachment, it is deep and unwavering. MissBingley’s farewell note…well, suffice it to say that my sister has not been herself since it arrived.”
A heavy weight settled on Darcy’s conscience. Though Elizabeth had not confessed her sister’s sentiments, the implications were clear. Miss Bennet loved his friend, and he had nearly torn them apart. No, he had made every effort to do so. The shame of it burned.
“I assure you, Bingley’s intentions are entirely honorable,” he said awkwardly. “If his presence distresses your sister in any way—”
“No! It is quite the opposite. Or at least, I believe it will be once they have resolved the misunderstandings between them. I never truly thought he had gone without saying goodbye. They seem so well suited to one another.” She fell silent, her words fading into silence. After a moment passed, she continued.
“Forgive me, sir. I am sorry for rambling. It is only…I am very relieved for Jane.”
Darcy found no ready reply. He believed Elizabeth’s relief on her sister’s behalf had loosened her tongue; she spoke more freely than she was wont to do—at least withhim—and he feared anything he said might cause her to retreat into formality if he blurted the wrong thing.
Before he could decide what to say, she asked, “Do you intend to remain in Hertfordshire long?”
“I am at Bingley’s disposal. He is my closest friend, and I shall enjoy spending the holiday season in his company.”
She was not facing him, so he could not read her countenance. Yet something in her posture suggested she found his answer lacking. There was a stillness in her bearing; it was a withdrawal so faint it might have passed unnoticed by any other but him. It signaled disappointment.
“I should wish,” he added, striving to bridge the silence, “that we shall often be in company. Everyone seems so pleased tohave Bingley back…” He let the sentence fall away.Yes,they welcomed Bingley warmly—but not me.
It was no one’s fault but his own. He could not blame others for the coolness he had received; it had been earned by his own prior incivility. His recent reflections, particularly the painful realization that Elizabeth did not hold him in esteem, had led to some uncomfortable truths. His behavior, upon consideration, had not been above reproach.
Bingley and Miss Bennet reappeared just then—she looking quite pleased, and he sporting a broad and genuine smile. “Shall we return to the house?” Miss Bennet asked. “Tea will soon be ready, and I am rather chilled.”
His conversation with Elizabeth at an end for the time being, they followed the others back to the house. Mrs. Bennet quickly claimed Bingley’s attention, paying no mind to Darcy in favor of her more engaging guest. He did not object. He took a seat near the window and sat in watchful observation of the gathering.
Elizabeth helped her mother serve the tea and biscuits. Darcy watched her with a mixture of admiration and curiosity, pleasantly surprised when she approached and handed him a cup of tea, prepared exactly as he preferred.
“Thank you.” He smiled up at her, and she blinked, a look of surprise crossing her features, and Darcy wondered what had startled her. Resolved to think on it later, he took a sip of tea, releasing a low hum of appreciation as the pleasing blend favored his tongue. She moved away, and his gaze drifted to Miss Bennet and Bingley.
How could I have been so blind?With unclouded eyes free of prejudice, the truth stood plain before him. Miss Bennet loved Bingley. When he shifted, she responded without thought, and when she moved, he mirrored her. Her eyes shone brightly, and she flushed when Bingley delighted her. Mrs. Bennet, to Darcy’s surprise, seemed content to leave them to their own devices,her smile triumphant and rather smug, as though she had orchestrated it all. He found it diverting.
Elizabeth did not approach him a second time, but Darcy could feel her watching him. He could not help wondering what occupied her thoughts. Within another half hour, it was time to take their leave. Once they were safely ensconced in the carriage, Bingley revealed all.
“Caroline told her I was attached to Georgiana, Darcy. Imagine it! There is nothing wrong with your sister, of course, but she is full young, and I do not see her in that way. My sister deliberately sought to wound Miss Bennet. How very despicable.”
