The gentlemen left the parlour, ordered the carriage, and packed for a short journey. Darcy had reached the stairs when a shrill nasal voice halted his step.
“Mr Darcy!”
For a second he imagined Mrs Bennet had returned, but the voice sounded younger and even less pleasant.
“I am so sorry about your ball!”
Darcy turned slowly towards Miss Bingley. What did she mean by reminding him about a disaster that had occurred two weeks ago, especially given that he had seen her since? The woman was as brazen as a peacock.
“I have come to visit Miss Darcy. Is she at home?”
Darcy heard Georgiana and Mary discussing Mozart versus Bach. If he could hear them, it was clear that so could Miss Bingley. To deny that his sister was at home would make him look ridiculous, and that was an adjective he strived to avoid, most of the time.
“She is in the parlour, Miss Bingley. Follow me.”
Darcy escorted the lady to his sister and turned immediately to leave.
“Mr Darcy!”
He quashed a groan and turned even more slowly than before.
“Yes,” he growled.
“I would like to offer Mrs Darcy my consolation. She must be distraught by her rejection from society. It is horrendous in every way.”
“Mrs Darcy is not at home.” Darcy did not offer any further explanation; he was eager to be off and damn propriety to hell.Civility is overrated.
“Oh, that is a shame. Perhaps I should wait until she returns,” Miss Bingley suggested.
“That might be a long wait,” Mary remarked in her usual forthright manner. “Lizzy has fled, and we have no idea where she is.”
You could always count on Mary to speak nothing but the truth. Even when silence was infinitely preferable.
Miss Bingley gasped, rolled her eyes, and affected a swoon.
“Mrs Murray, fetch the smelling salts,” he ordered. “I leave Georgiana’s guest in your capable hands.”
He would not succumb to Miss Bingley’s machinations today of all days. She had browbeaten him into dancing two dances with her at Lady Castlereagh’s ball, squeezing out crocodile tears due to her lack of partners. He had agreed due to his guilty conscience. It was not implausible that his marriage had damaged Miss Bingley by association. That night he had been plagued by a terrorising dream where he had bedded his wife, who had transformed into Miss Bingley. He had awoken in a pool of sweat, thanking the Lord for being alone in his bed and disgusted with himself for even dreaming of such horror.
Chapter 23 Red Herring
The drive to Longbourn felt long and arduous. Elizabeth’s abandonment was churning a hole in his stomach, or was it something else that was gnawing at him? Like he had forgotten or overlooked something important. Elizabeth was alive. The ache in his chest should have lessened, not increased, with that knowledge, but the dull pain had only sharpened.
“So, how did you come to marry a lowly squire’s daughter?”
Darcy scowled at his cousin, who had appeared to be asleep just as they left the city behind.
“Elizabeth is a gentleman’s daughter. She is from an ancient though untitled line that came to England with William the Conqueror.”
Richard huffed. “Then why would you divorce her? It is clear to me that you love her.”
Darcy spent the rest of their journey relating all that had transpired since he first met Elizabeth at the Meryton assembly. Richard listened with rapt attention and made few remarks. By the end of the tale, they had arrived at Longbourn.
“It is a handsome house and larger than I imagined,” Colonel Fitzwilliam opined before they entered.
Both Mr and Mrs Bennet were surprised to see them. Darcy was inclined to believe them sincere. Instinct told him not to enquire about Elizabeth but rather pretend he had travelled so far because he had business at Netherfield and had stopped to introduce them to the cousin they had yet to meet. Mrs Bennet called for refreshments, and the table was filled with all sorts of delicious edibles. The colonel eyed him suspiciously throughout the repast but kept his counsel until they were back in the carriage.
“What was that all about?” Richard questioned as soon as the wheels were turning. “Why did you not ask whether Mrs Darcy was here?”
