Darcy considered his friend, wondering how he might bring Bingley to his way of thinking. The knowledge that Bingley was to go north changed his plans, for he now judged it best that Bingley keep to his plans; that would allow Darcy to take stock of the situation, consider how to best reunite his friend with Miss Bennet, and perhaps even discover if she still held a tender regard for him. There was one way that he could think of that would put the matter into Bingley’s head, yet not send him running to Hertfordshire as soon as he readied his carriage.
“What do you mean to do after that?” asked Darcy.
His friend gave a most Bingley-like shrug. “I have not considered that far in advance. Return to town, I suppose, for Caroline is never so happy as when she is here.”
It was Darcy’s sincere hope that reuniting with Miss Bennet and earning her love would be enough to goad Bingley to come into his own. At present, he ceded too much of his authority to his sister’s whims. Surely having a wife in his life would be enough to stiffen his spine.
“If you are open to a suggestion,” said Darcy, “you have not visited Netherfield since we left in November. As you still have the lease on the estate, perhaps it would be wise to visit again before it expires. At the very least, you might have a month of sport before you must quit it if you do not intend to renew.”
“Are you actually suggesting I return to Netherfield?” asked Bingley, a note of bewilderment in his voice.
“It is entirely your decision, Bingley,” replied Darcy. “I understand your desire to visit your family; your respect for them is commendable. Most gentlemen, however, spend the summer and most of the autumn at their country estates. If nothing else, you should likely look in on it, if for no other reason than to assure yourself that all is in order when you return it to the owner’s oversight.”
“I suppose you must be correct, Darcy,” said an absent-minded Bingley. “Given your comments on the unsuitability of... the place, I might not have expected you to suggest I return.”
“Bingley,” said Darcy, taking care of what he wished to say next, “you left Netherfield Park for certain reasons espoused by your sisters, and I agreed with some of their reasons.”
“You said Miss Bennet was unsuitable,” accused Bingley, the first time Darcy had heard the woman’s name cross Bingley’s lips in many months.
“If you recall,” said Darcy, “I opined her feelings were not equal to yours. Your sisters spoke of her unsuitability.”
Bingley considered this for a moment then responded with a slow nod. “Yes, I suppose you must be correct, though at the time it seemed you agreed with their assessment.”
It was best to avoid confirming his friend’s suspicion at that moment. That Darcyhadagreed with them did not signify, for he remembered clearly that he had confined his words to his supposed understanding of the state of Miss Bennet’s feelings. No one, including Bingley, would ever know that Darcy’s desire to avoid the lady’s sister had been as powerful a motivation to assure Bingley of Miss Bennet’s indifference as his conviction acquired on the strength of one night’s observation.
“Do you now repent of the opinion you espoused then?”
“Does my opinion matter?”
Bingley frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Only that you spent more time in Miss Bennet’s company than I, Bingley. I gave you my honest opinion, but I cannot read her mind, any more than you can. You are more qualified to determine the contents of her heart than I am.”
“I suppose you must be correct,” said Bingley as if he had never considered it in that light. Darcy suspected he had not, given Bingley’s modesty and tendency to rely on others’ judgment.
“It is not my intention to support a renewal of your pursuit of Miss Bennet,” said Darcy. “That is something you must determine on your own. While there is some measure of truth in what your sisters said—Miss Bennet’s situation, fortune, and connections are what they are—what matters is your opinion. At the end of it all, she is the daughter of a gentleman, and thus must be acceptable ifyoudecide in her favor.”
“That is true,” said Bingley. The way his countenance lightened, Darcy suspected he was seeing the possibility of re-engaging his pursuit of Miss Bennet.
“For the nonce, however,” said Darcy, “it appears you are bound for York, and I wish you a safe and pleasant journey. I suggest you make no mention of our conversation to your sister until you have decided what you wish to do.”
“That is an excellent suggestion, my friend,” said Bingley, nodding decisively. “Thank you for bringing this possibility to my mind, Darcy, for I had not considered it before.”
Soon thereafter, they separated. While he had not yet confessed his error to his friend, he had made an excellent start in reuniting Bingley with Miss Bennet. Now he needed to consider a way that he might return to Miss Elizabeth’s company, for he was certain he did not wish to wait until September to see her again.
Chapter IV
There is nothing so disagreeable as being forced to listen to the loud lamentations of a spoiled child denied what she felt was her rightful due. The Bennet family soon acknowledged this truth within moments of Lydia’s accident and forced confinement, though, in some ways, the servants received the brunt of Lydia’s ill humor.
With the departure of Mrs. Forster and her father still engaged in the business of directing the servants in seeing to Lydia’s effects, Elizabeth entered the house to find it in what she considered its typical chaos. John, their manservant, had already conveyed an insensible Lydia up the stairs to her bedchamber, Mrs. Bennet following in his wake. The wailing of her mother, audible through the hall and down the stairs from the second floor informed Elizabeth that she was not capable of acting in the decisive manner required by the situation. Jane was nowhere in evidence, likely having followed them above stairs, but Kitty and Mary remained in the vestibule, at a loss for what to do.
“Kitty,” said Elizabeth, taking control of the situation at once, “go to the stables and have one of the stable hands ride to Meryton at once to seek Mr. Jones’s help.”
Though startled at the sudden command, Kitty did not hesitate, scurrying out the door at once. Elizabeth turned to Mary and arched an eyebrow. “Do you know if anyone has given instructions to the kitchen for Lydia’s succor? She appeared to have a nasty gash on her forehead—at the very least, Mr. Jones will require clean linens and hot water.”
Mary nodded, her manner becoming businesslike, much as Kitty before her. “And we will wish to wash the cut as soon as may be. I shall speak to cook directly.”
As Mary hurried from the room, Elizabeth took herself to the stairs, climbing swiftly, and reached Lydia’s room a moment later. The situation was as she had expected, with Mrs. Bennet standing over her youngest daughter’s bed and wailing her horror at what had just happened. Jane pleaded with her mother ineffectually while holding a bloodied cloth to Lydia’s forehead, but Mrs. Bennet was having no part of it. John, the footman, stood nearby, uncertain of what he should do. Elizabeth attended to him first.
